Feared

Six: Refuelling

The train snaked along the snow-scarred valleys and through deep tunnels beneath the mountains, cutting its way south. As it passed further inland, the craggy hills of the coast gave way to snow covered terrain, a great blanket of white, tinged with hues of blue, mauve, grey and silver as the watery sun passed across the pale dome of the sky.

Day blurred to night and then dawn came once more, but they still had failed to make any great dent in the distance between the compound and Washington D.C.

The train they travelled on was for them and them alone. The guards and their rescuers accompanied them, ensuring that the students made it to D.C. without any hiccoughs, though they hardly noticed their presence at all.

About mid-afternoon, on their second day of travelling, the train halted to refuel in the small town of Windsor. It was the first time the students had been allowed to escape the confines of the train, the first chance they had had to stretch their legs since leaving the compound.

Charlotte slid from her seat, zipping up her coat and stretching, as she followed the others that joined the throng moving towards the exits. The doors slid open with a hiss and the steely air flooded the compartment, making Charlotte's eyes water.

The students streamed onto the platform, the snow lying thick beneath their boots. A few snowballs flew through the air, but the moving crowd were becoming too dense for them to be effective. A single, wood clad building stood by the tracks. The door, framed with timetables and train routes, was open despite the cold, revealing a shadowed waiting room beyond the snow and students.

Charlotte tore her eyes from the little cabin, glancing back to James, Ian and the others who had already moved along the platform towards the town in the distance.

"Not too far, guys," she heard Fiennes yelling from one end of the long platform. Nobody seemed to heed his words.

"Hey you can't go out there," one of the guards grunted, trying to stop some of the students exiting into a small parking lot, sheltering a few cars. Charlotte watched as the guards herded the students back in the direction they wanted them to go, their faces hard, expressionless masks. They clutched their weapons tightly as if expecting they would have need of them.

"Follow the signs to the street," Fiennes called. "You have been permitted to walk around the park until we are ready to leave".

Charlotte stayed put, waiting until most of the crowd had moved on. If Fiennes caught sight of her, he would have her issuing orders, leading her fellow students. They had already decided she was to be their public representative once they reached D.C. so for now she felt like doing her best to remain in the shadows, away from the limelight, away from everybody.

Windsor was a small and quiet town. Its single platform was deserted apart from those who had just disembarked the train, though they too had thinned greatly; the main bulk already spilling out on the streets of Windsor. The armed guards were herding the students as if they weren't capable of going that way independently. Charlotte watched them, realising she had now lost track of the others completely. It was nice though, to have her own space for that moment, to be able to think clearly in the fresh air.

"Keep moving," another guard snapped, and Charlotte looked up half-expecting to find him glowering at her, but he was ushering Freya Baak and her friends from a lower carriage. Freya moved gingerly as if still in pain though Charlotte knew that was impossible. Harris had said it was more pain of the mind than of the body, and there was very little he could do about that.

Freya had taken Charlotte's place when she had left the island first, when James and Matt had forced her into exile. Freya had pretended to be Charlotte in order to give Charlotte a chance to escape Elmhirst's wrath, but the part she had played in Charlotte's escape had almost cost Freya her life.