The guard shoved me into the train like I was a criminal, his face twisted with fury.
"You know how many kids your age have died trying to pull that little stunt you just did?
Twelve. And let me tell you, it wasn't cute when their skulls cracked open and their guts
painted the tracks. Now move!" he barked.
His hand slammed into my back, sending me crashing to the floor. My jeans and leather jacket scraped against the dirty metal, the cuffs on my wrists biting into my skin. I tried to push
myself up, but the handcuffs made it nearly impossible.
He wasn't bluffing.
Without a doubt this man was ready to arrest me.
"Sir, please! There are people on top of the train!" I shouted, panicked. "I don't know what
they're doing, but I think they're trying to hijack it! I saw them right before you—"
"Shut the hell up!" he snapped, eyes flaring with disbelief.
"You think I'm an idiot? A train hijack? You must be on something if you think that's gonna get you out of trouble."
He scoffed and shook his head. "Nice try, kid. But you're spending the night in a cell. End of
story."
This was not how I pictured my day going.
I'd made it to work on time. Finished my shift early. Ross Quafmam—our miser of a
manager—bought us three large pizzas for lunch. That should've been my first red flag.
The man's so cheap he charges people for asking questions.
Then came the downfall.
Ten dery lost to Tomson after he scored Employee of the Month—for the twelfth time in a row. Jacky had a family emergency and begged me to cover for her. The boss piled on more hours because tomorrow was a public holiday.
And now I'm handcuffed on a train, accused of trespassing, and apparently the only person who noticed the shadowy figures trying to break into the train from the roof.
"Sit down," the guard snapped as he shoved me into a seat.
Across from me sat an old man. Grey suit. Black tie. A felt hat pulled low. He smoked a pipe and flipped through a newspaper like none of this concerned him.He didn't even glance up.Just turned a page.
"Sit tight, kid," the guard muttered. "Cops are meeting us in Viena. I'm not wasting my damn time dragging you to a station." Then he was gone, disappearing into the next car. And I was left alone—with the stranger.
[What did I get myself into...?]
A quiet voice cut through the silence.
"Kid."
I looked up. The old man had lowered his newspaper and was staring directly at me.
I saw him clearly now. Steel-blue eyes. Grey hair peeking from under his hat. A well trimmed mustache and a golden chain that hung from his vest pocket—probably a pocket watch.
He looked like someone who'd stepped out of another era.
"What did they look like?"
I blinked. "What?"
"The ones on the roof. What were they wearing?"
"I—I don't know. Couldn't see clearly. I think... dark clothes. Black, maybe. Why?"
He let out a long sigh, thick smoke curling from his pipe before he sealed it into a wooden compartment.
"So... they've found me already. That was quicker than I expected."
I stared at him, heart skipping.
"What do you mean... they've found you?"
"You know who they are?" I asked, voice rising with panic.
"Wait—you're with them, aren't you?! You're here to rob the train or something!"
He didn't flinch.Instead, he leaned in.
"Kid," he said, voice suddenly sharp, "do you want to live?"