The cold had settled in like a second skin.
The train hadn't moved for nearly ten hours. The sun was down again, though no one was sure when it had risen in the first place. In the stale air of Car 8, the passengers were still too afraid to sleep.
Everyone could feel it now.
Something was wrong.Very wrong.
Not just because of the psycho coach.Not just because the zombies were out there.But because something was in here.
And no one could see it.
It started with the sound.
A scratch.
Soft. Barely noticeable. Coming from the base of the wall behind the last row of seats. Jordy heard it first. He tapped Malik, who rolled his eyes and told him he was imagining it.
But the next time it came, louder—scratch, drag, scratch—they all heard it.
Jason moved in fast, lifting the emergency flashlight, scanning the wall.
Nothing.
"It's a rat," someone muttered.
Ethan frowned. "No rat drags metal."
The scratching stopped.
Tension rippled across the car. People began checking their surroundings more frequently. They packed bags, tightened laces, and cleaned weapons. Even Mia noticed the shift.
"Daddy," she whispered to Ethan. "Why's everyone so quiet?"
He smiled, forced but warm. "They're just thinking, baby."
She tilted her head. "Are we still safe?"
Asher came up behind them and knelt. "Always. As long as we're together."
Mia reached out and touched both their hands. "If anything happens… will you still love me?"
That question nearly broke Ethan.
"Forever," he promised, kissing her head.
Later that night, it happened again.
But this time… louder.
Thud.
Scratch.
Drag.
Jason spun toward the noise. "It's inside the wall."
Asher stepped back, feeling the metal vibrate slightly under his hand. "We're not alone in here."
They decided to investigate at dawn.
When the sun began to rise, barely burning through the dirty windows, Jason and Ethan unscrewed a section of the panel.
The space behind the wall was meant for wiring.
But it wasn't empty.
Inside, lying motionless, was a human figure.
A girl. Pale. Gaunt. Eyes open wide—but unfocused.
Dead.
And tied to a pipe.
Mia screamed.
Jason cursed and fell back. "She's been here for days."
Sienna gagged and turned away. "Why? Who would do this?"
Jordy pointed to the wrist. "There's a tag."
They pulled it free. It was a hospital bracelet.
Project Dawn: Subject #17
Everyone stared.
"Project?" Malik said slowly. "What kind of project puts kids in train walls?"
Asher felt sick. "She wasn't supposed to be found."
Ethan shook his head. "She didn't die here. She was placed here."
Jason touched the wall with dread. "What kind of train is this?"
A silence spread, but not the peaceful kind.
The terrified kind.
Then the lights flickered. Once. Twice. Then—The P.A. system crackled.
No one had touched the control panel.
A deep, distorted voice came through.
"Containment breached. Car 9 compromised. Final protocol engaged."
Everyone froze.
Ethan stood. "What the hell was that?"
Jason moved fast. "Final protocol? What does that mean?"
Then—The door at the far end of the car began to lock itself.
Mechanical sounds. Clanks. Hisses.
Each door in the train sealed automatically.
The train wasn't just stalled.
It was turning into a trap.
They ran to the windows. Sienna tried to open the emergency hatch. No use.
Malik yelled, "We're locked in!"
"No," Jason muttered. "We're being quarantined."
Mia cried out, clinging to Asher, who immediately lifted her into his arms.
"I want to go home!" she sobbed.
Ethan shouted, "There has to be a manual override!"
Jason was already prying open the breaker box near the rear door. But inside wasn't electrical wiring. It was filled with blinking lights, a glowing scanner… and another tag.
This one said:
Protocol L7: High-Risk Experiment
Everyone backed away.
"What were they doing on this train?" Sienna gasped. "Was this some kind of mobile lab?!"
Jordy suddenly shouted, "LOOK!"
From the front window of the car, shapes appeared on the platform again.
Figures in white hazmat suits.
Three of them.
Carrying weapons.
"They found us," Jason said grimly.
"Good," Malik muttered. "Let them get us the hell out of here."
"No," Jason said. "Those aren't rescue. Look at what they're carrying."
They were holding flamethrowers.
Not stretchers.
Not medkits.
Flamethrowers.
Ethan pulled Asher to the side. "We need to hide Mia. Now."
Asher's face twisted. "What if they're here to kill survivors?"
"Then we make sure she's not found."
Casey, having been silent this entire time, finally stood. "I know where. The emergency compartment under the conductor's seat. It's metal-lined."
Jason stared. "How the hell do you know that?"
"I worked for the maintenance company," she replied. "Before all this."
They hurried toward the front car, dragging the bags behind them.
The train shook again.
The figures in suits reached Car 1.
And they began moving toward Car 2.
Inside the conductor's cabin, dust covered everything. Asher and Ethan opened the hatch and gently lowered Mia inside.
"You're going to stay very quiet, okay?" Ethan whispered.
"I'm scared," she said.
"So are we," Asher admitted. "But we'll come back. We promise."
"Can I draw here?"
Asher handed her crayons and a sketchbook from his bag. "Of course."
Ethan kissed her forehead. "If anything happens… know we love you."
"I love you too, Dad… Daddy."
The hatch closed.
Outside, the flamethrowers lit up Car 2.
Fire engulfed the hallway.
Smoke poured into the vents.
"RUN!" Jason shouted.
They sprinted back to Car 8, choking on the fumes.
But just before the hatch to the front car closed, Asher looked back…
And saw one of the hazmat soldiers turn.
Their helmet visor cracked.
And beneath it was Coach Ramirez's face.
Burnt. Smiling.
Still alive.
Or something like it.