The Never Ending Train

3 Tremor

When I wake up, it's the middle of the night. There's a quiet hum of hushed conversation throughout the train. The man who was crying on the floor before is not there anymore, I don't know where he is. Looking around, I notice most people have their seats lowered down in a more horizontal position for more comfortable sleeping. I didn't know they did that.

With some sleep and quiet, my mind is clearer and I'm able to think. What I really need is answers right now. But instead of going around asking others, seeing as most are asleep anyways, I decide to find answers to my own situation.

Walking down the aisle, my shoes scarily loud in the quiet, I go back to the seat I first woke up in yesterday. Luckily, there's no one in it. I look around it, on the seat, under it, behind and in front. Underneath the seat, is the slip of paper I had completely forgotten about.

Do not get off the train until the very last stop.

There's nothing else on the crumpled piece of paper. I stuff it in my pocket. Then I check above, in the storage compartment for luggage. There's one duffle bag in there. I pull it down as quietly as possible, but that's hard considering it's surprising weight, and it's content clanking around inside. Luckily no one woke.

My hand glides over another piece of paper attached to the handles of the bag. In the dim moonlight, I'm able to make out my name: Scarlet Gursway. I blink, having no recollection of this duffle bag ever belonging to me in my lifetime. It's red, I hate red, contrary to what some might believe because of my name. It has a secondary black colour and pockets and whatnot stick out in every direction, too complicated and messy for my taste.

I unzip it. Unable to see anything but dark shapes, I whip out my phone and shine it's flashlight inside. Noticing my phone is almost dead, I make haste.

I thrust my hand inside, only to immediately pull it out in pain. There's something hard in there. I pull it out, a huge flashlight. It's one of the heavy duty ones, long and heavy. Why would I pack a flashlight this big? I reach in and pull out some batteries for the flashlight. Matches. A knife. A first aid kit. Some MREs. Tape. Extra bottles of water. Extra pairs of clothing. A small patch of fabric folded tightly within some plastic packaging, I have no idea what this is. A multipurpose tool. String. Food. Some other stuff I can't begin to name.

It's a duffle bag of basic survival tools. I stare at the items in my hand and think. An insane idea comes into my head. Whoever put me on this train, are they telling me to... leave my life behind and.. survive out here?? Why else would I be in a train whose destination I don't know with a survival kit with my name on it?

I stand there, looking at the things laid out on the seat before me. A few minutes pass and the reasonable thought to check for more things finally passes my jumbled mind. I step on the seat, careful to not crush anything, and hoist myself up so I can see deeper into the compartment. There's nothing there besides other people's bags. I sigh.

As I start to climb down, a little shake rattles the train and I roll over on my ankle, twisting it in the process, and crash onto the seat, just to roll off and land with a heavy thud on the floor. A scream pierces through the quiet of the night. Pain flares from my ankle and shoulder and head and everywhere else apparently.

I squeeze shut my eyes as I hold my ankle, waiting for the worst of it to subside. A few voices appear out of the night. "Hey, are you okay?" A few pairs of footsteps are heard coming towards me. But just as I'm opening my eyes, another bone rattling shake easily brings down everyone else that is standing.

Screams start to fill the car and someone turns the lights on, asking what's happening. I slide across the floor and my back hits the leg of another seat. Fully opening my eyes now, I see at least five more people on the floor or grasping the chairs for support. Others are waking up and shouts are beginning to rise.

I try to get up, avoiding using my left foot. "What's going on?" I look up at the familiar voice. The crying man from the day before appears in the doorway.

"The train is-" Someone begins to say, but her sentence is cut off by another one of her screams as the train sways violently to one side. A heavy man falls into me, bringing the both of us onto a seat. "Ah!" He screams. Our limbs tangling in intricate locks. "What hit me?!" He shouts, trying to untangle himself from me, his voice extra loud because it was so close to me.

Something thuds to the floor catching my attention. The heavy duty flashlight. I realize I left everything in that duffle bag out. Although not knowing why that stuff's there, I know I need it to survive. The realization comes as quick and sudden as another one of the train's shakes.

"Are we in the middle of an earthquake!?" Someone else shouts. Another teenage girl with fiery red hair. People are too panicked to even try and answer the question about what's going on.

The man I was struggling with for a while now is suddenly pulled back and is replaced by the crying man. I'm going to call him crying man until I know his name. He pulls me to my feet. The train is still shaking a little, only jolting violently every once in a while. I try to get my footing, holding onto the seats for balance, though most of them are down. My feet protests in pain, contorting my face into a grimace.

"Come on, we need to move up into the other cars!" He shouts. I nod at the same time that the train violently jerks to another side. I stumble into him and the both of us fall again. I'm getting tired of falling now.

My annoyance at falling is quickly swept away by crying man's appalling scream of agony. I look down at him from my spot on top. "A-are you okay?" He doesn't answer. His face is pulled away in pain. It's only when he manages to roll over on one side do I see the problem. He landed on the knife from my duffle.

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Cosmic here,

Is it too confusing to use "crying man" as a name?