THE QUIET TRAIN by Brooke Attaway (Short story

THE QUIET TRAIN by BROOKE ATTAWAY

Xishuangbanna, 1874.

Adelaide Chen sipped lemon water from a crystalline glass, listening to the chatter of adults behind the shoji screen in the car. Thick foliage and bright flowers whizzed past the window faster than Adelaide could recognize them, drawing in and leaving pleasant smells in its wake. The train’s noisy movements were oddly soothing and rhythmic, and counting the amount of times the ‘bumps’ fluctuated from its pattern helped her to pass the time. Underneath the perfume of the foreign flowers, Adelaide could smell the familiar fishy scent of oysters being prepared for lunch. She had grown up in Great Britain with her mother, who was a well known and very rich investor. She had fought her way through the men and found her place on the top, and Adelaide was (unadmittedly) proud of her. Her father, a man her mother had met on a business trip, lived in China. He too was a small investor, but preferred using his fame to manipulate the government for the better of the country. No one knew (nor cared) where his money had come from, but he lived in a lavish house with a stream cleverly cutting through the center of the first floor. Every spring and fall she would spend a few weeks in China with her father, staying in touch with the culture and seeing if she still knew Cantonese proficiently (she practiced it more than her father would believe). Her parents were still married, just not in touch as much as other long distance relationships. A few letters were exchanged every month with a family trip every few years. Adelaide was an only child, thankfully, and appreciated her parents’ separation sometimes. She knew what having two (should be divorced) parents in the house meant for so many children in her school, and while she was certain her father would never think about raising a hand to her, she’d prefer not to be the outlet to the pressure of society.

A voice barely audible over the churn of the wheels called Adelaide's attention from her lemon water.

“The other guests are already in the dining car. Would you like to join them?” a young girl, perhaps a few years older than 15-year-old Adelaide, asked her. Adelaide stood, her legs sti from sitting too long, and dusted o her neatly patterned cheongsam. She nodded, “I would also like to inquire about our time of arrival? And will this same train be waiting for my return in three weeks time?” “This is the last train heading to this station until then, yes. This is a very rare trip we

make. ”

“And how much further?” Adelaide curled a strand of her short black hair with her

finger.

The woman thought for a moment, “Another few hours. You should be there by late

afternoon… tea time, you would say. ” Adelaide bowed to her, thanked her, and watched as she turned heel to head to the

dining car. Adelaide straightened the wrinkles in her clothes, something she had put on just a few hours before the train ride. It was something her mother had brought back from her last trip, but it was far too big the first time Adelaide had worn it. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as she expected for it to be, but it fit awkwardly on her body nonetheless. Her fathers tailors would take care of it for her, though, free of charge. Adelaide walked in the opposite direction of the dining car, feeling the train’s vibrations through her feet. She walked through car after car, the rooms empty with the exception of pristine luggage resting neatly on one another. The train's vibrations progressively became more aggressive as she walked down the aisles, the conductor’s car leading the train. She

would just go for a peek, the conductor knew her father after all. She imagined him humming songs as she neared, only to hear silence. She tilted her head, walking down the narrowing corridor to the door that led to the conductor's cabin. Things inside whistled and grumbled with eort, but nothing moved at the sound of her knocking. As she rapped her knuckle on the door, it creaked open, revealing no one inside. She raised her eyebrows. Trains could be left unattended, but not for long. "Mr. Huang?" Adelaide's voice was barely audible over the engine. She stepped through the doorway, looking around the corner to her left. A single stool sat, littered with various papers covered in markings and sketches. She turned to her right, and there he was.

Dead, blue in the face.

She made a strangled noise, frozen in fear. He had clearly had an allergic reaction to something, his body covered in hives and his neck was swollen severely. A platter of oysters had fallen to the floor, a delicate white sauce staining the floor. Adelaide gave a high pitched shriek, backtracking immediately, racing down the way she came. She did not hesitate to leave the train unattended -- there was nothing a 15 year old could do. Someone who knew the train better than her, or at least how to stop it, could take control while Adelaide could try to erase the dead man's face from her brain. She ran faster than she had ever run before, the clear aisles of people preventing her from tripping. She slammed into every door, knocked over luggages, and did not stop to look at the beautiful scenery outside the windows. As she crossed the second cabin from the dining car, she heard a loud 'bang' noise. She slowed to a stop, noting her racing breath and shaking hands. She felt the vibrations of the

train in her feet, feeling something being scraped inside of it. She turned around slowly, listening as something terrifyingly loud came closer and closer to her. Adelaide took a deep breath, feeling the train car shake with intensity. More scraping noises resounded, and Adelaide felt the car tilt. She ran towards the opposite window, her hands fumbling to move luggage out the way. The train cars ahead of her were, one by one, derailing themselves and plummeting into the jungle below from the elevated tracks. Adelaide tried to brace herself, looking for something to hold onto, but her car had already started to fall. She felt herself slam into the opposite side, luggage flying at her face. She felt a sense of weightlessness, before something heavy hit her head and left her

unconscious.

Chen Tai checked his pocket watch, waiting patiently at the station. Delays had been prevalent as of recently. He sipped pu erh tea by himself, watching families rejoice with every train that came in. He knew the workers were busy, but a small inquiry about time of arrival would not hurt.

He stood and hailed the nearest train attendant. A short, cheerful young man made his way over in a patterned gown that was much too big for him. "When will the afternoon train from Zhejiang arrive? It is nearly sunset. " Tai stared down at him, hoping to ward the attendant from saying anything unnecessarily cheerful. It did not work in the slightest, and the man said, "Our workers are doing their best, sir. We can only guarantee we will tell you updates as soon as we get them. In the meantime, can I get you some complimentary-

Tai held up a hand,

"I've already received complimentary tea. Twice. I just want to know if my daughter is safe and when she will get here. Inform me the moment you learn anything. " He left without another word, returning to his seat where he stared threateningly at the train tracks curving around the forest ahead of him.

The first thing Adelaide noticed was she was hanging upside down. The second thing she noticed was how her throat felt like she swallowed glass. Her head was throbbing so dramatically she couldn't do anything but hand upside down and let relieving tears leak out of her eyes. She could not move or process anything until it went away. Then again, she subconsciously thought, it would not go away until she moved. She blinked tears out of her eyes from upside down, looking at her surroundings. She was in some sort of slim building, hanging upside down from her ankle that was smushed between two chairs that had collapsed on one another. She was in the crushed train car, the metal folding in on itself and a nearby smashed window showed she was on the ground in

grassy terrain. She let out a pained noise, trying to twist her way out. Every movement sent tingles throughout her body, like painful needles were being consecutively poked through her every nerve. She hung upside down a moment, letting the sensation fade. What had happened? How had the train so quickly gotten out of control? Did the conductor not know he was allergic to oysters? Adelaide felt sick, thinking about the man's face. She took a few deep breaths, before looking back down (or back up?) at her ankle she was being suspended by.

"Aaaaah" Adelaide winced as she grabbed onto a chair leg, attempting to pull her

ankle out.

Minutes of wiggling, pausing, breathing, and pulling went by, before her red, swollen ankle was free. She lowered herself to the ground carefully, wincing at every muscle that flexed. She sat, breathing heavily, for what felt like hours. Her body tingled as blood rushed back to her legs, her headache clearing somewhat. She closed her eyes, listening to her heart pound. Noises of nature filled her ears as she calmed, the chirping of birds and strange bugs fading in and out. The air was humid but not terribly hot, and an unfamiliar sweet scent perfumed the air. The sun seemed to be just waking, the sky still smoky gray and thick with fog.

Adelaide scooted towards the broken window, wincing as something shifted in her ribs, but she had to get up. She had the advantage of daytime approaching -- she could find other survivors and check her surroundings. She experimentally crawled past broken glass, feeling muddy but soft ground as she weaved through the shards of the window. As she pulled herself out, her body threatened to give. The fall had definitely banged her up quite a bit -but nothing felt too broken. Adelaide laid on her back on the ground, watching the world spin around her. The gray sky swirled into view, mist floating through the air. The dew covered grass cooled Adelaide's bare neck and soaked her cheongsam, but the feeling was grounding. She counted to 60, and then 60 again. Two minutes she would allow herself to rest, then work was imperative. She slowly sat, feeling her water soaked back. “Eurgh, ” she muttered, wiping o the warm liquid from her neck. She experimentally sat on her knees, her head spinning lightly. Then, she crouched. Then, she stood. Her legs shook slightly with eort, her ankle bruised and cut.

She turned back around towards the train, walking as fast as her body would let her. All of the cars were slightly scattered, smashed brutally by the impact of the ground. Her car seemed to have hit a tree on the way down, thick, mossy branches were piled on top of it. “Is there anyone there?” Adelaide’s throat croaked out, the noise quieting a few chirping bugs as they listened. She repeated it once more, hearing nothing in response. Survivors were unlikely, it was a miracle she had survived.

The sun’s rays sprinkled through the mist, blinding Adelaide unexpectedly every few steps. She paced up and down the train cars, checking in smashed windows and torn out pieces of metal. Steam swirled into the mist o of the dewy tops of the train, dirt and shattered branches littering the scene. Adelaide thought of the girl she had talked to, probably a year or so older than her. Her heart sank, she had most of her life ahead of her, ripped away by a train crash. How did it derail? Adelaide pondered the question again. It was strange how quickly the train got out of control. The man’s face flashed in her mind once more, and she gave a small sigh. “Anyone?” Adelaide called out once more, before stopping all together. She had been on her own plenty of times. She was old enough to know how to care for herself, but she didn’t know how long it would be. Tall, mossy trees shrouded her vision through the forest, various bugs zipping through, unorganized. Her stomach rumbled, and she was happy to listen. She did not eat lunch, and she did not know how long she had been unconscious for. Food would be tucked away on the train, perhaps survivors would be left over as well.

She walked until she recognized the dining car, its windows smashed into the ground with no clear way of entry. The front had folded into a nearby tree, so the only entryway would have to be the door that typically connects between the cars. She stepped carefully, her simple shoes oering protection from mud and shattered glass. The door was ajar, dirt marks scoring the inside of it. Adelaide carefully stepped into it, the floor at a slight angle that threatened for her to slip onto glass shards. Inside, tables of white cloth had been thrown around, some sticking half out windows and some splintered halves were laying on the floor. Something sounded, a faint dripping noise, perhaps from a surviving bottle of wine. Adelaide made her way carefully to the back where she knew the kitchen and food was kept. The door was also open, swinging o its hinges and creaking gently. The floor was covered with dirt and varying leaves and branches. Ladles, pots, and unknown crumbs were strewn across the counters, and as Adelaide neared the back something smelled bitterly sour. Adelaide opened a compartment, and mounds of untouched and spoiled cheese were rotting. She nearly threw up, quickly slamming the lid down. She turned to another compartment. Handfuls of grapes and pears and other fruits were also moldy, and the same for the meats (she would not even think of how to describe how awful the sight was). Tins of crackers and nuts, used for snacking, were stored in a smaller compartment, and Adelaide hastily piled them all together. Cans of vegetables and questionable fish were also stacked on top of each other in the mound.

She munched on a handful of nuts as she walked through, her stomach quieting. The nuts were good, a mix of cashews and almonds, something that was never in the house because of her mother’s allergy. They were salty, however, and Adelaide’s mouth soon craved water. Adelaide knew for certain there was wine somewhere -- and wine was usually

accompanied by water. This would be in the dining car, hopefully not already drained or spilled. Adelaide backtracked, reentering the main dining area and following the noise of dripping. A table was awkwardly positioned on some compartments, flipped on its side with its tablecloth covering the handle. She leaned down and pulled away the tablecloth, letting out a shriek.

A woman’s body lay, crumpled and horribly misshapen. Her body twisted in ways it shouldn’t, dried blood and dirt mixing into a muddy brown, caking her body and face. Her face was impaled by a metal pole, going through one end of her head to the other, the face unrecognizable. Adelaide quickly put the tablecloth back down, turning around to vomit. She let out a cry, closing her eyes and trying to forget what she had just saw. The smell of blood wafted through the air, threatening to make her puke once more. She stood, shakily, stumbling back into the dining car where she grabbed her food, or as much of it as she could, tripping over herself and running out of the car. She cried as she ran, the shock of everything catching up to her. Who knew how long she’d have to be out here, with rotting corpses and unknown dangers in every tree. Adelaide slowed down, but kept walking until she reached the farthest car from the one with the dead woman. The sickening scent finally left her, replaced again by the jungle’s sweet perfume. She would have to return again to grab the food that was left behind, but she didn’t want to think about it. It would be there another day for her. She let out another sob as she realized, so would the woman.

The sleeping car was not on its side, fortunately, but part of it was bashed in. It would provide shelter from weather, but maybe not cold nights or animals. It would do.

Adelaide set the food down, sniing and thinking to herself. She had to get materials for a fire in the night, it would keep bugs and creatures away and keep her warm (not that she would need it, it barely dipped below 70 degrees in the evenings). It would be hot during the day, she would have to find a water source or she would quickly become dehydrated. The work would keep her busy, and pass the time. She took a minute to organize what she had on herself, before going out to find resources. Through the luggage on the train, she found two containers of water (she drank one greedily), a mostly decorative pocket knife, clothes, toiletries, and a very new lighter. It would work well with making fires, and last quite a while as well. Adelaide stored her new things back into the sleeping car, taking the knife and empty water container with her. She gave herself a moment to listen. The sun was creeping up, and sounds of birds and bugs were louder than ever in the woods. She experimentally held up her pocket knife, holding it out in front of her shakily. “Clean water and dry wood. ” She murmured to herself, repeating it once more as she stepped into the woods, as confidently as she could.

“Mr. Chen if you could please seat yourself so we could talk” . “Do not interrupt me! The train has yet to arrive and it has been a full day. I do not want accommodations or payment, I want my daughter. ” Tai snapped, slamming a fist on the table. The attendants looked at each other, nodding their heads. “We are sure your daughter is safe. Search patrols are already out. If they have not returned by dusk, we will accompany you to find her tonight. ”

Tai took a deep breath, taking a moment to glance between the two attendants. “You both are merely doing the job you were asked to do. If my daughter lives and leaves uninjured with nothing but a tale to tell, I am certain the way you handled the situation will be recognized. But if there is even one injury or death, I assure you, your punishments will extend much further than a job loss, ” he finished, his voice a harsh whisper by the end of his threat.

“W-we understand sir, ” the attendant on the left muttered.

“Leave me. And I will take more… complimentarytea. ” Tai remained focused on them

as they bustled out.

Adelaide nearly screamed again as a snake slithered by, ignoring her footsteps. She knew every living creature in this jungle would be wondering why a stranger was traversing through it, and she had no right to be there. She would, however, prefer to leave unbitten. She had found a river, clear and quickly running, and some dry wood from a splintered tree that had fallen onto a sunny rock. She formed a little sled from a big leaf that she ripped o of a nearby plant (infested with ants) and towed the wood on top of it. She was now trying to make her way back, following the flattened leaves and grass she had walked through. Adelaide counted the species of birds she had heard so far. Barbets, sunbirds, bulbuls, she had counted over 20. Their somber melodies cut through the croaking and grumbling of the other animals, setting Adelaide on edge from time to time.

She had also counted every step she made. Roughly 367 steps west to the spring, and 63 steps east to the sunny rock. The counting helped calm her ever increasing nervousness as she remembered everything that could swallow her in one bite. “Mmmmrrrr… ” something grumbled, stopping Adelaide in her counting. Turning, she saw the eyes of something glaring at her from behind two trees. A large, horrifyingly beautiful indochinese tiger stood, frozen, its tail gently twitching from side to side. Its orange and black pelt was clean of dirt and leaves, and its mouth was open very slightly. Its wide eyes locked on to hers, its muscles visibly tensed. Adelaide inhaled sharply, turning back around and refraining herself from sprinting as fast as she could. She felt her heart rate quicken and she quickly began thinking. Cats love to chase things, her father had one of his own. He chased anything that moved, pouncing on it and kicking at it with his hind legs. Running away would initiate the tiger’s hunting instincts, a typical predator-prey scenario, so walking away carefully and sizing herself would be her best chance.

She turned back around, the tiger still frozen in its place, curiously. She straightened her back, trying to seem as intimidating as possible, biting back panic as she slowly backed away. She prayed she didn’t trip on a root, or worse, a snake. It watched her without moving anything but its eyes, before sning the air and turning the other way, leaving her alone. Adelaide let out a strangled noise, her adrenaline skyrocketing as she spun back around, pulling her supplies behind her in a brisk walk as she neared the train car. Her legs quivered with nervousness. Tigers are nocturnal creatures, that was originally Adelaide’s biggest concern, but the fact that she had encountered one in the daylight was both a gift and a terrifying memory.

She wheezed with eort between her panic and the pulled weight behind her, dropping it the moment she neared where the train lay. She squeaked as she practically slammed into the door of her sleeping area, closing it behind her. She breathed heavily, looking out a cracked window. The tiger had not followed her, nor had anything else. She was safe, or so she hoped, but still felt her heart racing and head pounding. She took several deep breaths, pacing back and forth along the floor. “Thank you for leaving me to live, ” she sighed to no one in particular. Her stomach grumbled, the vomit from earlier completely emptying her stomach of anything to do. She would make a fire, then eat. A flat spot where the train had hit once before, right next to the elevated tracks, would be perfect. She hesitantly cracked open the door, listening to the forest. No tigers there, and a fire would certainly scare o anything else hungry enough to be curious. She felt her hands shaking as she opened the door, walking over as dignifiedly as possible to her wood stack and began choosing the lightest and smallest pieces. Her lighter was helpful, but she would never get a fire if she didn’t do it properly. She knew how to make a fire, she had lit the grand fireplace in her mother’s home plenty of times in the winter. She went to work, stopping periodically at every noise she heard. Cutting, lighting, adding, stoking. Before she knew it, dusk was nearing and smoke wafted through the air, giving o a comforting smell. She admired her work as a flame turned into a fire, the wood slowly being consumed by the tongues of heat. There was no threat of a forest fire, and it was far enough from the train that she could enjoy the outdoors and not fear she could encounter a dead body any minute. She sat on the ground, holding a kettle she had found and a broken teabag. She poured some of the spring water into the tin kettle, the water making a pleasant ‘sploosh’

sound. She would make herself tea, eat some food, and go to bed. She would leave the fire throughout the night, thinking the smoke signal would alert any search parties to her location. She hummed a Chinese tune about two tigers that ruled a forest, restarting every time she forgot the words. She counted the amount of times the tea bubbled, losing track and making up a number to only continue again. The gray sky became covered in clouds, allowing the rising moon to peek every so often. She watched the woodline as she finally poured her tea into the bottle she had put the spring water in, swirling it in her hand. “To my father, who I pray is not stressing too much about my wellbeing. ” Adelaide murmured to herself, taking a sip.

The search party had returned. They had fumbled over each other, oering their most pathetic excuses they could come up with Chen Tai would not hear any of it, and took the soonest opportunity to look for Adelaide he could.

He walked along the tracks, two policemen walking alongside him. Incoming trains had been canceled for the search -- multiple other complaints from families had surfaced that day so the hunt was imperative. Chen Tai was not a stressed man. His hair did not gray, he did not spend hours of the day worrying. But his daughter was the most important thing to him, and he did not know what he would do if she had disappeared… or worse. The policemen that accompanied him had not spoken a word. They knew Tai was a formidable man, one who could get them fired for as much as a “hello” . They followed silently, unknowingly marching in step while looking at the woods below.

Tai held up a hand, stopping. The jungle was quiet below them. Something was o, something was not supposed to be there. Tai looked below, something orange flickered in the trees. Something bright that illuminated some of the bushes surrounding it, almost unnoticeably. Tai did not hesitate to trample down a slope in his disheveled suit, his years of learning how to control his body in stress taking over as he made his way on the rainforest floor, running, pushing through towards the sight of fire. Someone sat by it, drinking tea, unaware of his existence. Her cheongsam was tattered and her short black hair had clearly not been properly brushed out in a while. “Adelaide?” he called out.

The girl turned towards the woods, frowning. She saw him, then, smiling, “Father. ”