Chapter 004 - The Infinite Train 04
The next morning, I woke up to the kind of cold that gnawed at the bones. The kind that made it hard to tell if you were shivering from the chill or something worse.
And to the sound of shouting.
Car No. 5 housed sixteen people. More than half of them were elderly, women, or children—non-threats. Only one passenger stood out.
A giant of a man. Tall and thick-set, with broad shoulders and a belly like a sumo wrestler. He had his dark, greasy hair tied in a short topknot, which made him look even more imposing. His clothes were thin, just like the rest of us, but his sheer bulk probably gave him some resistance against the cold. He was dangerous—not just because of his size, but because of his expression. There was no hesitation in his eyes, no second-guessing, just hunger. Not for food, but for control.
He didn't target Elliot or me. Maybe he thought two grown men weren’t worth the trouble. Instead, he went for a young girl, small and rail-thin. She clutched a threadbare blanket around her shoulders as if it were her last defense against the world.
The man reached down, grabbed the blanket, and yanked it away. "Stupid bitch! Should’ve handed it over sooner."
The girl staggered backward, her frail body slamming into the glass table. Her forehead hit the edge with a dull thud, and crimson immediately bloomed across her pale skin. She didn’t cry out, just whimpered softly, curling into herself, arms wrapped tight around her knees.
I flexed my fingers, rubbing warmth back into them. The heating was really gone.
The wind howled outside, slipping through the cracks in the train like an invisible predator. Even wrapped in a duvet, I felt the sharp bite of cold against my skin.
Across from me, Elliot was already awake. He lounged on the seat, wrapped snugly in his own duvet, chin propped up in one hand, watching the scene unfold with vague amusement. When he noticed me stir, he smirked lazily. “Morning.”
I ignored him, pushing myself up with a sigh. It was impossible to go back to sleep now. Tossing off my blanket, I called out, “Hey, girl!”
She flinched as if expecting another blow. “I—I won’t make a sound! I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
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“I’m not scolding you.” I waved her over and tossed my duvet in her direction. “Wrap up in this. We’ll share warmth.”
Elliot raised an eyebrow but made room as the girl hesitated before hesitantly scooting closer, clutching the duvet around herself.
Testing the waters, I asked, “You here for the game too?”
She blinked at me, confused. “Game? What game?”
I frowned. “Your name?”
“One-three-seven,” she murmured hesitantly. “That’s what they call me. One-three-seven.”
Elliot and I exchanged a glance. We didn’t need words to understand each other—this was important. The other passengers had names. Real names. Even if they were assigned, they were names. But this girl… she was just a number. A variable.
Later, when she was in the bathroom, I muttered to Elliot, “We should prepare. Just in case.”
“For what?” He leaned against the window, staring at the white abyss beyond like he was basking in nonexistent sunlight.
“An alliance. Two people aren’t enough.” I kept my voice low. “There are still plenty of grown men onboard.”
Elliot hummed nonchalantly. “Not that many. This train has exactly three hundred forty-seven passengers. Only fifty-one of them are adult men. In our carriage, there are four—you, me, sumo guy, and that businessman with the briefcase. At night, the doors between carriages lock. We’re actually pretty safe.”
I smiled, sharp and humorless. “You sure about that?”
Elliot hesitated.
The next morning, I woke up to the smell of blood.
And to the sight of the second corpse I’d encountered since this nightmare began.
The sumo man was dead. A dinner knife was lodged deep in his throat, severing his windpipe and vocal cords. His right eye was gone—stabbed out, leaving a deep, oozing cavity. Blood had pooled beneath his bulk, staining the carpeted floor.
A steward stood nearby, entirely unfazed, whistling a soft tune as he dragged the body out onto the platform. Just another routine cleanup.
I exhaled through my nose.
And the blanket?
The one sumo had stolen?
Now draped over the shoulders of an old woman sitting calmly in the corner, sipping her tea.
Her fingers were still wet with blood.
She caught me staring, rolled her eyes, and scoffed.
Elliot let out a low whistle beside me. “Well, that’s one way to redistribute resources.”
I didn’t answer. I just pulled my duvet a little tighter around me.
This train was turning into a battlefield.
And it was only just beginning.