One way ticket to Hell on a ghost train, unless British rail lay on a bus replacement service due to strikes. Part 1

Working extract from "Book Of Two" by Chris Norgate.

The main character has been dragged into the underworld to search for her sister. Her guide is a creature, that all she knows of it. As a guide its rough and driven and definitely not one for the casual tourist. It won't win much return trade on a London tour bus.

 

They fell out of the insubstantiality onto a hard wooden floor which vibrated as if in motion. The creature was first to its feet but only as it had fallen onto Imogen and momentarily sat on her face, Imogen kept her eyes tightly closed and hoped the warm soft weight that touched her cheek was something disgusting from wherever they had found themselves and not anything personally disgusting.

“It’s about time you found something to wear.” said Imogen standing and rocking with the slight sideways motions. She was in an open compartment with stacks of trunks piled up or on wooden shelving. It was dark but Imogen immediately recognised the old baggage car from historicals on TV. Now she could place her location she could hear the clickety clack of the train passing over the plates covering the joins in the rails.

The creature looked at her and flexed its developing muscles then casually reached out to its side and  smashed a fistdeep into a trunk only to be removed a moment later with a collarless shirt and brown trousers. A smile flashed across it's lips, Imogen didn’t know what was worse a smile formed of thin fatless lips or on the hard face there only hours ago. The creature was changing, that much was sure but was it for her or because of her? Or something more, something to do with how it's growing and developing or was it pure coincidence? Although the creature did not ask for it Imogen turned her back for privacy as it dressed.

“So where are we?” she asked looking at the back wall of the carriage where a door shook with the passage along the rails, there was it's twin on the other side after a Z of shelving.

“We are…”

“And don’t you tell me we are here one more time or you’ll be finding it hard to be in one place again.”

The creature gave a cough that could have been a laugh. “We are on the path needed to reach our destination.”

“We, you said we this time.” said Imogen turning around to face the thing. “So it's a we now then? You are coming with me not just under some kind of obligation but because you want to or need to?”

“I want what you need, we go together. We go this way,”

The was a knock at the door that was now behind them, the creature looked at it.

“We are not alone.”

“No we are on a train, an old one by the looks of this baggage car.” replied Imogen.

The door knocked again.

“Shall we open it, the guard might be locked out or the door stuck?”

“Where we are, where we go. Do you believe opening locked doors hold the path to travel?”

The moved to leave through the other door and if Imogen’s sense of movement was to be believed, towards the front of the train.

The knock became a thud as if whoever was making it knew of their imminent departure. It battered the door incessantly filling the baggage car with the reverberation of desperation. It made Imogen’s decision easier and she reached the opposite door thankful that it appeared unlocked and opened the door onto another door which marked the start of the next carriage. She hopped over the short bridge that hid the gap between the two cars as the concertinaed sides bounced with motion forming an unnerving living tunnel of bats wings.

Beyond the tri-panelled oak door lay a world of luxury and refinement. A corridor ran along the side with three separate compartments separated by carved panels and more red velvet than even the higher classes of bordello or London nightclub which could often be the same place.

Sat on bench seats on either side of the small room were suited gentlemen dressed for an office long since modernised. They were three abreast shoulder to shoulder and each of the six men were reading broadsheet newspapers holding them in front of themselves like paper shields to defend their own little empires from the machinations of the other travellers as if eye contact or a word of greeting or conversation were an invading force to be repelled at all costs.

Imogen walked past the first two compartments only peering through the gold rimmed glass window to see inside but by the third she was curious by the seemingly lack of variety. She did something that would make any English traveller cringe, she called out a hearty hello.

Nothing.

They walked to the end and there was another door similar to the one they can come through but with a perfect hand painted sign stating FIRST CLASS. Imogen opened the door and stepped across the threshold onto the rattling bridge between the carriages and into the next. It was identical to the last down to the neat rows of newspaper reading gents guarding themselves from company.

The creature was silent just walking behind like a small dog that managed to loom over Imogen in front.It gave her the odd feeling that it could run under her tripping her up as well as decend down upon her from over head.

“We’re on a train right? That means we’re heading somewhere from somewhere.” said Imogen stopping between two compartments. “Would you like to hazard a guess as to where?”

The creature looked on impassively and was going to answer but recognised the look on Imogen’s face and shrugged.

“I’m so glad you’re getting the idea. So where are we going? Or doesn’t Mr Know’it’all have any idea.”

“I know where we need to be, it is some considerable distance from where we currently are and this happens to be the most efficient way of reaching there.”

“Considerable distance? So we have a bit of time. So glad they aren’t running a bus replacement service.”

“This is Hell, not Southern Rail, even here they aren’t that evil.”

“Ah, but that doesn’t mean we have to wait out the whole journey standing up does it?” Imogen skipped off to find a seat in another carriage.

The next one was full 18 men sat reading papers filling each seat, as was the next and the next.

“How long is this train anyway and where’s the buffet car, I could murder a beer and a dried up cucumber sandwich.”

“Why would you seek to forcibly remove the essence from two soulless items?”

Imogen looked again at the creature, the flesh on it's face momentarily looked perplexed but it instantly recovered.

“Ah you seek mindless destruction from things smaller than you. I can sympathise.”

“No, I didn’t….” started Imogen but as the creature tilted its head and made another attempt at smiling she stopped and hit the thing playfully across it's chest. Were those muscle she felt under the shirt?

“Well you’d think one of these gentlemen would offer his seat to a lady in any case.” Imogen opened the closet compartment door and walked in. From the six inhabitants none moved, there wasn’t even a ruffled paper to show disapprovement of the intrusion.

“Anyone know where we’re going?” Imogen addressed the room. “Anyone? No? Well aren’t you all a bundle of fun.” She left and pushed past the creature. “Don’t say a thing.”

She stomped off into the next carriage and screamed.

There was the same collection of people sat shoulder to shoulder in their seats.

“Will one of you dried up old prunes look at me?” Imogen shouted. If she were expecting any reaction she would have been disappointed. It was like all those times she wanted to get her parents to pay her some attention and no matter what she dressed like or what state her boyfriends showed up in to collect her she was still invisible.

“Let’s just go, please.” Imogen withdrew from the compartment and walked to the end of the carriage. “Even if this thing goes on forever it must end up at a train or something eventually. Let’s find the driver and get off this thing. I assume it has a train and driver somewhere at the front or is this one of those Greek stories where the train will turnout to be one huge circle with the first carriage hooked up to the last like that snake thing that eats it's own tail.”

The walked on as the creature spoke. “A train needs it's head, this one like all others. If enough belief is put into something, enough love, enough sweat and tears and most of all enough blood then doesn’t it hold some of that essence? All manner of the engineers art can be found on this side of the door. Some of my kin revel in what they can do with just a little amount of heat in their furnace or explosive liquids in their tank. We adore them.”

“Are you telling me the devil has a toy train set?”

“No, he dances on the live rails and plays with the real thing.”

Then Imogen stopped there was a noise from ahead. A shuffling dragging noise which no good could be assigned to no matter how fast Imogen’s mind tried to locate a happy occurance of this type of sound ever being associated with.

She held up her hand but the creature had already stopped.

“Tickets please.” a voice said from behind the door.

“A ticket guard? Here?” asked Imogen with her ear to the door to get a better reception of any conversation from the other side. “Do you have a ticket?”

The creature shook its head and pulled inside out it's empty pockets.

“Then what’s likely to happen if we’re caught without one? Do they make you shovel the coal or something to pay your way?”