Commute

Liam gazed out of the train window at the rolling countryside. A
bleak patchwork quilt made up of dirty grey fields and spidery pylons
stretched as far as the eye could see. He found himself thinking back
over the past few hours as he sat and waited, after all there wasn't
much else to do.
He'd boarded the train at eight thirty am as usual and taken his
regular seat by the window. Settling in the chair he took a brief
glance at his fellow passengers for the morning. Directly opposite him
sat a copy of the Financial Times with a pair of pinstripe trousers
protruding from the bottom, a stockbroker was Liam's guess. To his
right a pair of young girls decked out in chequered school uniforms
that looked like a psychedelic chessboard tittered and scribbled
together in an exercise book. As Liam began to wonder what vulgarities
they may be writing the tannoy made its usual muffled screech to inform
everyone the train would be departing shortly. Leaning back and closing
his eyes he hoped the soothing motion of the carriage would allow him a
brief nap before arriving in the city. As the train entered a dark
inkblot of a tunnel he began to drift away.
The next few moments had been rather clouded in his memory before but
now he was replaying them with cinematic clarity. His slumber had been
brought to an abrupt halt at precisely eight forty three. This was
engraved on his memory because upon waking he'd checked his watch to
make sure they weren't running late. This brief pause only provided
momentary solace before his world was plunged into chaos.
First the fluorescent lighting began to flicker then dim, followed by
a loud crunch that sounded like the death rattle of a crushed aluminium
can. By now the chequered girls were beginning to sob and pinstripe had
disappeared altogether. Liam assumed he'd run to the lavatory but did
not have long to dwell on the matter. The crunch was getting louder and
closer like the roar of some colossal beast. Now fully awake and
sweating profusely Liam leapt to his feet and looked down the length of
the carriage. Behind him all seemed normal with everything in its place
but towards the front of the train all that could be seen through the
window was frenzied glimpses of people flitting back and forth.
As he was about to tear his gaze away so he might get his bearings a
new horror appeared on the screen of the window. An elderly man was
frantically rapping on the glass mouthing what looked like "help" but
it was intermingled with so many other words it was difficult to tell.
Before considering whether or not it was a sensible choice Liam found
his feet propelling him towards the door, funny, he'd never pictured
himself as the heroic type. Reaching the small cabin door he tried the
handle but it was jammed tight. It was then that he made the mistake at
taking a closer look at the scene on the other side of the glass.
It had not in fact been people running about; rather they'd been
thrown as an array of bodies littered one side of the carriage. A field
of broken glass had been sewn down the other side and barbed and broken
twigs and foliage protruded through the holes where the windows had
been. In the centre of it all a huge monolith of a tree trunk had cut
through the very metal of the carriage like some massive cleaver. There
was a mottled red mess underneath that looked rather like a tinned
tomato but Liam quickly moved his eyes away from the spectacle feeling
his stomach churn and a sickening taste rise in his throat. He looked
again at the man and wondered whether he considered himself lucky to be
alive or unlucky that he was stuck at the centre of such a bloodbath
with no way out. No, mustn't think about that now. Have to help.
He turned back to his comparatively orderly carriage and searched for
something to break the glass. It was times like this he wished he took
a briefcase to the office. Wait! The stockbroker, perhaps he'd left one
in his seat. He dashed back to check but no luck. All that sat on the
chair was that useless newspaper. Looks like it was down to brute force
then. He turned back but only in time to witness a new terror.
The beast began to roar again with an even more agitated and strained
ferociousness. The floor started to positively vibrate and rang with
the sound of the smashed glass like some demented sleigh bells. Then
the world was thrown to its knees. One moment the carriage was upright
and the next everything was in motion, light to dark to light again.
Over and over until the scene was silenced by Liams head colliding with
a metal bar.
That seemed like a lifetime ago now but it was a life he would never
forget. Birds fluttered overhead and Liam wondered whatever had
happened to that stockbroker. The evening sun was beginning to glisten
through the rather draughty holes in the carriage wall. Liam began to
wonder if the paramedics would ever find him. Well he could only sit
and wait, as he was so painfully aware, this was countered by a gentle
numbness however, which was both comforting and scary at the same time.
He was starting to go cold and could see his hands had become pale.
Gazing down towards his chest he tilted his head to one side and
studied once more the metal partition that he had been impaled upon and
now held him still. He'd thought of trying to move it but had come to
the conclusion it must be the only thing stopping the bleeding and
keeping his innards where they belonged. No, nothing to do but wait
until the medics found him or&;#8230;well or much worse. He peered
once more out across the countryside and the crimson sky then turned
his head to the pile of wreckage that sat next to him. From beneath the
pile of bent and burnt metal and plastic something peeked out, a small
piece of chequered fabric.