Last Train To Nowhere

Chapter 10: Full Fathom Five

I woke up again, it was one minute past five, and it was still dark outside. No luck then, as I’d been expecting, but I had to try it at least once. Unlike a dash through the police barricade, spending a single loop sleeping carried no risk, so it was a no brainer, given the potential reward. It didn’t pan out in the end, but the sleep was nice too. Moreover, I’d skipped forward in time another hour, and the train was still moving, which meant we wouldn’t have to replay the entire debacle at Edinburgh. There were a few ways I could have played the situation, but it seemed I’d lucked into the right one on the first try.

Getting out of bed, I took a quick look around and confirmed that this was indeed my new cabin, complete with a knife hilt sticking haphazardly out of my bag. I fixed that, putting it in a drawer again, because there were just too many ways for that to go wrong and injure someone. Hi, I’m someone, nice to meet you. Moving on, I noticed that despite supposedly resetting every time I lost consciousness, I was beginning to smell a bit ripe, so it was clearly time for a bit of self maintenance. As I brushed my teeth, tried not to cut myself shaving with an actual razor, and finished up with a shower, my mind was still at work, doing a mental tally of my new circumstances.

To sum things up, it was 5 AM, and we were officially past the halfway mark of our mammoth train journey. We were due to arrive at Fort William at 10AM sharp, delays notwithstanding, so there were only five hours left to unravel. I was in the back of the two remaining sleeper carriages, followed by the familiar Club Car, all of them being pulled along by a diesel locomotive at the front. A total of four cars, quite a reduction from the sixteen that had departed London Euston, what felt like a lifetime ago.

Notably, I could potentially access this unit now, since we were no longer blocked off by the completely separate and enclosed seated carriage. Idly, I wondered what had happened to them. More delays at the station, probably, followed by catching an early morning train for their remaining stops, most likely. Either way, I wished them the best of luck, but they were off my train and therefore no longer my problem. Putting them out of mind, I returned to the most likely solution to this mystery: the writings of the mad mage who caused the entire situation.

I’d stumbled upon him completely accidentally, while looking for stimulants to keep me awake for the whole journey. That was no longer an issue, since I was comfortably certain I could last a whole five hours, so that was what I settled on for my next attempt at freedom, the old steadfast: staying awake. I’d already watched most of the way through the Lord of the Rings, but recent revelations had sapped my love of fantasy, so I decided to change tack with a little bit of science fiction. The first title to pop up in my save folder was The Matrix, because fate apparently had a bad sense of humour. I didn’t want to think about themes of existential dread right then and there, so instead I chose a more modern title, one that I could switch my brain off and still enjoy. James Cameron’s Avatar it was, then.

Three mindlessly fun hours later, I had to conclude that Avatar wasn’t quite as good on a laptop screen as it had been in the cinema, but it was still enjoyable: the kind of action romp that didn’t need any deeper plotline to it than a modernised rehash of Pocahontas, but still managed to make it work. It was nearly eight in the morning now, and I was feeling a bit peckish, so it was time to head back to the Club Car and try out their breakfast menu for the first time. Naturally, I went for the most filling option on the menu: the Full Scottish Breakfast.

For those unfamiliar with this dish, it comes as a big heaping plate, featuring a whole day’s calories for an adult at the upper end. Two different sausages take pride of place: a big chunk of Lorne sausage, which comes as a rectangular block that somewhat resembles a meatloaf in appearance, alongside black pudding, a blood sausage made from beef suet, blood and oats. Accompanying these are two fried eggs, streaks of bacon, fried mushrooms and tattie scones, which are a wonderful flatbread made by mixing mashed potatoes with dough before frying.

All of this, washed down with tea served to personal preference - I prefer Earl Grey with milk, no sugar - this was the height of morning indulgence, pioneered during the Victorian era when more was certainly always better. Is any of this healthy? Absolutely not. But it is delicious, and I had far more important things to worry about right now, than my weight. I made sure to savour every bite, knowing that I had plenty of time on my hands as is. Usually, when pressed for time, I could have devoured the entire spread in half an hour, burning my tongue on overly hot tea for good measure. This time? I spent a leisurely hour at the table, even asking for a refill on my tea, and only left well after nine, when the stewards were already beginning to pack up their belongings, with the breakfast service officially over. Had it been busier, I might have been subtly encouraged to cut my stay short, but in all that time, the Club Car never had more than a handful of people sat down Unsurprising, perhaps, given that they were designed to cater for up to three full carriages, whereas I doubted we had even two filled up.

Heading back to my cabin after an excellent meal, I spent a bit of time answering the call of nature, and then it was already half past nine. In an ideal world, I’d be getting off the train very soon, arriving on a rather pleasant Scottish morning. I was less optimistic, however, so I parked myself down at my desk yet again, and stared out the window into the idyllic countryside, looking for any hint of the next unpleasant surprise. It didn’t take long from there, I might note, for the fog started rolling in.