Page 6 - Time to move on

We walked through the final set of doors walking into the same scenery we had just left.  Picked our path through the bones and finally made it to the driver’s door I said a silent prayer to a god in which I did not know if it existed.  I turned the handle, it moved and the door opened.  I didn’t know how to work the panel or the phone but I tried any way.  Nothing worked all I received back was static. 

 

“What now?”  I looked at Isla despairingly

 

Isla looked at me .  I could tell right away what she felt, it was the same way I felt.  Lost.

What options did we have?  None really, we had to move forward to find others to seek out help.  Society needs society.  As much as we try to blow each other off this map we still seek out each other.

 

“If we have power why don’t we just drive?” Isla suggested

 

“Because it would be too easy.”  I blurted it out before even thinking

 

“Look,”  Isla stepped back and held up her hands “no need to be all snarky about it.”

 

“Sorry.”  I mumbled

 

“Look,”  Isla moved forward into the cab.  “Why don’t we try.  We can’t do anything worse than what has happened and if we go off the edge of the world.  Bullshit has happened and it’s time to take back the pieces and put them back together and solve what ever f*****g happened if that is possible.”

 

Hell if I had ever heard a “GO OUT THERE AND DIE IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS ARBITRARY” speech that was exactly how it would sound.  Die for a cause that can’t be proven is absolute… Vodka and tonic, vodka and raspberry, vodka, at one time I would die for vodka, kill for vodka.  Would I die or kill in the name of my survival?  Stop!!!  My brain was moving at Mach speed.

 

“F**k it” I muttered and began to play with all the controls hoping that I would fluke out and get the beast moving.  Success was mine as the piece of obsolete s**t lurched forward.  I looked over at Isla and she was cheering me on while, bracing for impact.  One station went by then another and another. 

 

“Warp Speed Scotty”  Sceamed Isla

 

Murphy’s Law - anything that can go wrong will - because after all everything is only arbitrary.  Isla was thrown across the train car as the anti-collision brakes kicked in and the train came to a screeching hiccup of a stop within inches of another train.

 

I looked down at Isla, she hadn’t moved.  I hope she wasn’t seriously injured or I would have to kill her.  I stroked the gun I had found.  Tempted.  Isla stirred. I helped her get up off the ground.  She brushed herself off, looked around and spoke:

 

“That was some f*****g ride,”   she laughed  “I should have you fired for drunk driving.”

 

“Good to see you are well.”  Somewhat disappointed. 

 

She looked at me as someone looks at you when they don’t quite get the punchline. “You alright?”

 

“Yeah,” I said nervously wondering what the hell was wrong with me “just a little shaken up.”

 

“Well now that we are at the point of leaving should we not collect supplies?”

 

“Isla you read my mind.”

 

We ventured back through the train and gathered any supplies we could find.  We found a couple of backpacks, food and clothing.  We didn’t take much, just what we could.  There would probably be another subway train in the same condition.  There would probably be another memory of death.  Who cares?  Who’s left to care?  Me?  I don’t know if that would be a burden that I would want to embrace.  What was up with wanting to kill Isla?

What if this was all some bad dream and I still am on the train sleeping with my head leaning on someone’s shoulder drooling

Author's Note

Anyone who has been reading this, could you drop me a line. Let me know if what I writing is good or crap I would really appreciate it. To my friends outside of this site, sorry this is way funner than Faceplant.