Endless Rails

A story in a post-apocalyptic world on a train. (also the underscores are where the names of people I haven't come up with yet.)

Prologue:

The great dynasty of humanity has fallen! Our fore father has beseeched upon us a curse that they have not seen coming. A terrifying thing is known on this planet that not even the science of mankind could produce,

Mother Nature.

Mankind did not care for the Earth and soon Mother Nature decided to turn against us. The clouds were lifted and dispersed, in came the harsh and unforgiving waves of the sun. Like the Hells of Satan have licked the Earth and wiped out nearly everything and everyone. Towns and Cities burned to the ground in vigorous flames. Wood, concrete, and steel burned, everything burned no matter how durable and tough. The Great Wall that divided the world collapse, the Great Reef dried, the Schultz Falls once known as the “Niagara Falls” became a desert. Walking in broad daylight is suicide, not even the darkest of shades can protect anyone from the heat. Going up to above 1000 degree Celsius, all plant and animal life diminish from the face of the Earth. But somehow, even when Mother Nature bore her fangs against us, our fore father held on to life, using the advantage of the Earth to survive. They built a magnificent train enough to accommodate the remains of the human race, it was known as the peak of human technology and engineering. Traveling 1040 mph exactly, going against the rotation of the earth and staying in the shade, we survived. The train was built with a blistering economy, the lower, middle and high class keep the economy running. It was our forefathers act of bravery that kept us alive, who knows when the train will stop? When it does we’ll know everything is okay and humanity can finally return home…

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Rail 1:  

Every child on the train knows the tale. We’ve all heard it so many times, we could recite from memory perfectly. The tale was told from birth until the end of our education, which was when turning 16.

My name is Chul Naozumi, age 15 and I live in the middle class. The train is separated into 3 sections, the lower, middle and high class excluding the engine. Though I hardly believe that this is a train since it can fit cities inside itself. We are also taught that this train moves at approximately 1000 mph, more than Mach 1. My parents were lucky to be born into the high class, but we choose to live with what the high-class call, the commoners. Besides I’d rather live here instead of living with the high-class snobs.

“Hey Chul! Hurry up before the final bell rings!” clamored a friend of mine.

“Alright, gimme a sec!” I replied, glancing at the clock town as I purchase a delicious smelling roll for breakfast. I slid into my seat just in time for the ear-piercing bell to ring. Sitting to my right is my right-hand man, Hendo Tristen, and behind me is my other friend, ____ Jumes. Lastly in front of me is Whitney Aston, one of the quietest yet smartest students. These are my closest and most trusted friends. However I do stand out the most in the class, if you were to walk into the class and scan the room of students quickly you would spot me 9 out of 10 times. It’s not because I have some sort of charismatic charm or anything, it’s my race. You see, my parents are foster parents, I was given to them since they couldn’t have kids. Since then they have been overprotective of me but at the same time, they are flexible, understanding that a teenager needs his space. People tell me that I am an “oriental”. A race that once had fierce intelligence and vast knowledge, which I’m pretty sure is a stereotype since I am nowhere close to the top of my class. However, the people in my town are used to the sight of me and don’t question it anymore.

Today’s class was on theories of how large this train is. Possibly speaking there are 10 or more small city sized carts on the train. Each city spanning up to about 3 miles or so. So theoretically the train is about 30 or more miles long. A mind boggling theory indeed.

“Wow, it’s shocking to think how the train itself could even move, excluding the fact that it’s also moving above Mach 1.” exclaimed Hendo.

Whitney shyly looks up from her desk and turns around to face us. “It’s not that shocking really, seems the engineering grandmaster was part of the project so getting math and calculations in was easy,”  replied Whitney. “The engineering grandmaster?” I asked, beckoning Whitney to answer to what seems to be a stupid question for her.

“Everyone knows, I thought you would too,” she glared at me,

“ They were the most brilliant engineers on the planet, rivaling nature. I’ve heard legends about one of them being an oriental, which makes it difficult to think you guys are the same race.” Noticing that this was an obvious insult towards me I meekly turned and sneered in a jokingly manner.

Whitney was smart, almost too smart for her age. If she was allowed to apply for a job right now, she would easily get a high ranking position. The teach was ranting on about theories, how it’s possible this isn't a train, or how we could have been brainwashed. He’s my favorite teacher out of all of the ones I have. At least I could have an interesting class discussion while learning. His name was Mr. Quesh, one of the favorites among the students. He might be the only reason why any of us would enjoy school besides that fact that we have friends there. After about a few minutes of rants the lunch bell rung.

“Alright class, lunch break! Be back in the classroom in 45 minutes!” Mr. Quesh told everyone. My friend Hendo jumped off his seat and turned around with an excited look on his face.

“Hey we should swing by the Charred Bay Bar and grab the specials, they might still have some!” Hendo said with excitement. Charred Bay Bar was an adult restaurant, hence the part of the name “Bar”. But we know the owner, by which we call him Chars. He makes this “special” dish that is massively popular in our town. Of course what the special is made of is secret, be he assures us that it’s perfectly safe. I would have doubt in that statement, but it’s good nonetheless. Hendo sprinted out of the classroom along with me and ___ following behind. Whitney stays back in the classroom since she always packs lunch. As we navigate the crowd, it seems like we weren’t going to get the last batch of the day, but we know the town like the back of our hands. Hendo suddenly slid from a staircase and jumped a fence, with us following him with a bit of trouble keeping up. Hendo is one of the most athletic guys in the school, But he is really one of the fittest guys I’ve ever known. As we round the corner, barely keeping up with Hendo, we catch a whiff of the amazing smell from the bar. Quickly, we rush to the back of the place to see Chars working the grill. He glanced over at us with a smile,

“Heya guys, how’s class so far?”

“Same old, same old.” answered _____.

“So do you still have a batch of the special?” asked Hendo who seems to be very fidgety.

“Oh, the special? Sorry kids, I sold the last batch to the construction workers over in the far streets, try to get here quicker next time.” apologized Chars.We walked away with heads down in disappointment.

“Well we could always grab lunch at that brunch place like we always do,” said Hendo nonchalantly. Both ____ and I nod our heads in agreement. Trudging through the backstreets of the town we noticed something was off. Everything was going okay, people were bustling in the street as usual, but it’s clearing out a bit too fast. We were about 50 feet from the shop when suddenly an alarm rang out. It was a loud clanking noise that echoes loudly, bouncing off all the walls. All of the people in the street panicked but cleared out into the nearest home to them. My friends and I were really confused, we were taught about the “alarm” but never experience it in our lives. We looked around confusingly when someone from a house grabbed us.

“What are you kids doing!? Get in here quickly and stay quiet.”

Confused at first, but then relieved, it was Mr. Quesh. He looked mildly concerned and drew the blinds shut. The atmosphere was tense as the teacher watched through the blinds. I have never heard the alarm before. In class, they talked about the alarm and the procedures that we have to go through. When the alarm sounds, head to the nearest house and hide. That was it, they didn’t tell us what to do or what would happen. All was okay for now until I realize something.

Whitney!

I thought, is she okay? Does she have a hiding space right now? I glanced over at ____ and Hendo as they had the same thought as me, with the same nervous filled face. Down the block, around the corner, came a clanking noise. It was metallic and sounds rusty as it got louder and louder. I dared myself to take a peek through the blinds, from what I see is a human. But it definitely was not normal, it looked almost, too unrealistic.

“That is a robot, like the one I taught you guys about.” Mr. Quesh said seeing our confused face. “They take orders from the top, and in charge of guarding the gates.” Between each class is a gate. It is grand and seems to stretch on forever upwards, it’s what keeps the other side out and our side in.

“That? Is the robot we learned about? I figured they would a lot more different than that.” whispered _____. The robots were eerie, it's red eyes were lifeless. It stared at the houses as if it could see through the walls. Its feet were large as a sizable plank of wood, the legs were easily as tall as an average human. The chest region was huge with a bright glowing mass of all kinds of color in the middle. I grimaced at the thought of getting crushed by the hands, which were bigger than a half a door. As the robot passed our house I can see that others were following the same path to the through the neighborhood. They were going to the gate of the poor, more commonly known as the  Poor Door.

After a few crippling minutes of silence, Mr. Quesh broke the quiet. “Alright guys, go back to the classroom, that was just an emergency. Take care kids!” He opened the door for us and we raced out towards the classroom.

The street starts to fill up once more as people gossip and share their thoughts about just what happened now. We passed by quickly as we picked up on what are saying.

“I heard that this was something about trouble up near the Poor Door!” said a man.

“Those robots aren’t from about area, rumors are that it came from the rich class!” said an elder.

“This has never happened before in this town!” exclaimed another.

We ignored them and continued quickly to the classroom. The closer we got to the classroom, the more we got the concern. The doorway painfully stretched and broken and the some of the floorboards collapsed under something heavy. Meaning that the robot has walked in the classroom.

“Crap,” Hendo cursed under his breath. “Is anyone in the main room?” We walked into the main class to see that no one was there. The desk was rearranged yet neatly left. No one was in sight until I remember something.

“The basement!” both ____ and I exclaim at the same time. All of us might be worried, but _____ seem to be in distress because of this, but remembering the basement helped him. We three have been friends for practically all of our lives, but _____ and Whitney has been closest since their parents were close friends. We covered the long corridor to the basement. It was creepily quiet down there, Hendo called down to see if anyone was there, no one. I was stressed, there was only one place left to look. As quickly as we can we rushed to Whitney’s desk to only see a sticky note there. On the sticky note was a few simple words.

Gate…..

Robots…

Taken….

Those three words might not be much, but the weight in the air was heavy. ____ succumb into a heap on the floor while Hendo sucked in a deep breath. I just eyed the wall ahead of me blankly, not knowing what to do. A sudden bang came behind us, forcing us to jerk back to the source.

“What happened here?! Did some raid come through here or something? It’s me or it’s the bottom of a jackcass that gotten here again.” Hendo relaxed for a sec, knowing that it was Mr. Quesh. He has a habit of cursing words that were slightly off of the actual words. Mr. Quesh stepped into the room that we were in a took a gander at each of us, reading the situation. His face tense with confusion.

“Now what’s going on here, I’m already confused at what happens to the front, so tell me.” ___ swallowed as he handed the note to Mr. Quesh. “H-here, Whitney left this note, I-I didn’t find anything else.” he stammered. Mr. Quesh looked like he was about to say something, but paused and placed the note down on the table.

“You kids go home, take this day off. Don’t do anything reckless, I’ll see if I can do something, I’ll contact you, here, my number,” said Mr. Quesh. He shooed us out and sent us back to our homes. ____ wandered for a few moments before walking down his street, he is really in a mess, I thought, never seeing him like this before. Hendo was nowhere to be seen when our teacher dismissed us. Now that everyone is gone, the only place I can go to his home.

I trudge down the main street where my house is located. A posh three story town house, not too fancy yet not too poor looking. As I am digging through my pocket I catch a whiff of my mum’s cooking. It smells splendid, almost taking off the dark mood that had set upon the day, yet it still remained. My mom heard me as I walked in, the jangle of the bells that are attached to the doors did so.

“Get up here, the food’s ready. Your father is still at work so we’re gonna eat a bit earlier than usual.” called my mom. I could tell that mom wasn’t exactly in the greatest mood either, perhaps it had to do something with the sirens. I walked up the stairs and sat down at the small wooden table. Today’s meal is seasoned chicken on a bed of sticky hot rice. As I began to tuck into my meal my mother had a serious look on her face.

“What happens today, considering that the siren that never rang out in years did today,” she asked. Straight to the point and blunt as always, I thought. I tried to act like not much happened, but I knew better than to do that. My mom could sense a lie from a mile away.

“Whitney is gone, I don’t know where she is. The classroom is in wreck an-”

“Whitney is what?” my mother interjected.

“ “S-she's gone, kidnapped probably,” I said weakly.

The color seems to drain from my mom’s face as she got up quickly and moved toward her room. At the same time, someone pounded the door. I jerked my heads towards the door as I heard a familiar knock. A simple knock followed by quick rapping, it was my father. I speedily got up and opened the door. He rushed in as soon as the door cracked and with a stressed expression said,

           “I heard what happen today, I believe I know where Whitney is.” Behind him was Whitney’s older sister. They’re both orphans but her sister is old enough to be a guardian. My mother quickly walked from her room and hushed at me, “Dinner is postponed, let's go.”

Author's Note

One of my earliest writings, thank you for reading and please critique it.