Chapter 12: Roller Coaster

The Trustrail train was a rather comfortable ride. Within the first minute of settling into his seat, Grant began to wonder why he didn’t consider travelling by train more often. In addition to having far more leg room and personal space compared to a seat on an economy flight, the smell of the train’s interior was an improvement. Grant hated the smell of a plane. He didn’t know how to describe it other than nauseating. Everytime he flew with his family he brought a small stick of deodorant to give himself something more pleasant to smell. Storing luggage was far less of a hassle on the train as well. In addition to designated spaces at the front and back of each car there were the compartments above every seat.

Grant decided that trains were a superior form of travel compared to airplanes in terms of comfort. He looked forward to not having to struggle to nap with the engine of a plane grinding his ears. Trains did not have to deal with turbulence either which meant comfortable access to the restroom throughout the whole trip. Already Roruke was asleep across from him. Estelle and Franklin sat behind Grant. Each set of four seats has a small table in the center between the pairs of seats that faced each other.

“Thank you for riding Trustrail,” said a voice beside Grant. “Could I get you something to drink?”

Grant looked up at the pretty lady in the uniform of a train attendant. He noted the tight dress skirt and how it highlighted her slender figure. She had fine legs and her blonde hair looked terrific tied back in a bun. He decided she was one cute attendant.

“How about a Coke?” said Grant. “Been a rough night and could use something refreshing.”

“Coke it is,” said the attendant, smiling. She had a nice smile too. “Going to Vegas to take some time off?”

“No somewhere more rural with my friends,” said Grant. “I just want to get away from the noise of the city, you know what I mean?”

“That’s why I took this job actually,” she said. Her enthusiasm seemed genuine. “I love just looking out the window of a train.”

“I guess I can excuse that kind of distraction on the job.”

Grant’s remark visibly flustered her. “Oh, of course only breaks on long trips. Our priority is to ensure you are properly attended to sir.”

“Well the service looks just terrific tonight,” said Grant with his most compelling smile. He noticed her reactionary brushing of the hair.

“Enjoy your ride Mr. Foreman,” she said, stepping away. “I’ll be back with your drink.”

Grant kept smiling after her, hoping she would be tempted to look back.

“I wish I was as confident as you Grant,” said Franklin from behind him.

“You just gotta do,” said Grant, trying not to sound too amused. “There’s no study guide for people. It's like playing a piano. Practice makes perfect. Try talking up the other passengers. You learn a lot by listening to what others have to say.”

“Yeah maybe I’ll try that,” said Franklin. “Ah hell I get nervous just thinking about doing something like that. What if they don’t want to be approached.”

“Just laugh it off,” said Grant. “What are they going to do? Beat you up cause you distrubed them for ten seconds during a train ride? Not like they got much to do in the way of entertainment on this ride besides reading crumpled magazines in the seat pockets and looking out the window.”

The cute attendant returned with Grant’s drink. “Would you like me to pour it into a cup?”

“Sure,” said Grant. He glanced at her name badge quickly. Her name was Rachel.

Rachel placed a small plastic up before him and poured from a can until it was half full. While attempting to hand Grant a napkin she fumbled with her hands and dropped it.

“Oh shoot sorry,” said Rachel. She immediately bent down to pick up the napkin, giving Grant a clear view down her light blue dress shirt. “Let me get you a new one.”

“No that’s ok,” said Grant. “I can drink a soda without a napkin.”

Grant let himself take it easy on the train. The rural scenery through the window was a refreshing change of view from the city. Grant nearly forgot about the demon lady, the Grace of the Fountain, and the ordeal they had all been through. He wanted to fall asleep and let the train take him on a journey for the next few days.

Grant dozed on and off and time passed like a blur. He woke to the sound of Rachel the attendant speaking to him as well as the stink of his own drool.

“Mr. Foreman we are offering a late night supper at this time,” she said smiling. “Would you like anything?” She handed Grant a plastic menu.

“Uh, yeah I’ll have a loco moco,” said Grant, rubbing his eyes. “Hot thai tea to go with it.”

“Of course! I’ll be right back with your meal.”

Moving on from him, Rachel could be heard taking Estelle and Franklin’s orders. Grant eyed Rourke, who was still asleep. Rachel had probably been too intimidated to wake him. Checking his time on his phone, he noticed that three hours had passed since they boarded. The train would take and estimated nine hours to reach Las Vegas.

“I’m going to take a leak,” said Grant, getting up with a grunt and patting Franklin on the shoulder.

“Sounds good,” said Franklin. He was flipping through a magazine.

Grant slowly made his way to the lavatory. It was much more spacious than the one he typically saw on planes. Grant always feared being caught in turbulence while taking a dump. The train however was a smooth ride though it was still somewhat noisy in the lavatory.

A wave of stench hit him. The stench of human excrement. Grant wrinkled his nose and put on a face of absolute disgust. The garbage hatch had closed on a piece of toilet paper that was brown in a few areas. Grant grabbed some more toilet paper and used it as a glove as he forced the defiled item down the trash.

“Son of a bitch!” Grant swore, peering into the toilet bowl. While the previous user did flush there were still some bits left over from his deed. Grant tried to do his business while ignoring the sickening sight. The saving grace of the experience was the soothing warmth of the sink water and the lime scented soap provided.

As Grant stepped out of the lavatory after he had finished washing his hands and saw Rachel placing his food on the table in front of his seat. He motioned to her.

“What is it?” she asked, blinking in surprise.

“Yeah someone made a mess in the lavatory,” said Grant. “Just saying you should maybe have one of the crew look at it.”

“Ah,” said Rachel. “I’m sorry you had an unpleasant experience there. I’ll get someone to clean it up for sure. Let me know if there is any way we can make it up to you. In the meantime your meal is ready. Hopefully you enjoy that more than you did the lavatory.”

“Thanks Rachel,” said Grant, giving her a weary smile. “You’re a terrific attendant.”

Rachel blushed and hurried away with Grant looking after her. She had damn fine legs.

The loco moco looked delicious and appealing unlike what he had seen in the lavatory. Two generously thick beef patties and two fried eggs smothered in a rich, glistening gravy. All of this lay atop a bed of steaming white rice. For garnish the chef had sprinkled green onion.

Grant smirked at Rouke, who was still asleep. He didn’t know what he was missing.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Wow that smells good,” said Franklin from behind. “I wasn’t feeling that hungry so I got a chicken soup. Hopefully they didn’t just microwave something out of a can.”

Rachel returned to Grant’s car and served the plump caucasian woman across the aisle her soup. It looked like a bean and ground beef stew.

Grant started his supper and was pleased to find that his meal tasted as good as it looked. The beef patties were well seasoned and the sauce was divine. Shortly after Grant had begun to dig into the second patty, he heard a rapidly repeated thumping noise. The plump lady across from where he was sitting was spamming the service button. Rachel arrived in a flash.

“Yes ma’am?” Rachel asked sweetly.

“There is a woman’s hair in my food,” said the plump woman. Her furious tone made Grant stop eating and tense up.

“Oh,” said Rachel, sounding shocked. “I am so sorry. I’ll have a new one brought out.”

“It looks like your hair,” the plump lady continued. “That is disgusting, you know that? Disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

“I’m really sorry,” said Rachel. She sounded so stunned, so wounded. Grant noticed a few other passengers look over, clearly appalled by the passengers rude tone.

“Alright whatever just go get me a new one,” said the plump lady. “I hope the other passengers didn’t end up eating some of your hair.”

Grant shot up from his seat and gently took Rachel aside in his right arm. He brought a look of pure rage and disgust to bear down on the plump lady.

“Mr. Foreman?” said Rachel.

“You don't need to take this,” said Grant, looking down at her. “Let me handle this bitch.”

“Hey what the hell?” said the plump lady, her eyes going wide. “That attendant dropped a hair onto my meal. She is in the wrong.”

“Maybe,” said Grant, glaring back at her. “But does she look like the type of young lady to intentionally disrespect her customers' dining experience? She’s been polite and hospitable to every customer I’ve seen her serve. You make her look nasty with that tone of yours.

“Yeah that’s right,” said one customer.

“You're doing great Rachel,” another chimed in.

The additional support from the other customers seemed to make the plump lady nervous.

“Ok ok,” she said, her body language changing. “My turn to apologize. It’s just been a long week.”

“I understand,” said Rachel, smiling at her. “It happens. Let me go get you another soup. You can let me go now Mr. Foreman I think the situation has been successfully de-escalated. Thank you all!”

A few hands clapped, including Grant’s, Estelle’s, and Franklin’s.

After Rachel served the plump lady with another soup several minutes later, Grant followed her to the back of the car.

“Hey you doing better?” Grant asked.

“Yeah thanks,” said Rachel. “You didn’t have to do that. I have a hard head. I’ve heard worse.”

“You deserve better,” said Grant softly. “You're a wonderful person.”

“My job requires me to be,” she retorted.

“Does it also require you to be this beautiful?”

“Mr. Foreman…”

They moved into the small space reserved for luggage, kissing out of sight from the other passengers. Grant hiked up Rachel’s and felt the curve of her bottom in his hands as he moved up. The soft thin panties came down and Grant dragged his hands gently around to her front side, feeling through the tangle of hairs between her legend that tightened together. Through her lips he could feel her struggling to maintain control over the way her body reacted to the touch of his hands. As Grant began kissing his way down her neck her head tipped back.

He took his time unbuttoning her dress shirt and then thoroughly kissed the smooth skin between her breasts all while playfully touching her down below.

The sound of footsteps could be heard approaching and Grant quickly turned his back on Rachel, hiding her behind him and taking out his phone, pretending to be in the middle of a private call. He brought the phone up to his ear just as a tall and bored looking young man with slicked back black hair came to view and locked himself in the lavatory.

Grant blew out a sigh of relief and turned back to Rachel. “Some other time perhaps,” he said, grinning.

“Yeah,” said Rachel with a nod and buttoning up her shirt quickly. She was out of breath. “I-I can give you my number.”

The train rocked rather suddenly and Grant for a moment struggled to maintain balance. A noise like metal being broken in came from the back of the train. Grant backed out of the space he was in and peaked through the window into the car before his. It seemed others had noticed the commotion coming from the back and had got up to see what it was.

“Let me go check,” said Rachel, stepping into the aisle. “I will see you later!”

“No wait,” said Grant, holding her back. “It sounded almost like a truck or something hit one of the train cars.”

“All the more reason for me to--”

Screams were coming towards them and the train rocked again. A voice came through on Rachel’s radio.

“Good god it's fast!” someone on the other end of the channel was screaming. “Some kind of animal!”

“What is it?” Rachel asked, holding up the radio. “Talk to me everyone. What is happening?”

“Fucking run to the front of the train!” came a garbled scream. “Get--no--it’s a woman!”

“Ok time to go,” said Grant gesturing to the front of the car, realizing what had happened.

“Wait,” said Rachel, looking frightened and confused.

“No wait,” said Grant, trying to remain calm. “We need to get the passengers back. Shit, I was enjoying this ride too.”

As Rachel attended to the other passengers, Grant roused his companions.

“We got company,” said Grant to Rourke, who immediately drew his pistol.

“Oh no,” said Franklin, covering his head. “Oh Jesus she’s coming.”

“Well at least you’ve seem to have decided to end things with her,” said Estelle sarcastically. “Doesn’t seem like she’s over you yet though.”

A noise like an explosion made Grant jump. He could see people rushing into the car behind theirs. Whatever it was, it was coming closer and there was nowhere to run.

“We need to stop this train!” Grant yelled. “Everyone move forward!”

“Grant,” said Estelle, nudging him and handing over his MP5K submachine gun.

“Ok we make a stand until the train stops,” said Grant.

The train car lurched back and everyone was thrown off balance. A few passengers toppled to the ground.

“My god,” said Estelle, pointing to the front of the car.

“What is it now?” said Grant, looking to where she was pointing.

“They uncoupled us!” someone shrieked. “The shitheads!”

Grant’s thoughts went to Rachel. She was with the rest of the train that went on ahead. He was glad she was now safe though the same could not be said for them all.

“Well at least we are slowing down,” said Grant.

The lights went out and all the uncoupled cars were plunged into darkness. A few passengers quickly took out their phones to use as flashlights. The screams from the cars in the back grew louder and Grant could barely make out people struggling against something in the darkness. He felt himself seize with terror for a second when he caught a glance at the figure of the woman from the painting.

“Come on,” Grant muttered, looking out the window. The train car was still moving quite fast but seemed to be slowing quickly.

A ear piercing scream neatly brought Grant on his knees. The scream was followed by the side of metal being torn. A large gaping hole had torn in the car behind them. A body slammed into the door separating the cars, bending it towards them.

“What the fuck is that!” a woman screamed.

“Get back, get back!” Grant yelled. “Clear the way I got a gun!”

Everyone was quick to obey and Grant, alongside Roruke got into firing positions, taking cover behind some seats. The demonic woman slammed again and again into the doors, inflicting heavy damage with each attack.

“The guns won't stop her,” said Estelle, coming up beside Grant. “I got a little something for her. I took it off the truck we stole.”

Estelle showed Grant a grenade launcher with a thick barrel.

“Now hold on a minute,” said Grant, staring at the weapon.

The door was forced open and the sickly pale face of the demon woman came into view. Passengers behind Grant screamed. The woman struggled against the twisted metal of the door to crawl through the opening she had made.

“Do it,” said Rourke. “You saw how she shrugged off bullets when the police shot at her.”

The opening in the ruined door widened.

“Do it!” Grant yelled, and ducked down.

The launcher went off and one last explosion rocked the entire car. The passengers with them screamed even louder and Grant felt the entire car tip to the side. He held onto the table fasted to the floor between the seats as the car tumbled off the rails. Grant shut his eyes. He could hear luggage and people being thrown about. The car didn’t do much flipping and after a few seconds of skidding across the ground it came to a stop.

Grant opened his eyes. His shoulder was sore but he was otherwise unhurt. The train car had flipped onto its side. Several passengers lay against the windows, some which had shattered on impact. Rourke was helping Estelle stand.

“Franklin?” Grant called out.

“I’m ok!” came Franklin’s voice and Grant sighed in relief.

“Ok let’s get out of this thing.”

Twenty minutes after Estelle had derailed the car using the grenade launcher, Grant and the rest of the passengers had managed to climb out of the ruined car. The cars behind them had derailed as well. Flames from the explosions could be seen illuminating the wrecks. Grant was relieved to see no sign of the woman.

“You think that did it?” Estelle asked.

Grant shook his head. “I’m not going to dig around that to find out for sure. We better keep moving.”

“We are close to Los Angeles,” said Rourke, who was checking his phone. “One hour drive. We could hitch a ride.”

“We’d never make it,” said Franklin. “She caught up to the fucking train man! Oh God they're all dead! It was after me and now they are all dead!”

Grant seized the front of Franklin’s short and pulled him close. “Get a grip! If you're feeling guilty about this mess then you have a responsibility to help me end it. We gotta keep moving.”

Franklin wiped his nose and nodded. “Ok ok. You’re the boss.”

Grant gathered all the survivors, fourteen in total including himself. Some wanted to search for more passengers in the other cars but Grant decided against it.

“You all saw that monster,” said Grant. “There’s no fighting that thing. We make for the nearest road and catch a ride there. We’re close to Los Angeles. I’m heading there.”

It didn’t take long for them all to find the freeway. Grant thought the sight of fourteen battered people putting out a thumbs out by the freeway was silly looking. The first vehicle to stop for them was the driver of a SUV, a middle aged man and his wife.

“What is this?” he asked, stepping out of his vehicle. “What are you all doing out here at night? You all in some kind of accident. Don’t see no vehicle.”

Grant chuckled. “Let’s just say it’s been a hell of a night. We could all use a little help and transport.”

More and more vehicles stopped by to help, a sight that warmed Grant's heart. Highway patrol was called however Grant and his companions were already on their way to Los Angeles in the back of a minivan by the time they arrived.