Dead End

Each passenger stared out of his window in silence only grunting every once in a while. ‎The summer storm was getting louder, but nothing compared to the searing sound the ‎train made running on the eroded rails.  ‎



‎“Was that...!” She gasped and hugged her child closer to her chest. ‎



‎“They are driving us to a dead end!” A man shouted.‎



‎“It’s not in our hands,” another passenger stated. “Don’t risk what we have no. We are ‎secure for now. We have hours until we reach the end of the road. Things might solve ‎themselves by the time we get there.”‎



‎“Mommy, should we do something?” The nine year old Gamel, spoke, but was quickly ‎hushed by his mother. ‎



‎“We should stop being passive!”‎



‎“We should!” ‎



The passenger agreed, but their consensus was followed by a long pause. Each of them ‎gulped and ogled at the others with pending eyes. ‎



‎“You know; we won’t survive this until all of us decide to take action.”‎



‎“There are fifty of us and  just five of them!” ‎



‎“Yeah!”‎



Suddenly, they all froze. They stared at their feet, as they heard the thudding sounds of ‎footsteps. Soon, each passenger went back to staring out of the window. ‎



‎“We need a hero,” a woman whispered. ‎



‎“Gamel!” A woman stood up. “Where did my son go?!”‎



‎“We’re on a train. There is nowhere to go. Relax,” a lady huffed. “Kids these days...”‎



The mother fisted her hair mumbling and tearing up, as she searched the cargo. The child ‎wasn’t under any of the chairs, or behind any corner.‎



Passengers formed a small group to look around for him in the other cargos. They ‎searched up and down, left and right, but still. ‎



‎“What a pain?” Some passengers whined. “Being cramped together with fifty or so other ‎people while waiting to die wasn’t enough?!”‎



‎“He’s just a child! Stop being a-” A young lady bit back at the man.  ‎



‎“Lady, he’s either here somewhere, getting ready to die with the rest of us. Or he jumped ‎out of the train, in to the storm, and is already dead. It’s not a big difference.”‎



‎“You are despicable!” She waved her hand in his face.‎



‎“Am I any different than the rest of us? Is life so peachy?!”‎



‎“Just shut the-”‎



‎“Oh my God!” ‎



Some gasped, and some screamed as they watched the bloody child march into the room, ‎and collapse on the floor. The mother scuttled towards him, but hesitated before turning ‎him over.  ‎



‎“Please don’t be dead! Please don’t! Don’t!” She wept, biting her knuckle. She looked up ‎at the other passengers for any response, any help, but no one moved. ‎



So, she shook him. “Baby.”‎



‎“...”‎



‎“It’s mommy. C-can you hear me?”‎



‎“...”‎



‎“Oh my God!”‎



‎“M-may be he just lost consciousness,” a man stuttered. “Any doctors here?”‎



‎“He’s a doctor,” a woman pointed at her husband, who stepped back while glaring at her. ‎



‎“No,” he mimed to her.‎



‎“He’s dying,” she gritted her teeth. ‎



‎“Please!” The mother banged her fists against her thighs.‎



The doctor took a deep breath, walked towards the still body, and kneeled down. He ‎turned the child over, before whispering. “Gun shot, but he still has a pulse. I need ‎something to stop the bleeding.”‎



As the doctor tended to the child, whispers and rumors spread between the passengers. ‎Who would shoot a child? What kind of monster? They wondered, but they all knew the ‎train crew was responsible. ‎



Then they heard a whisper.‎



‎“I... just wanted to be a hero,” the child mumbled as blood gushed out of his wound. “I ‎wanted to do something.” ‎



His words took the air right of the room, and the words right out of the passengers’ lips. ‎A child took action, while they... did nothing. ‎



They stared at their feet once more, ashamed. They all avoided looking at the child, and ‎not just because he had just had his last breath. ‎



A young man stood up, “Are we still going to do nothing?”‎



‎“Sit down,” a man spoke.‎



‎“No, I’m not going to sit down! His blood stains all of our hands! If we had done ‎something... But a child- A child! Did what none of us had the guts to do. So, are we still ‎going to do nothing?!”‎



Right then, the door slid open. One of the crew walked inside, limping. “We are sorry this ‎had to happen, but the child threatened the safety-”‎



‎“How can a child threaten anyone’s safety-”‎



‎“Take it from me,” the crew member rubbed his nose. “He cut some very important wires. ‎Now, the train ventilation system is shut. Just pray, pray, we could fix it before you all ‎suffocate. Pray.”‎



‎“Stop the train right now!” The young man ordered the crew member. ‎



‎“You are not in charge of this train.”‎



‎“This is our destiny, and we want you to stop the train right now!” ‎



Voices got louder, everyone demanding. The crew member was starting to sweat, looking ‎at them like a man would look at a cockroach he was about to stomp. He pulled a gun out, ‎and took a random shot. ‎



A woman fell to the ground, holding her shoulder. Everyone froze. ‎



‎“Trash. Trash like you know one language only; fear. Now, everyone return to your ‎seats.”‎



No one knew who aimed the first blow at the crewman’s face. But not before long, ‎everyone was stomping him, digging nails into his flesh, or even biting him. ‎



Once he was in pieces, they mobs marched towards the conductors compartment, killing ‎every crew member they met along the way. They took exceptional care of the conductor, ‎enjoying their revenge. ‎



The passengers were free to take a hold of their destiny. ‎



A man smiled as the last of the bodies were disposed of. He tapped another passenger’s ‎shoulder before asking, “So who here can operate a train?” ‎



‎“...”‎







Word count: 979‎