Smuggled

Johannes Holm woke up with a pounding head and a dry mouth. His stomach rolled and the shaking of the ground wasn’t helping matters.

… wait.

Shaking ground?

He opened his eyes, hissing as the light caused his pounding head to ache more fiercely. Looking around, Johannes was surprised to find himself in what appeared to be a train compartment, empty save for himself.

He got up onto his shaky feet, stumbling over to the window. He couldn’t make out much, due to how fast the train was going. Buildings, trees and pastures all became blurs, barely discernible to anyone, let alone someone with a pounding headache exacerbating things.

Johannes shook his head, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes to try and sooth the ache. Okay, this was... this wasn’t ideal. He patted himself down, rooting through pockets to see if there was a ticket to be found on his person. Maybe he’d had too much to drink the night before and he’d unknowingly purchased a train ticket? That made sense, right? But there was nothing. Nothing but a bit of pocket lint and a few loose coins.

Oh.

Oh, this was bad.

This was very bad.

Johannes took a deep breath, trying to recall what had happened the night before. If he could remember that, then he could figure out what was going on, right?

He could remember have a couple of drinks at the pub, could remember paying his tab and walking home to his small flat. It was dark, being as late as it was. He could... he could remember walking past a dark alley and... someone had grabbed him. Yes. Yes, someone had grabbed him and covered his mouth with a cloth. He could remember a sickly sweet smell, tainted with a smell reminiscent of hospital cleaners. The sweet taste still coated his tongue, faint as it was. It didn’t help his nausea.

While he’d never had the drug before, he’d heard enough about it to know that it was chloroform. Someone had drugged him with chloroform last night. As for why, he wasn’t entirely sure. He wasn’t a wealthy man, didn’t have much in the way of family. What family he did have wasn’t too well off either. So ransom didn’t seem likely. That is, unless they’d mistaken him for someone else, someone actually wealthy enough to pay an exorbitant ransom.

Giving himself a shake, Johannes looked at the window again, studying his reflection in the glass. He looked terrible. His wild curly hair looked even more untamed than normal. His eyes were bloodshot and the bags beneath his eyes were dark. Around his mouth, he could see red irritation. That would explain why the skin around his mouth felt tight and itchy.

Okay. Okay, he needed to think. Needed to get off the train.

On shaky legs, he stumbled over to the door of the compartment. He opened it and stepped into the shaking corridor, looking around for someone who might tell him when the next stop was. He spotted a gentlemen dressed in what looked to be a uniform. Yes, this man would be his best bet. He stumbled over.

“Excuse me,” He said, trying to ignore how his stomach rolled and the bile trying to rise up his throat. “Could you tell m-”

“Not now!” The man snapped, looking frazzled. “I’ve got enough problems to deal with without passengers pestering me!”

Johannes was taken aback, stumbling back a couple steps as the man pushed past him into the next car. Not knowing what else to do, Johannes stumbled after him.

The next car appeared to be a dining car, with tables occupied by a collection of nervous looking people. These people looked more well off than him. Easily middle to upper class, having money to spare on nicer, fancier clothes. Looking around, Johannes felt helpless as he stepped into the dining car.

He went up to a young lady, who was nursing what appeared to be a gin and tonic, looking quite distressed. Any other time, he might’ve asked what was wrong and how he could help, but Johannes was feeling far too distressed himself to do anything of the sort.

“Excuse me, could you tell me where this train is going?”

The lady stared at him, as though he’d grown a second head in his sleep.

“Does it matter? The train is completely out of control!”

“I... what?”

“The brakes were damaged, probably by some ruffian,” The lady said, her hands shaking as she took a sip of her drink to try and calm herself. “The conductors are telling us not to panic, but the train is moving so fast, and we’ve no way of slowing it down or stopping! Oh, my mother was right! I should’ve taken the carriage.”

Johannes stopped listening to her nervous ramblings, his head swimming. The train was... he was on a runaway train. This was... oh, this was not good. This was not good.

“Sir,” He said, turning his attention to the barkeep. “Could you please tell me this train’s original destination? Before this whole... incident?”

“W-we were suppose to be heading for Stockholm,” Said the man. “Suppose our only destination now is the pearly gates, unless someone figures out what to do about the brakes.”

Stockholm? Did that mean he was in Sweden? Had they crossed the borders yet? Oh, this was bad. This was very bad.

He nodded to the man, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Oh, my intended stop is coming next,” He heard someone say. “If it weren’t for how fast we’re going and for my luggage, I might jump off the train for it.”

“I wouldn’t. God only knows how filthy and torn up my skirts would be.”

There was... there was a station coming up. A station means people. People means help. He... he had to get off. He had to get off the train.

Stumbling over, he looked out the window, trying desperately to see how long he had. He could see glimpses of signs whizzing past, but was unable to read them. He might as well have been trying to read another language entirely, it did that little good.

Great.

Well, there wasn’t much else for him to do, save try. He stumbled over to the door of the dining car. With any luck, there would be somewhere for him to land that didn't leave him too scraped up and bruised.

The sound of the wheels click-clacking on the tracks set his teeth on edge and his head pounding. He held to the safety rails, his knuckles stark white as he clung on. Leaning forward, he could see a ditch. In the distance, he could see the ditch became more and more grassy. If he was lucky, the grass might break his fall. He wasn’t sure how lucky he actually was, but that hardly mattered now, did it?

He steeled himself, his heart pounding in his chest. There was nothing else for it. He’d have to jump.

Closer and closer they came, and Johannes found himself rocking back and forth, preparing to launch himself.

One.

He was so close to the cushioning grass.

Two.

Hopefully he wouldn’t break anything.

Three.

He jumped, completely weightless. The train whizzed past him, roaring down the track. He tucked himself into a ball, trying to protect his head and stomach.

He almost missed the grassy portion of the ditch, slamming into the ground with a force that knocked the wind from him. He rolled down the slope, coming to a stop on his back. He gasped and wheezed, trying to get a sucking breath. There was water collecting in the bottom of the ditch, soaking his shirt and vest and trousers. He couldn’t find it in him to care.

He’d done it.

He’d done it.

He didn’t move at first. Everything felt like jelly, unable to bare his weight, even a little. But he tried, pushing himself up to lean on his elbows. Turning his head, blinking his bleary eyes, he could see the train racing off, wheels turning at a rate so fast, they were a blur.

He heard people shouting, heard someone running towards him. He looked to see a young man, dressed in a suit with a neat looking hat upon his head.

“My god, man! Are you alright?” He said, helping Johannes to his feet.

He nodded. He didn’t have enough air to verbally answer.

“Probably for the best that you jumped when you did. They’re saying the brakes went out on that train. Come on, let’s get you to the station. A warm drink will do you some good, and we’ll want to get you checked over.”

Johannes nodded, stumbling along the uneven ground. He was grateful to the man, who supported him, making it a bit easier to put one foot in front of the other.

He soon found himself sat in the station, given a warmed blanket and a mug of hot, steaming coffee. The grounding warmth helped to calm his shakiness, and the caffeine did wonders for his headache. A physician checked him over, commenting on just how lucky he was.

“A few bruised ribs by the looks of it, but it doesn’t feel like anything’s broken. You’ll be black and blue for a while, but all things considered, you should look much worse,” They said. “Drink up, and we’ll see what we can do for you.”

Everything felt like a blur. Nothing felt real as he sat in the chair. Perhaps it was shock. The panic was wearing off by now. It only made sense. But he found he couldn’t sit by, not until he asked a very important question.

“Can... can someone tell me where I am? What station is this?”

“We’re just outside the city of Karlstad.”

“And that’s in Sweden, isn’t it?”

The gentleman who answered his question nodded.

“I... yes. The train you jumped off, I believe it was bound for Stockholm.”

“That’s what I’ve been told, yes.”

“Were you... did you intend to board that train?”

Johannes shook his head slowly, taking a moment to sip his drink.

“I don’t know how I got on. The last thing I remember before I awoke in a compartment was... someone had drugged me. Chloroform.”

The man cursed.

“I’ve heard about people being drugged and smuggled across boarders. I’d hoped it wasn’t true but... it seems like that’s what was intended for you. Where about are you from?”

“O-Oslo. Norway.”

“You’re a ways from home then.”

Johannes nodded, giving a humourless chuckle.

“So it would seem.”

The man sighed, shaking his head.

“I’ll talk to some of the staff here for you, see if there’s anything that can be done to help you get home. For the time being, drink up,” He said, gently patting Johannes’ arm. “You look like you need it.”

The man walked briskly out of the room. Johannes watched him for a moment, sipping his coffee. He’d been very lucky, it seems. Very lucky indeed.