Rob Does Words
Treating fiction poorly since 2019

12 December 2023


The train rattled along its lines, only slowing to take curves or to pass through unlit stations. Both the rails and the train itself were twenty years out of date, but the order of the day was if it still worked, use it.

Besides the driver, there were half a dozen passengers onboard this night. The last train out to the new suburbs, an hour long ride from the central city, and still another 55 minutes ahead of them. Each of them rode this train for a different reason.

Melinda, a mother of three, had only just finished her shift in the hospital. She was a cleaner and this week had her finishing at a little after 10pm. This train ran at 10 past 10, so she didnt bother driving in; wasting all the petrol and money neither she nor her currently unemployed husband had. She was a regular on this line, although she recognised no one tonight. Her headphones played soft jazz quietly in her ears. The one time she could find to listen to something she enjoyed.

Like Melinda, Gary rode the train to save money. He had ambitious goals and the stubborn streak – although he called it sticktoitiveness – to achieve them. He had calculated that riding the train to work saved him enough per year that by the time he was able to take the big vacation he had been aching for for the last five years, he could upgrade to a better hotel room. Tonight he had taken a rare night off. He had gone into the city to see a music show – his cousin was in the band – and had decided to forget about his savings for the night. He smiled contently, leaning against the window as the train rattled away, the tipsy feeling slowly abating. By the time he reached his stop, he would be back in the real world. His stop was one of the ‘single person’ buildings; small apartments, barely large enough for one person but cheap. Gary wasnt living a luxurious life, but every few years he could treat himself like a king. In a lot of ways, this was the only thing that kept him going.

Trevor and Adele werent a couple. They swore black and blue that they had never touched each other. They were friends and anyone who said otherwise was a damn liar. The two of them took the train because none of their friends did. There was no one around to watch them snuggle together and make goo goo eyes at each other. The image would be shattered in exactly 55 minutes when the train stopped at Trevors stop and they would do that thing they always did of arguing that she should join him. That no one would see. That it was ok. But the argument would end the same way. Trevor would disembark and Adele would travel another four stops to the other side, the last stop before the train terminated, and walk herself to her parents place. She knew that he would let her one day. And it would be the best day of her life. She was in love, after all. And love was all that mattered. Trevor thought about the people in his neighbourhood. They were decent people for the most part but they would turn on him if he brought someone like her home. The train was the only place he could have this. If she pushed him again, he would have to find someone else.

Felix was a collector. He was obsessed with it. Taking photos of, and then riding in, trains. He had a large suitcase full of Polaroids, and other photos, of as many different trains as you could imagine. He lived for it. This train was not new to him, in fact he had ridden on it, and almost all of the others in this network, several times. But a social media post from someone else in the same hobby group as him had mentioned the new engines, specially made for these tracks in Germany, had arrived and were at the depot at the end of the line. They werent supposed to be commissioned until after the new year, a long six weeks away, but all five of them were already sitting, waiting. Felix relished the chance of being the first person to take photos of them and try to get inside. At his feet was a black backpack with everything he would need. His heart raced in his chest, but nerves were not a factor. This would make him a hero.

Carmen was on the last wagon. Behind her was the engine that the driver would come to to take the train the other way down the line. Currently it was empty and locked. She knew; she had checked. Right now she was digging in her bag for her tools that would fix this issue. As she pulled them out of the bag, she checked her watch. 52 minutes until the first stop in the new suburbs. To be generous, she gave herself 45 minutes to get the job done. She would leave at the first stop seven minutes later and get in the waiting car. Easy. She had done it a dozen times before. She stood to move back to the door that separated her wagon from the engine with her usual set of lockpicking tools in her hand.


This particular set of rail tracks had been installed nearly 100 years ago but it was only recently, that is, since the aforementioned suburb had been populated, that it was used for public transport. For the most part, it was a cargo line. Goods came in from the north and empty containers went back the other way.

Just outside the city was a large bridge that crossed a fast flowing river some distance below. This was colloquially known as The Gorge. It was deep and it had claimed many lives over the years. Once even a train was taken down into the water below; an older version of the bridge had suffered from neglect and that train was the unlucky one. For the motorists on the non-train bridge 100 meters further down The Gorge, the sight was terrifying yet incredible. According to witnesses, the sound the bridge made as it splintered and disintegrated was nothing compared to the sound of all those empty containers bouncing off the sheer rock walls and splashing into the river.

Tonight, the last train heading out of the city on this line approached the bridge at its regular speed, 80 kilometres per hour. The driver was experienced with these trains, he had been working for the company for a few years now, but he had only done this run a small handful of times, and never at night. The sky was dark with storm clouds and while it wasnt raining – yet – the wind was picking up and he knew that these trains were incredibly light. It would take nearly a full minute to cross the bridge and if the wind blew from the wrong direction while they were partway across, there would be nothing he could do. He eased up on the throttle slowly; no one onboard tonight would notice. He radioed back to operations control and asked for a weather check. He explained that the storm was picking up and he had to make sure The Gorge was fine to cross.


But the driver was wrong. Someone did notice. Two of the passengers, in fact. Both Felix and Carmen took notice immediately. The former was curious, but assumed this was normal. He had seen the weather warnings and assumed the driver was taking appropriate precautions.

Carmen, though, was struck with a deep paranoia. Could she have been made? Had the cameras in this wagon been fixed? Had her contact in the mechanics wing of the depot not actually been on her side? She had not seen the weather, not had any idea about the trains vulnerability on the bridge. At least, she thought, she would have more time to take care of business.


Trevor and Adele had stopped their inappropriate PDAs and had started their argument early. She had tried a different tact this time, trying to convince him to come back to her place. He, obviously, was not interested. Not only because her parents would be there, but because his cousin lived on the same street as her. There was no way he would ever be caught dead on that side of town, much less with her. He was starting to feel that anger at the pit of his stomach. It was the same feeling he had that ended his last relationship. The reason he couldnt see his own daughter anymore. He shouted at her that he wasnt going to her place. She wasnt coming to his. That she should stop asking because it was never going to happen.

Further down the wagon, Felix looked over at him, but the look on Trevors face made the other man quickly look away.


Gary was nearly asleep. The few drinks he had had while he was out had worn off and if he hadnt been close to sleep, he would need the bathroom desperately. Behind his flickering eyelids, he saw images of the woman who got on the same train as him. She was on the wagon ahead of him, but she wouldnt leave his imagination. She was dressed in a pair of yoga pants with some running shorts over the top and a thin wind breaker. She was not paying attention to him when he tried to get her attention and it was only after he had tried that he had seen the headphones. As he daydreamed, on the cusp of sleep, his imaginary version of Melinda stripped slowly for him. A smile crossed his face and he squirmed slightly in his chair.


Melinda actually was asleep. In her ears, the soft jazz had acted as a lullaby. Aided by a long day with many things acting on her, she was more tired than she realised and before the driver had slowed the train, she was softly snoring.


The driver had had word. It was fine to run the train along the bridge. The wind was coming in from behind him and not coming down The Gorge. The storm was still some way off and they would be well across before it hit. There was nothing to be worried about.


Carmen felt the train speed back up. She looked around at where the security cameras should be, hoping that they werent actually in there, as she had been promised. Doing what she could to push the paranoia from her mind, she sat before the door and manipulated her tools into the lock, working quickly to get through.

The door opened and she could only hear the wind of the train travelling at speed. It was cold out here and she held tight to the railings on the side of the door. One bad move and she would go. As she thought that, the train hit the bridge and started across The Gorge. Immediately the atmosphere changed. The temperature dropped and the wind picked up. She imagined she could feel The Gorge pulling at her and the train. Desperate for another victim.


She stepped out onto the small platform and closed the wagon door behind her. In front of her was the rear engine and her goal. She reached out with her foot to the platform opposite just as the train hit a slightly uneven section of the bridge. Her hand slipped and her screams were lost as she fell into the void below.