I Was Supposed To Be On Vacation

I woke up with a jolt and focused on the gray metal a few feet above me, feeling my body rock. What?

I was on a bed in a room. The blue cushioned chair and dark window a few feet away, combined with the motion, let me know exactly where I was but not how I had gotten here.

Why am I in a sleeper car on a train? An Amtrak train, judging by the colors?

I focused on the last thing I remembered, and the memory came quickly. I was in line at the airport, waiting to board the colorful plane visible beyond the large airport windows. I was supposed to be in Hawaii enjoying my vacation, not on a train. My eyebrows drew together. Why can't I remember getting on the plane or even reaching the end of the line? There was nothing beyond that memory of waiting.

I sat up on the bunk and swung my feet over. I was fully dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and my favorite running shoes. The lights were on but dim. I stood up and checked the top bunk, holding on as the train swayed. It was empty. I moved around the compartment, looking for luggage, yet found nothing. Not even a jacket. I walked to the small bathroom and opened the door.

The mirror drew my gaze, and I grimaced. I looked terrible. My short blond hair looked like it hadn't seen water in days. My skin was pale, and my eyes were bloodshot. I squinted; what is wrong with my mouth? I parted my lips, and my teeth were bloody. Eww.

I stepped into the small compartment, and my foot hit something. I looked down at a black case on the floor, several inches thick and taller than it was wide. I picked it up. It was not heavy and smaller than most purses. I set it on the almost nonexistent counter and ran some water to rinse my mouth. The drizzle of water the faucet produced was nearly as disturbing as waking up without any memory. Amtrak resupplies its trains constantly. The water should not be so low.

I was not terribly disturbed by blood; I just wanted to know why my mouth and teeth were coated in it. I rinsed three times, then inspected my mouth with my eyes and tongue. No apparent wounds. But a head injury could explain the amnesia and blood in my mouth. I placed a hand on my head and felt around for a lump, bruise, or cut. My neck was sore, probably from how I had slept, yet my head felt fine. My gaze moved to the black case, and I noticed the logo on the side. I sucked in a breath.

G-igx-51 was a biotech company that was not well known by the general public, despite its cutting-edge research and contributions to various medical and pharmacological advancements. I knew about G-igx-51, because it was where I worked. I felt a heavy sense of trepidation in my gut as I reached for the black zipper, slowly moved it through the metal teeth sealing the case shut, and then opened it.

Nestled into a protective molded lining within a compartment built into the case, were seven capped, fluid-filled syringes, a small bottle, and an empty space where an eighth syringe should have been. I used a finger to turn the bottle until the label was visible.

The world tilted.

A series of numbers was handwritten across the top, and below were my initials. The numbers indicated a date, an experiment number, and a strain or species. Icewater flooded my veins as the date on the bottle registered. I gripped the counter as vertigo slammed into me. I was missing nearly 9 weeks of memories and events that were clearly very important.

Okay, deep breaths, Cat, don't you dare pass out; you can figure this out. You got this! You have a damn Ph.D. and head an entire department at one of the world's most advanced labs.

I looked into my own hazel eyes with determination as the world righted itself. Then examined the label again. It did not have the usual marking to indicate if it was a vaccine or parasite treatment. I ran the parasitic infections unit at G-igx-51, not virology. Yet, I was occasionally called in when a virus and parasite shared a vector, so I had my name on several projects and knew enough about the science I could have worked in the department. It just scared the hell out of me, and so I stayed away unless absolutely needed.

Memory loss can be connected to cognitive impairment. I need something I can use to perform a cognitive test on myself. I looked at the mirror, an idea forming. I took my finger and wrote four numbers on the glass, counted to 180, repeated the numbers, leaned forward, and breathed onto the glass. Perfect match.

Satisfied, I zipped up the case, pulled the shoulder strap over my head, so the case was snug under one arm, and headed for the cabin door. I put my hand on the handle, and the train flew around a curve. A short scream escaped me as I flew backward, stumbled into the chair, and sat jarringly. The sickening sensation of the train tilting shot through me. This train is going to fly off the damn tracks. It's going too fast!

The train shuddered as it straightened, and the cry of a train crossing signal flew past the window behind me. I turned to the window, stood, and cupped my hands against the glass to block the cabin light as I stared out into the darkness. Did we pass a town, or are we entering one now?

Ambient light outlined trees and bushes faintly alongside the tracks, then suddenly, the area opened to reveal a street. A burning car whizzed by, and a neighborhood was in flames in the distance. Screams rose, reached a crescendo, then rapidly faded as the train blasted past. It happened in the blink of an eye, and my brain struggled to process everything I had just seen. What the hell is happening?

I stood. If there's a virus running amok, I should take precautions. I located the packaged towel I had come across earlier, wet it in the center with the trickle of water from the faucet, and wrapped it around my mouth. I then walked to the cabin door, grabbed the handle, flipped the latch keeping it closed, and slid it to the left an inch. The hallway beyond was as dimly lit as the room. I listened but heard nothing beyond the train moving along the tracks. I opened it further and stuck my head out, relieved to find the hall empty. I was in the last cabin and could see the door to the luggage car on my right. Left would take me to the front of the train.

I briefly considered exploring the entire train back to front, but the more pressing concern of slowing the train had me turning the other way. The lights flickered, and I was plunged into complete darkness for two seconds before the lights came on again. Well great. I was hoping I could wander a creepy speeding train in the dark after suffering amnesia.

I moved to the next cabin and glanced in the open door. The bunks were up, and clothing was draped over the couch and chair. I stepped further into the room and confirmed it was empty before heading to the next cabin and the next. There were 6 sleeper cabins in the car, and as I approached the last one, I immediately knew this room was different. It was the smell.

I took a second to collect myself and stepped closer, reminding myself to breathe through the towel over my mouth. The bunks were down, clothing was tossed around, and the smell was overpowering. The bathroom was open, and the floor was covered in a dark substance. I shook as I checked the room, confirming it was empty. But something had happened here. Blood was splattered on the couch and walls, easily seen on the light interior. I wasn't sure if what was in the bathroom was blood, vomit, or both, and I wasn't getting close enough to find out. I wasn't exposing myself to any unnecessary fluids if I could help it. What I wouldn't give for my lab gear.

Each train car was separated by two doors on either side of a vestibule. I depressed the wall panel, which opened the first door, walked across the noisy enclosed space, and peered through the glass window. The car beyond was an observation car. Swivel chairs, tables, and a service bar were visible in the dim light. I couldn't see any movement, so I held the towel to my mouth with one hand and pressed the panel to open the door. It slid open silently, and I stepped through, hand out to the side in case I lost my balance. I had been on several fast-moving trains, yet nothing compared to this. I could feel the world whipping past us, and it took a real concentrated effort to keep my balance.

Like the cabins, there were signs people had been here. Spilled drinks, Purses, jackets, and opened packages of various snack foods, yet not a single person. There was no blood or indication something terrible had happened. The food spilled on the floor was free of mold, and drink stains looked wet. Whatever happened, it was recent, I thought.

The lights flickered again. I need a flashlight.

I snagged a bottle of hand sanitizer from a basket attached to the service bar and quickly searched the purses and jackets, finding plenty of makeup and credit cards. I was about to give up when I spotted a silver square on the floor. A zippo! I scooped it up, doused my hands in sanitizer, and cleaned the zippo. I flipped it open once the ethanol had dried and smiled as the lighter ignited. It would do in a pinch. I slid it into my pocket and moved to the next vestibule door.

The view through the window into the next car was straight out of a horror movie. Rows and rows of seats faced away from me and faded into shadowy outlines in the dim flickering light near the other end of the car. The train swayed, the sound of the tracks filled my ears, and nothing moved. It was more terrifying than the room with the blood.

You would think my line of work would make me immune to fictional horror stories about epidemics. In reality, it gave me more fodder for nightmares. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

I stepped up to the first row of thankfully empty seats, then moved forward slowly, tugging my towel up. I paused in the third row, staring at the window seat on my right, where a soft gray plush rabbit rested. I tried not to dwell on where the young owner of the stuffed animal was; I just took a moment to hope they were unharmed and safe. I was ¾ of the way to the end of the long car when my gaze snagged on something lying on the floor. I sucked in a breath. I moved quickly towards the arm I could see peeking around the last row of seats on the right. As I hurried forward, my gaze skimmed the empty seats in the final rows, even as I worried about the person lying on the floor ahead. I reached the front of the car, turned to the right, my eyes on the floor and the hand, and then froze.

What? What is…?

Like a macabre puzzle built by an insane person, the pieces did not naturally come together. It took several seconds of concentrated effort to process what lay before me, and once it clicked, I turned away and dry heaved. My stomach cramped, having nothing to offer as my thoughts skipped about like a record off its track. It wasn't a person on the floor; it was several parts of different people.

I could really use my memory about now!

I took calming breaths through the towel, one hand steadying me on a chair back. As the train swayed, I took an unconscious step forward, and my foot hit something solid. I jumped and stifled a scream, feeling my calm evaporate as my wide eyes scanned the floor near my foot. A narrow cylindrical object, which looked familiar, rested near my right shoe. I slid the lighter out of my pocket, flicked it on, and held it close. I knew exactly what it was, I owned one.

I contemplated the ASP expandable baton on the floor; it looked clean, but I couldn't be sure. The hand sanitizer was left in the previous car, and although touching it was a risk, something had killed those people. I need more than a lighter to defend myself. I ran a finger down the textured baton, which felt as clean as it appeared. I returned the lighter to my pocket, picked up the baton, stood, and flicked my wrist, extending its length.

I already felt better. I knew how to use it, thanks to my ex-fiance. I wondered briefly if Griff had been deployed locally or was still overseas when the country was clearly going to hell. Then I shook off the thought and moved forward. I wasn't concerned. If anyone could survive this mess, it was Griffon.

I moved to the next junction between cars and grimaced at the identical sea of passenger seats that awaited me. I gripped the baton and reached for the door, then flew forward as the train decelerated hard like someone jammed on a brake. Before I could recover the train hit a curve and the change in velocity tossed me into the vestibule wall. I braced myself on the ridged metal floor, and something thumped against the door on my left.

The light from the passenger car was still dim, but I could see something moving. I felt the train start to come out of the turn and kept my position, barely, when the train straightened with a lurch. I crouched and approached the window. It was high enough in the metal door that I could duck beneath it. I slowly raised my head just high enough for my eyes to top the metal and see through the glass.

Nothing moved. I knew I was shaking because the baton tapped my leg rhythmically. I'm a lab geek; I get winded running to the bathroom. I am not cut out for this horror movie stuff! I thought, trying to calm down and rationalize. Something that might have worked before the murder pile in the last car.

I waited and waited. Nothing happened, and my breathing slowed. When my heart stopped trying to beat its way out of my chest, I reached for the door and then paused. On impulse, I tapped the glass with my fingernails, listened, and then did it again harder. Nothing happened.

"You're freaking yourself out, Cat," I said, closing my eyes and giving a short shake of my head.

I opened my eyes and screamed. A mangled face was pressed against the glass of the door. A sick feeling hit me in the abdomen as people rushed towards the person trying to force their face through the glass. I stepped back so rapidly that I hit the door behind me and depressed the panel to open the door. I stumbled backward as the door opened and looked across the junction in horror.

I turned and ran.

I hit the door at the end of the passenger car, opened it, and jumped through, hitting the next panel before my feet even touched down. I crossed into the cafe car and glanced behind me, seeing the door to the passenger car close before a mass of bodies reached it. I cursed the design of the train and those push panels as I kept running and didn't stop until I was back at my cabin. I ducked inside, then peeked around the doorframe. There was no movement in the observation car. I quickly closed and latched the cabin door and leaned against the wall.

I'm trapped. I'm going to die on this damn train.

The thought was like a bucket of ice water dumped on my head, and I almost started gasping as the horror of the situation sunk in fully. I moved over to the bunk to steady myself and felt something crunch beneath my foot. I looked down. It was an empty syringe. It must have rolled under the bunk when I was looking earlier. Wait, empty?

I walked to the bathroom, and a strong sense of deja vu hit me as I looked into the mirror. I set the case down, pulled my shirt off, and my eyes latched onto the wound on my left bicep. I turned and examined it more closely. Two half circles and just below, a barely visible puncture mark. I gripped the sink and leaned forward. Trying not to pass out. The perfect bloody half moons left little doubt as to what had made the wound on my arm. It was thankfully healing.

I injected myself close to the wound, but why? Because it's not a virus! The proverbial lightbulb went off in my mind. It was something that traveled differently through the body. A parasite. Eight syringes and a bottle with easily four more doses... Why am I carrying so much? I must have been bringing this to someone!

It was the only logical reason why I would have packed the case and boarded a train instead of remaining where I lived. It was more important than ever that I slowed the train. But how? I looked around the cabin, assessing. There were no vents to crawl through above or below. The window didn't open and was solid. Assuming I could break it, the noise would draw the infected, and the outside of the train was smooth. No handholds.

I pulled my shirt back on, slid the case into place, then moved to the cabin door and listened. It was difficult to hear anything over the sounds of the train. Slowly I unlatched the door. I placed one hand on the handle and the other on the door and slid it open a fraction of an inch. The hallway was empty. I kept moving the door until it was open just wide enough that I could squeeze my head out and peek into the hall. I looked to the left first and quickly pulled myself back into the room. There was movement in the vestibule but not in the sleeper car itself.

I was close to the back of the car, but if they saw me, they would come after me, and I had no idea what to expect from the back of the train. I could enter the luggage car, but it was likely just a straight path through rows of tied-down luggage. Even if I make it to the last car, then what? Leap from the train? Obviously not. But I couldn't stay here either.

Several ideas crept into my brain, all dependent on the design of the train. I slid the door open and glanced to the left. The infected appeared to shuffle about in the vestibule, but I couldn't look long enough to be sure. I could only hope moving slowly and quietly would not draw their attention.

I stepped out, right shoulder first, facing the door to the observation car, and moving slowly even though everything in me wanted to get away as quickly as possible. I pressed back against the wall and kept my head turned towards the front of the train as I moved my right foot a short step, followed by my left. For once, I was happy when the lights flickered.

I reached the back of the car, depressed the panel behind me, and stepped into the empty vestibule as soon as the door was open. I took a shaky breath as the door slid shut before confirming the sleeper car was still empty. I moved to the train exit, disengaged the safety latches, grabbed the handle, and pulled the door open. I was grateful that Amtrak trains had doors that could be opened while the train was in motion. Wind buffeted me as the darkened landscape rushed by, and it dawned on me that the sound alone might draw the infected back here.

I needed to be quick. I gripped the handrails near the open door and leaned forward. There was no ladder, but climbing on the train had been plan C anyways. A gust of wind rocked me. Okay, maybe Plan F. I leaned forward, and my eyes found the ribbed metal step and outside rail. I had hoped for a step wide enough for two feet, but it would have to do.

I opened the sleeper car door and yelled at the top of my lungs. "I hate Zombies!" Then I hit the baton against the metal door, keeping it from closing. The effect was immediate. The door across the car opened, and bodies burst inside.

I watched the pile of bodies try to surge forward at the same time and hinder each other. I realized this was likely how I had escaped the first time. The first few made it out of the mass, and the lights went out. I backed up, unable to see anything. I moved towards the exit, the cold breeze and slightly lighter night sky my only indication of how close I was to the edge of the open doorway. Suddenly the lights flickered back on, and I screamed and swung the baton without thinking.

I hit the closest infected, and its head snapped to the side. It collapsed backward and was buried as the mass of enraged, torn-apart bodies surged towards me. I dropped the baton and sprinted for the open door. I grabbed the outside handle with both hands and swung my body out the door. The speed of the train flung me towards the open door and I struggled to get my foot on the step as bodies burst past me into the night.

I fought gravity and leaned away from the door. A steady stream of bodies tumbled out of the train as I held on for dear life. Hands grabbed me, but none could hold on as the next infected plowed into them. Hair whipped my face, and the bodies abruptly stopped falling out of the car. I leaned towards the door, stuck my head inside, and yelled. An infected rushed through the open car door right at me. I yanked myself back but not in time.

It collided with me and knocked my foot off the step. My right hand slipped, and pain shot through my left wrist. The infected held onto my right leg, dragging me down as it tried to get its mouth on me. I kicked it in the face, yelling curses. My left hand slipped, and I swung my leg for all I was worth. My foot collided with its face, and the weight abruptly left as it lost its grip. I grabbed the rail with my right hand, pulled myself up, and fell into the train's vestibule.

I stood and hobbled to the car door. My left wrist hurt like hell. It was likely sprained, and my right knee was not doing so great after having so much weight pulling on it. I moved through the train, regretting the loss of my baton. The last passenger car was a bloody, horrifying mess that would give me nightmares for the rest of my life. The dining car was oddly pristine. I located a large steak knife and shish kabob skewer in the downstairs kitchen and proceeded to the remaining sleeper cars feeling slightly less vulnerable. I reached the power car without incident and wondered if I was fortunate enough to have cleared the train of infected.

The junction between the power car and the rest of the train was different. The vestibule was narrow instead of wide and there was no window in the door. The door lacked a push panel and didn't budge when I tried to open it. A small intercom was next to a keypad, and I depressed the button to speak.

"Hello? This is Doctor Catherine Rosh," I said.

I waited. "I would like to speak with the conductor."

It was silent. What if the conductor is dead? The thought made my heart race.

"You made it." The relief was evident in the man's voice. "The code is 7, 9, 3, 3, 5, 1. Use the com inside to let me know when you're in."

He's not inside? Damn my missing memories! Obviously, we had some sort of arrangement.

I plugged in the code, and there was a loud click. I pushed the metal door, which swung open to an empty room. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. There were windows at the front of the train and on the sides. The headlights were bright; Yet very little could be seen beyond the tracks and grassy flatland.

My eyes skipped over the instrument panels and two empty chairs, a bunk, and a table before landing on the intercom on the island between conductor chairs. I sat down and depressed the button.

"I'm inside; what do I need to do?" I asked.

"Locate the GPS map and read the coordinates to me."

I located the panel and read him the numbers listed on the screen. My eyes skipped over the speedometer and then flew back. Damn, that's fast?

"Shit, you are going to need to slow the train faster than expected," he said.

"Okay, tell me what to.."

A staticky voice interrupted and made me jump.

"Train 158, what is your eta?" came a woman's voice.

How do I respond?

"Someone is asking for our eta," I spoke into the intercom.

"Use the phone. Just pick up and speak. Eta is approximately 25 minutes. Respond quickly; we need to slow this train!"

I located the phone and lifted it from its cradle.

"Eta 25 minutes. Coming up fast and have to slow the train," I said.

There was a pause, and I reached for the intercom.

"Has the onboard situation been neutralized?" she asked.

Onboard situation? Did they know about the infected

"To the best of my knowledge, all infected have been removed," I said.

"Copy, we will see you soon. No one leaves the train until we give the all-clear, understood?"

"Yes."

I hung up and activated the intercom.

"What do I do?" I asked.

It was surprisingly complicated operating a train. I listened carefully and followed every instruction. When the train's speed slowed, I breathed a sigh of relief. I leaned back in the chair and relaxed. I was set to contact the man again about 5 minutes from our destination. I had wanted to ask who he was and what was going on, but I wasn't sure how I would explain my memory loss.

The chair was a swivel chair and I turned slightly and rested my head in my hands. I looked down and a familiar green strap caught my eye. My bag! How did I miss that? I scooped it up and hobbled over to the bunk.

Twenty minutes later, I guided the train to a small depot outside Seattle. My mind was spinning as I'd just shoved two months' worth of information into it. Apparently, I had never taken that trip to Hawaii. My bag contained my research. Research that explained my memory loss and why I was on the train. Following the instructions, I halted the train and shut it down.

I stood up, my body taking a moment to adjust to the lack of motion, and waited. There was an exit door near one of the windows and someone banged on it.

"All clear, open up," a feminine voice called.

I opened the door and a woman in military fatigues was waiting for me. I quickly descended the two steps to the ground outside. Soldiers were everywhere. I looked down the train, and my breath caught. People were exiting the back of the train. A lot of people, including a little girl.

I turned to the female soldier. "There's something I need from the train," I said. She raised her eyebrows.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I watched from a distance as the soldier brought the scared little girl her gray bunny. My heart swelled at the girl's evident joy as she clutched the stuffed animal to her small chest. The soldier had refused to let me back on the train but had agreed to locate the plush toy and douse it in sanitizer before returning it to the child.

"Cat," said a familiar deep voice behind me, pulling my attention from the touching scene. My eyes widened.

I turned and met the piercing gaze of Major Caleb Griffon.

He smiled at me. A torrent of emotions swept through me, but another voice spoke before I could even open my mouth.

"Doctor Rosh, it is a pleasure," spoke a small woman with a lovely Indian accent. "I am Doctor Chettiar. I am anxious to read your research. It looks promising."

"It's more than promising. It's a solution," I said.

Her expression didn't change; she was the very definition of stoic. So I stepped closer, grabbed the collar of my shirt, and pulled it down. Her eyes dipped, widened, and then flew up to mine. I released my shirt; no one else had seen.

Shock and hope rippled across her features as her composure broke. "A solution," she repeated.

******************** End of Challenge Entry *********************

This is a side story for a series currently being published. Amazon links for the series will be added after publication. All train images were downloaded from Amtrak.com and edited. Photo credits were not provided on the Amtrak website.

If interested in some background as to how Cat ended up alone, while the rest of the passengers and conductor were in the back of the train, ask in the comments and I will reply with a link to the background.