A Dragon's Hoard

The City Of Conflict - Somebody Likes Trains

The florescent lighting plainly showed off the sharp edges and worn state of the brick and tile on the metro's walls and floor. The air was filled with the white noise of strangers' voices and footsteps. Tom glanced down at the slip of paper in his hand, keeping to himself. The black and yellow stripped line which marked where pedestrians shouldn't stand was a few yards away with a small handful of nobodies standing between him and possible doom. He wasn't sure if the info he'd gotten about a possible dimension traveler outpost was accurate or not but it never  hurt to try. Unless it did. Then it really wouldn't matter. A small scuffle or a lost appendage wasn't too big a deal. He slipped the paper into his back pocket, glancing around the lose crowd that, nonetheless, towered above his head. He wondered for a moment whether or not he'd ever get called out for being a thirteen year old alone on the metro ever again. Probably not. He hadn't gotten called out for being out of place in years. He seemed to remember that someone had mentioned to him that he acted like he knew what he was doing even when he didn't. He knew he never did. What was the point of that?

The white noise was overcome with the sound of the oncoming train. Tom took a step back as the train squealed on the tracks and a harsh breeze came through from the train's motion. He sighed as the white noise resumed once the train doors opened. They all shuffled onto the train. Well dressed businessmen, casually dressed tourists, and the common school uniforms and schoolbags of the independent highschooler. He glanced around at the sorry crowd around him and the conglomeration of muted moods on everyone's faces. He sat in one of the empty seats up against the wall, folding into himself with a sigh.

The train sped along the tracks through the claustrophobic tunnels they were built to crawl through. Tom sat there with his chin resting in his hand. He had busied himself examining someone's gloves from afar. He didn't know them and he didn't much care but they were the only one in this car who was wearing gloves aside from Tom himself. It was at least interesting enough for him to occupy himself until this person got off the train and left him alone with his thoughts again. Unless Tom was going to get off the train first. Which would be the best case scenario.

Tom glanced out a window as they left the tunnels to travel on open land. He squinted as the sun reached his eyes. 
They weren't out of the tunnels for very long before the train started to slow. Tom's brow furrowed as he looked up at the map inside the train. They wouldn't be coming up to another station for at least fifteen minutes. The train slowed to a stop. The doors didn't open and there were a few murmurs from the crowd around him. They definitely weren't at a station.
There was a loud bang and a rumble as the train shook. Tom stood, ready to break the glass or force the doors open if he had to. There was an explosion. But why only once the train had stopped? The train was starting to get louder as there were more murmurings of problems with the train. Tom could hear footsteps on the train's roof. Several others were also looking up with him. One of the emergency hatches on the car's roof opened suddenly, leading to several gasps and stifled yelps. Something small fell into the car, hitting someone in the head. There was a loud hiss. Tom's feet seemed to move on their own as he saw the car start to fill with smoke. He rushed to one of the doors, first trying to force it open with his bare hands before trying to judge whether or not to use other tactics. He couldn't do much before the smoke got to him. He was pulled out of the way by a familiar set of gloves before he heard the screech of warping metal. He was thrown out of the train onto the grass below, coughing. He gulped down fresh air, shoving himself onto his feet. The same gloved person came out, dragging several of the train's passengers with him who were seemingly unconscious from the gas. He jumped back onto the train, still full of energy. Tom was going to go after him before he noticed the figures standing on the train car's roof. Actually, all across the entire train. There were maybe twenty of them. Some looked younger than others but they were all wearing dark clothing and something covering half or more of their faces. An assortment of grungy looking people. A gang maybe?  Several of them who were wearing gas masks slipped into the car from above, soon emerging dragging glove dude from the car, struggling against them. He took a step back as three of them lept from the roof and ran at him at top speed. He wasn't expecting this response and didn't have long to react; they were on him in a moment. He felt one grab his arm, another shove a bag over his head, then searing pain explode on the side of his head. 

He couldn't remember much after that. Not until he woke up again. But the train was long gone once he had.