He grabbed Ryan's hand, pulling him up with ease.
The inside of the train had been transformed into a den, cosy, but a little too packed for Ryan's taste. Sheets covered every window and the seats had been unscrewed and pushed to one end to form makeshift beds, lit by lights covered with a purple filter that gave the whole carriage a glowing, dusky feel. Soft jazz music added to the air of unnecessary sophistication.
He stepped gingerly over the piles of cards and beer bottles discarded on the floor to take a seat on the 'bed'. Four pairs of eyes watched him closely. Brendon slid the door shut as the train gathered speed again.
"Who are you?" Ryan asked, once he'd caught his breath.
"We cross the country," The man kneeled in front of him, eyes bright with passion and intoxication. "Saving those who are stranded and bringing hope to those who need it most. We look the wave in the face, and we say no! We haven't got a name yet. I was thinking The Rescuers, but it's a bit basic, don't you think?"
"We don't need a name!" A shadow behind him exclaimed. "We don't do this for the glory."
"Very true," He nodded, approving. "It's all about the thrill of the chase."
"I was thinking more along the lines of helping people."
"That's, ah, very nice," Ryan interrupted, wondering drily what glory they hoped to achieve when the amount of rescued people amounted to a grand total of six. "Really, very admirable. But I meant what are your actual names?"
"Oh. Sorry. We get carried away." He seemed to be genuinely embarassed, but the lighting made it hard to tell whether a flush spread across his face or not. "I'm Theo. Those are Jon, Spencer, Louis. You?"
"Ryan." He didn't want to make small talk. The lights and the confined space and the smell of cologne and alcohol was suffocating and the music numbed his mind. Already he missed the clean, crisp air of the forest, and the freedom and the cool wetness of the morning dew and the shade around the mighty trunks and the innocence of the birds and the sound of Brendon's voice filling his ears.
It had been Paradise.
Now it was Paradise Lost.
Wherever they were headed was sure to be packed with survivors, all competing and fighting like dogs to get what they wanted. Never again would he bask in the beautiful, lonely isolation he'd grown to love. Its fragility had been part of the appeal, but he'd hoped it would end cleanly, with water in his lungs and Brendon's hand in his. Not like this, a return to the sort of life he'd had before. He wanted the music to stop. He wanted the people to stop. He wanted everything to just stop.
His ears tuned reluctantly back in to the conversation.
"So," Brendon was asking. "Who's driving the train?"
"My sister," Theo answered, taking a swig from a dark bottle and handing it to Louis.
"I'm gonna go say thanks." Ryan stood up, feeling like he was about to collapse. Pricks of colour danced before his eyes.
When the door of the carriage clicked shut behind him, the music and buzz of conversation died instantly.
It was cool in the cab, and blissfully quiet, with only the thrumming of the wheels for his racing heartbeat to keep time with. Two gleaming circles of light on the tracks were the only things that broke the darkness.
The woman who had saved his life didn't turn, just flicked her gaze upwards to make eye contact with Ryan's reflection in the windshield.
"Hey," she smiled. "You're one of the new guys."
YOU ARE READING
Deus Ex Diluvium (Ryden)
AdventureAt the end of the world, where is there left to run? It doesn't matter, Brendon claims, as long as you keep running. Run, like Ryan, who never made much of the life he had and didn't care much about losing it, but runs anyway. Run, like Brendon, a p...
