Lost in Technicolor

Deafening Silence

For a few moments everything seemed silent and Drake was utterly confused to what had happened, until Damien had reached over and grabbed his shoulder, shouting something at him. Drake shook his head once or twice, but the words weren't making any sense.

He rubbed his eyes, "Drake!" Damien shouted at him. He gestured to Petra. There were far too many books piled onto the table for him to reach her himself.

Carefully, Drake removed the metal box from where it lay on her chest. It was extremely heavy. There was a wound on her right temple that was overflowing with blood.

"What the hell just happened?" Drake hissed at Damien as if it were his fault somehow.

"Well, the train stopped," Damien spat sarcastically, not allowing his eyes to leave Petra.

"No really?" Drake growled, shoving the books off of himself furiously. He glanced outside to see people filing out of their own booths and flooding the narrow hallway. They were all so cramped that some were pushing hard against the door to Drake's booth. Drake looked around the faces for Dane's but he couldn't catch sight of him. It was getting hot. Drake unbuttoned the first three buttons to his shirt and reached over to the window to let it down. It looked like a blizzard outside. The snow was being whipped back and forth by the wind so violently.

"There's probably a fire started somewhere near the front of the train," Damien hissed, taking his shirt off completely, letting his strong muscles show. "Do not open that window."

That was a stupid notion for Damien. If there was a fire they'd see the smoke out the window. "Why not?" Drake asked him suspiciously.

Damien shot him a funny look, "You've never noticed?"

Drake pursued his lips, "Obviously not," he hissed, "what is it?"

Damien grinned at him, "Go ahead open the window." Drake reached for it cautiously as Damien commented harshly, "Just a little bit though. I don't want to suffocate."

So Drake opened it just a crack and almost immediately a rush of hot black smoke poured into the booth. "Close it," Damien snapped through a series of coughs.

He closed it and locked it with a click, staring out the window at the cold crystal clear air surrounding them in amazement. "I don't understand."

Damien put on a haunting smile as the electricity began to flicker until it was pitch black. Drake sat there blinking, trying to sort out all of the presumptions he was begging to make about Damien somehow being the cause to all of this in an attempt to keep him from Monorail. Maybe all of this was him simply playing with his mind and none of it was real.

Out of the corner of his eye Drake noticed that a very dim red light was pulsating out side the window, bring Damien's smile in and out of view eerily, but how could that make sense if they were in the middle of nowhere. In fact there should have been light streaming in through the windows. Closing his eyes, Drake cursed his mind for not being able to figure it all out as the people out of their booth continued to scream out of fright.

"Drake," Damien whispered, loosing the grin. Drake didn't open his eyes quite then, but he could hear Damien shoving the volumes of books off the table to clear it.

"You did this didn't you!" Drake snapped, flashing his eyes at where he guessed Damien to be.

"What?" He spat, clearly as confused as he was vexed. "No, look Drake let me see Petra. Her wounds may be more serious than I thought, given that she hasn't moved a muscle or uttered a word in the past twenty minutes."

Drake frowned. How could he see her if it was pitch black? However he knew better than to argue with Damien and after feeling about for Petra he shifted her towards Damien. "Perfect," he muttered to himself after some time, sitting back down and wiping his bloodied hand over his white shirt laying on the table. Drake could hear the shuffling noise.