The Tales of Gehiwian Circle

The Quiet Coach

It's not my fault, he thought, Damn guard.

Ignoring the carriage's side doors, Evan squared up the corridor connector doors in the coach gangway. He gripped the handle and tugged hard. After another try, the door slid open.

Finally!

Evan strode through, heaved the next door open and saw the dark interior of the next carriage. He tried the side doors, with no luck. He stormed on and went through the next corridor gangway, which was conveniently already open.

He did the same for the next coach, trying every door. Then the next, then the next. After seven coaches, he paused.

The train was never this long, he swore to himself.

Looking back out the window again, Evan blinked hard. It was the engine sheds, positioned exactly as he had seen them before.

Impossible. I can't be back in the first coach.

He went through the gangway at the end, and stopped midway through the next coach. He saw the engine sheds again, from the same angle.

Evan went back down two coaches and stopped midway again. He saw the same view o. Shaking his head, putting it down to tiredness, he hung his wool hat on the door handle of a compartment door. Then he walked back one more coach.

Evan froze midstep when he saw it. Hanging there, despite him leaving it one coach behind himself, was his wool hat, hanging on the door handle of the open compartment.

Seizing up, Evan caught his balance with a supporting hand on the wall. He recoiled, heart rate and breathing thundering up.

The corridor gangways were looping back into the same carriage.

Leaving his coat with the hat, Evan sprinted forward one carriage. His coat was already there, waiting for him.

Collapsing down onto the floor, Evan rubbed his eyes. It wasn't possible.

Crawling into the nearest compartment, he clambered up and hammered against the glass with his fists, yelling at the top of his lungs. Someone had to hear him, had to come to his aid.

His voice croaked, throat drying up. Evan folded himself down onto one of the seats. He cursed his stupid actions, borne of desperation. No one was going to be out this late. Checking his watch, his eyes bulged when he saw it had only been five minutes.

With the chill of the empty coach worsening, shivers zapped different areas of Evan's body. He put his coat and hat back on, but the cold ate straight through them.

Evan laid down, curled in a ball, on the carriage seat, and racked his brain for a way out. He tried the compartment light switches, but the darkness remained. The small electric heaters in the carriage were out of commission too.

Scanning the room for something, anything, Evan's desperate gaze fell upon the faint outline of the emergency cable. He gave it a pull, then pulled it harder, praying it did something. 

This qualifies as an emergency.

Nothing.

Evan closed his eyes as his teeth chattered. A light-headedness drifted over him, swift but silent, and he keeled over, collapsing into unconsciousness.

He awoke with a fright from what he swore was a dream, panting for air, quick exhalations puffing out clouds of mist.

Clambering to his feet, Evan stared around, hands so cold he couldn't feel them. Staring at the upturned compartment furniture, another unexplainable realisation hit him.