Runaway Train

Act III - Scene 9

Let's get this one down right.

It'd been some time since they had made that pact. They'd left the day after, when BB had finished up Johnny's leg. A week or so of walking had passed since then, and in that time, they'd drawn closer and closer to the locomotive. Lillian was at the helm the whole way, walking in a dead silence particularly unsettling because it was her who was being so quiet. They all had been quiet, actually. The whole trek had a heavy air about it, but that heaviness pressed a connection between the passengers into being. It sealed their vow to get to the front no matter what. There was no going back now.

It would have been pretty hard to try retreat anyway; the closer they got to the locomotive, the more filled with demons, spirits, things the cars were. To turn tail, you'd have to run through all those yourself, and that was cars on cars worth of running, fending those creatures off all the while. "Be ready for a fight" was right. They'd managed to struggle through so far, though.

They did have to come to a brief stop, however, at the end of this particular car they found themselves in. As Lillian began to slide the door to the side, it quickly sprang out of her hand. It was like an overstuffed suitcase bursting open. Shadowy bodies popped through the crack, pushing it instantly wider. Limbs and claws scraped around each other and a thousand bright eyes flashed at them all. Ed ran forward and slammed the door shut again, holding it closed tight. "Well, that might be a problem," he said.

Lillian stood there, her chin lowering. "Yes, it might be," she murmured. "Perhaps you all should think of a plan." The way she spoke was slow, restrained, as if she was keeping herself from saying something. Johnny didn't like it at all.

Curtis was up to bat, though; "Alright, see here," he began. "How many cars do you figure are left, Lillian?"

"Three. All packed like this one. The Conductor doesn't like to make things easy."

The sailor drew in a breath. Even his spirit was wavering a little at the challenge. "Fine," he said, making his voice sound strong anyway. "Me and Ed will lead the charge, and—" A polite but noticeable cough made an interruption. Curtis turned and snapped, "What?"

Out from the group of passengers, Drake stepped forward. "Pardon my intrusion and contradiction," they said, "but you and Ed should not lead. BB should, with Louise and myself following. We will cleave a thin path that the rest can follow through. You and Ed would best be posted at the sides, with Orla and Nick as well, defending the others as they follow within."

Curtis' lip twisted. "Are you crazy?" he exclaimed.

"Well, I don't know about them, but I'm pretty crazy," BB cut in, cracking her knuckles. "I can do it."

"With all due respect, force alone will not propel us through this entire mob," Eden said, their chilly eyes trained on Curtis. "We must act together, and we must act according to our best abilities. This is how. I assure you, I wish to help to the utmost, and that is why I am finished with silence. So please, trust my strategic sensibilities; they are what I have survived on."

Curtis stood there for a moment, his whole character dark with weariness and what Johnny knew was a terribly deep fear. Trust. It's trust. Suddenly, though, their eyes met; Curtis' gaze flicked to Johnny's face, as if seeking shelter. Johnny's breath caught in his throat, but only for a moment. He knew what he needed to do. Ever so slightly, he gave him an encouraging nod. His eyes said to him, louder than any words, "let it all go; trust in them. It's alright." As the sailor searched his face his fears softened slowly, like melting ice. His eyes shut for just a moment, a breath escaping his nose.

Finally, he looked back at Drake. "Fine," he said at last. "We're all ears."

The plan made was simple, and it did work, give or take a few issues.