Then Came War Page 2

  TJ shook his head and stood up. “We’re picking up speed.”

  “Maybe we’re running late.”

  Another shake of his head and TJ looked at his watch.

  “Do you feel like we’re moving faster?” Lana asked Ben. “It feels like we just kicked into another gear.”

  Ben had his head back and popped open one eye. “I don’t think trains kick into another gear. There’s …” Suddenly he sat up. “We are.” He peered out the window.

  The automated voice over the speaker in the car announced, “Approaching the New-Conn tunnel.”

  “Wait a second,” Ben stirred more in his seat. “Why are we flying into the tunnel?”

  Harry’s back felt adhered to the seat and he didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to know the train was flying faster than it should have been. It didn’t happen the last time he went to town. Maybe it was a new thing or the train was running late.

  The rush of mumbling voices airing out concerns caught Harry’s attention and he looked around, trying to zoom in on what they said.

  Total strangers, who not ten minutes earlier were quiet and didn’t speak, were now all asking each other questions about the train’s speed.

  Something was wrong and a twitch hit Harry’s stomach with that thought. Aside from the speeding train, something else occurred that was odd.

  Everyone’s phone started ringing.

  The whole entire second car was filled with ringing cellular phones and people scurrying to find them and answer.

  Why was everyone getting a call at the same time?

  The voices of the passengers meshed together in their attempts to retrieve the calls.

  “Hello.”

  “Hello.”

  “Mom? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t hear you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I can’t hear. Our connection is bad.”

  “What happened?”

  “Hello.”

  Squeal.

  The darkness of the tunnel encompassed the train and the brakes hit so loudly the sound was piercing.

  The sudden attempt to stop the runaway train created a rush of screams as those standing flew forward. Items were tossed about, cell phones dropped to the floor and Harry found his face pinned to the seat in front of him.

  He couldn’t move back, he was smashed there by the force of the train.

  It was trying to stop, but it couldn’t. It was still traveling full speed ahead, but not for long.

  The train hit something and the force of the hit threw everyone into the air in different directions, tossing bodies about the compartment and causing even more screams and cries.

  Harry heard the sound of crunching metal. He caught himself long enough to look up and come to the realization that it was over for him.

  Car number two of the 141 jumped the track. It flew outward and smashed into the wall of the tunnel before landing on its side.

  Harry went from one portion of the train car to another. When the car hit the wall he flew backwards and when it slammed on its side to the ground, he landed back first on top of a person. Cringing in pain, he opened his eyes and then raised his arms to shield himself as people rained down upon him.

  The second car dislodged from the rest of the train and slid another hundred feet, creating sparks as the metal contacted the concrete at a high rate of speed.

  Finally car two stopped and rested against a wall.

  But it wasn’t over.

  The rest of the train kept coming, each car jumping track, some rolling front over end, others side over side with each sequential train car coming to a devastating halt and smashing into the tunnel walls.

  Train cars three and four rolled and landed length wise against the wall. The rest of the train cars piled up, barricading it in.

  The entire 141 was like a collapsed house of cards, the cars smashed together, lying on top of one another.

  That is, all of the cars with the exception of car two. The demolished and tossed train cars seemed to form a tepee and car two rested in the pocket of the wreckage. The only car not completely crushed.

  CHAPTER THREE

  There were some light dances of lights— sparks from broken wires, the flash of emergency lights that couldn’t stay on and the glow of the cell phones that weren’t beneath the mounds of people.

  There were moans, not a lot, and Abby heard them. She was fortunate enough to be on top of the mound of people instead of buried beneath them.

  She never lost consciousness. She may have lost her bearings when things happened so fast, but she was aware. She was so much aware that she clutched tightly to her seat. Her body flipped one way then another but she kept holding on until that final slam.

  She was lying face down and she needed to get up. She could feel wetness on her chest but with her body so numb, she didn’t know if it was her blood or something else.

  Using her hands as leverage, Abby lifted herself up some. Her mouth dropped open but she lost her breath. The scream she uttered was barely heard as she found herself face to face with the wide open eyes of another woman.

  Clearly the woman was dead.

  Panicking inside, Abby tried to lift herself from the woman. But she couldn’t get a footing.

  “Hello,” she called out. “Is anyone else alive?”

  “Yeah,” a man’s voice replied. “I’m stuck.”

  “I’m trying to …” Abby stopped.

  She heard it. At least she thought she did.

  It was a loud and distant boom that was followed by another and then one more.

  “What was that?” Abby asked, as if expecting someone to know.

  “What was what?” the man asked. “I’m really stuck.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Then Abby thought she had it; her foot found a place and she was able to lift herself to her knees. When she did, the flashing light brought it into focus.

  It was the little blue book bag.

  “Oh my God,” Abby gasped.

  The boy, the little boy that was on the train was carrying that bag. But where was he?

  She looked around. So much was unrecognizable; she couldn’t get her bearings on where she was in the train.

  “Little boy,” she called out. “Little boy.”

  No answer.

  Immediate panic consumed her. It wasn’t her child, yet she felt a mother’s pain over it. Her foot slipped some, but she was able to rest it upon something. Then she reached back, grabbing for a seat to hold on to. The train was on its side and as she pulled herself up she saw the people below her. They overlapped. Some moved; some didn’t. Everyone had just toppled together making it impossible for anyone to free themselves.

  “Dad,” a young voice called out. “Dad?”

  Abby gasped. It was the child. She knew in their car at least, there was only one child. But where was he? He was calling out for his father, but his voice wasn’t close.

  Where?

  The moment the train hit its breaks, Tyler’s father huddled over him, wrapping his arms around him. Tyler remembered burying his face in his father’s arms, holding on tight and his little fingers gripping his father’s shirt. But then they hit something and his father’s hold released.

  Tyler flew out of his father’s arms, across the train car. He was so tiny he hit no one. He was like a perfectly thrown basketball, sailing in the small space. Just before the train landed completely on its side, Tyler went seamlessly through the window.

  Swish.

  His hip hit the concrete first and, like the time he fell from his bike, his body skidded across the concrete and he rolled over and over. He could hear the train sliding against the concrete, the metal squealing loudly against the ground until it came to a stop.

  Tyler was hurt. He could feel it, but couldn’t think about. Once his body came to a stop he looked up to see the remaining train cars careening his way, reckless, out of control with the cars
flipping haphazardly.

  Scurrying to his knees and then to his feet, Tyler was running before he was completely standing.

  There really wasn’t anywhere to go, but he ran away from the certain impact that was headed toward him straight to train car number two. He slipped in a small space between the train car and the wall, brought his knees to his chest, covered his head and screamed.

  His screams were buried beneath the crashing sounds of the tumbling cars.

  How he escaped getting crushed was nothing shy of a miracle.

  But he did.

  Bleeding just a little from concrete rash burns that would radiate through him later, Tyler crawled out when everything stopped and grew silent.

  He had to find his father.

  “Okay, swell, I’m stuck,” Harry thought. He must have been knocked out because he had one doozie of a headache. He only hoped he hadn’t fractured his skull. His hands were free and he felt for his nose and then his ears. No fluid. Good sign. But then again, he was stuck.

  Leo’s gift was digging into his chest due to the weight of the man on top of it, dead weight.

  But had the gift not been there, Harry supposed he would have suffocated. Then again, Harry was a big man, tall, robust and strong too.

  How he survived he didn’t know. Again he attributed it to his size. Of course, with his luck, at his age he probably had broken a hip and when the pressure of the bodies lifted he would be unable to move. Stuck in the wreckage, he would be one of those people emergency workers carried out on a stretcher.

  But Harry wouldn’t scream. No way. No how.

  That wasn’t him.

  He took a second, took a deep breath and thought about his situation.

  Peering left then right around the dead body on top of him, Harry assessed he was about six people deep.

  Again, thinking, ‘swell,’ Harry looked for head room. He wasn’t packed like a sardine and that was a good thing. The car was on its side, but not completely. It was angled. If he could just slip out from the bodies, slide his back up against the wall, which was actually the floor, he could conceivably climb up. That was if his hip wasn’t broken.

  He wanted to call out to those on top of him, he swore he saw one of them move. But he feared doing that would cause the perfect pyramid to collapse and crush him.

  He just needed leverage.

  What could he use for leverage?

  The gift, Leo’s gift, was a strong box made of heavy metal. It already protected Harry once. It was possible it could save him again.

  Harry wiggled his toes, twitched his legs and checked any and all body parts he would need to get out. They all seemed to be working rather painlessly and it was time to make the attempt.

  Using all his strength, Harry gripped the box and inched to the right. It was a struggle, but he moved. Or at least he thought he moved.

  He took a moment, got another breath, held the box and inched some more, this time backwards.

  By God, Harry thought, it is going to work. It would take some time, but he’d get there.

  “Dad?”

  Abby’s head jolted quickly to the close sound of the boy’s voice. She saw him. He was peeking in the open door at the other end of the train.

  “Dad?”

  “Stop,” Abby called to him, holding out her hand. “Don’t come in here.”

  “I need to find my Dad,” Tyler said.

  “We will. Are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Okay, then just …. Stay there. We’ll find him.”

  Tyler nodded.

  Abby was relieved, she lowered her head and released a single sob.

  “Can you help me?” the voice, the same voice, the man who was stuck, called to her again. “I’m really stuck. This guy on top of me is huge.”

  “Recite the alphabet,” Abby said.

  “Is this a test?”

  “No, I need to find you.”

  He did.

  To the left, his voice came from the left. Abby scooted over some. Where? Where was he?

  By the time he got to the letter ‘W’, Abby had pinpointed the voice.

  “Can you move anything?” Abby asked. “I know you’re here somewhere.”

  “No. I’m pinned in.”

  Abby looked around her. She was perched on the arm of a seat and when she looked down she saw the cell phone. Grabbing it, she played with the phone until it lit up enough for her to use it as a guide.

  “Call out again.”

  “Hello.”

  Found.

  The light cast a small hue on the almond colored face. His eyes blinked. It was reminiscent of the scene from the movie ET.

  “You found me,” he said.

  Abby noticed he was young. “I did.”

  “When you were calling for the little boy, I thought you meant me.”

  “You’re not that young.” Abby touched the dead body on top of him.

  “No. But I’m too young to die. Can you get me out of here?”

  “I’ll try,” Abby said. “Ok, let me think for a second.”

  “What about if I push and you pull this guy,” he suggested.

  “Then what?” Abby asked.

  “Can we roll him out of the way?” he asked.

  “We can try. Okay.” Abby took another breath. It was going to be difficult but she wasn’t a small woman. While her height was average, she always was a big boned gal and her body had held the extra weight from the baby, but she wasn’t anywhere as nimble as she wanted to be. But Abby was strong, she knew that.

  Positioning herself belly down on the seat, Abby scooted up enough to get a good grip on the man’s body. “I’ll pull outward, you push and hopefully the momentum will move him. We start on the count of three. One, two …”

  “Wait.” Another voice entered the equation.

  They stopped.

  The voice was close. Abby grabbed the cell phone again and used it as a light. Down at the bottom of the pile was a man, an older man.

  It was Harry.

  He was nearly free. He was still pinned from the waist down, but he had managed to get out some and was in a semi sitting position. “Just be careful. I don’t want all my hard work trying to free myself to be for naught,” he said.

  “Are you hurt?” Abby asked.

  “I ache,” Harry answered. “Then again at my age everything is gonna hurt.”

  “We’ll be careful.” Abby nodded at Harry, put down the phone, grabbed the body of the man and made eye contact with the teenage boy. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded.

  Abby counted. “One, two …three.”

  It didn’t work.

  They tried again.

  The third time the rush of adrenaline aided in the task and Abby freed the man. Only problem was the force of the pull and push caused him to knock her back. She banged her shoulder on the other seat and the man’s lifeless arm flailed her in the face.

  Abby would have fallen more had she not been quick enough to grab on to the seat.

  “Here,” the young man crawled over the seat and aided her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  He looked down at the three people below her; they all appeared dead. “We need to help the other guy and get off this train.” He extended his hand to her.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” Abby took his hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Foster.”

  “Thank you, Foster.” Just as Abby stood, both her and Foster looked toward the shuffle bodies and the grunting sounds.

  “I’m out,” Harry called. “Lifting that extra weight helped. Thank...” Harry stopped. He had inched out, used the wall as leverage and brought himself to a standing position. He was speaking as he climbed the mound of five bodies. He stopped speaking when he got a good look at all that transpired.

  Below the bodies all he saw were people, darkness and blood. Once above it he saw the true devastation.

  And all that
Harry could muster was a gasping, “Oh my God.”

  He was all the way at the other end of the train car and Ben could see people getting out. At least six people rose from the mounds and made their way from the wreckage. But Ben couldn’t go. Not yet. He could still hear moans and he prayed one of them was his wife.

  Granted the last couple years of their marriage were rough. He couldn’t wait to get away from her controlling bitchy ways. But after decades of marriage, he still loved her and having her die at the bottom of a heap following a train wreck was not how he saw their marriage ending.

  She was somewhere. She had to be. There were only about forty people in that particular car. She couldn’t be far from where he landed. There weren’t many bodies there.

  But what was there was horrendous.

  Crushed skulls, twisted bodies broken in more places than one could count. It was dark, too dark. The strobe effect of the emergency lights made it harder to see and eerie.

  Then he spotted it. Hours earlier it was a major irritation and now it was a salvation. It was that hideous nail polish on those perfect nails.

  And the nails weren’t broke.

  It had to be Lana.

  She was completely covered by a body except for her hand that extended out.

  But Lana didn’t move.

  Calling out, “Lana,” Ben dropped to his knees and grabbed her hand. It was limp, but warm and it only took a second for her fingers to grasp his.

  “Oh, my God, you’re alive. I’ll get you out of here. I’ll get you out.”

  Where to move the bodies?

  There were two bodies that buried her and Ben moved them like a man on a mission. He moved them as best as he could, uncovering Lana, whose legs were still under someone.

  She gasped, catching her breath and then coughed.

  Ben sighed in relief and then reached for her, slipping his hand under her head. Her face was dirty and there was blood on it, although he didn’t know where it all came from. He was certain that the gash on her head supplied some of it. It was deep. “I’ll get you out.” He prepared to move her.

  Lana then did something Ben couldn’t recall seeing her do in over ten years.