Chapter 2: Carriage Seven

Claire stared at Adrian Keller, trying to decide whether he was a threat or her only chance of survival.

The train continued racing through the darkness outside while the empty carriage seemed frozen in time.

Every passenger had disappeared.

Every sound had vanished.

Only the constant rhythm of the wheels against the tracks remained.

Adrian kept his distance.

His posture was calm, but his eyes revealed tension.

The kind of tension that belonged to someone expecting danger at any moment.

Claire tightened her grip on her satchel.

Start talking.

Adrian glanced down the aisle before responding.

We don't have much time.

Then stop wasting it.

For a brief moment, a faint smile appeared on his face.

Good. You're exactly as stubborn as the reports described.

Claire's expression hardened.

What reports?

The smile disappeared.

The ones that convinced them you were a problem.

Them?

Adrian sighed.

I was hoping we could delay this conversation.

Clearly not.

Claire took a step closer.

Who are you?

Why am I still here?

Where did everyone go?

Adrian looked toward the window.

The passengers were taken.

Taken where?

I don't know.

That's not helpful.

It's the truth.

Claire studied him carefully.

He didn't appear to be lying.

If anything, he looked frustrated by his own lack of answers.

That frightened her even more.

A man with answers could be challenged.

A man without answers was unpredictable.

Adrian motioned toward the next carriage.

Come on.

Where are we going?

To find evidence.

Evidence of what?

Of what happened while you were asleep.

Neither trusted the other.

Yet neither had better options.

Claire followed him through the automatic door into Carriage Eight.

The emptiness continued.

Abandoned luggage rested beneath seats.

Open books remained on tray tables.

Half-finished drinks sat untouched.

It looked as though hundreds of people had simply vanished in the middle of ordinary activities.

The sight sent a chill through Claire's body.

One suitcase near the aisle had fallen open.

Clothes spilled onto the floor.

A passport rested beside them.

Claire picked it up.

Swiss citizen.

Male.

Forty-seven years old.

No sign of the owner.

No explanation.

Nothing.

This doesn't make sense.

Adrian nodded.

It never does.

Never?

This isn't the first train.

Claire stopped walking.

What?

Adrian turned toward her.

Three years ago, a train disappeared between Vienna and Prague.

Passengers vanished.

Authorities blamed technical failures and paperwork errors.

The investigation went nowhere.

A year later, another train experienced something similar in northern Italy.

Then another in Belgium.

Claire felt her stomach tighten.

Why haven't I heard about any of this?

Because someone made sure you didn't.

The answer arrived instantly.

As though Adrian had asked himself the same question hundreds of times.

They entered another carriage.

This one contained private compartments instead of rows of seats.

Most doors stood open.

The compartments were empty.

One door remained closed.

Adrian noticed it immediately.

So did Claire.

They exchanged a glance.

Slowly, Adrian approached.

The corridor suddenly felt smaller.

More dangerous.

The closed door seemed completely ordinary.

Yet something about it felt wrong.

Adrian placed a hand on the handle.

Ready?

Not even slightly.

Good enough.

He opened the door.

The compartment was empty.

At first.

Then Claire noticed the blood.

A dark stain covered part of the carpet.

Not fresh.

Not old.

Enough to make her pulse race.

Adrian crouched beside it.

Someone fought back.

Recently.

Claire examined the compartment.

A broken pair of glasses lay beneath one seat.

A torn ticket rested near the window.

Nothing else.

No body.

No victim.

Only evidence that something violent had happened.

A metallic sound echoed somewhere ahead.

Both immediately froze.

Did you hear that?

Adrian nodded.

Someone else is on the train.

Claire felt her throat tighten.

I thought everyone disappeared.

Apparently not.

The sound came again.

Closer this time.

Metal scraping against metal.

Heavy footsteps followed.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Who is that?

Adrian's expression darkened.

Possibly the reason everyone vanished.

The corridor lights flickered.

Once.

Twice.

Then stabilized.

Neither moved.

The footsteps continued approaching.

Claire could hear her own heartbeat.

Every instinct screamed at her to run.

Yet curiosity rooted her in place.

The footsteps stopped.

Silence returned.

Then a voice echoed through the carriage speakers.

Calm.

Distorted.

Almost mechanical.

Passenger Claire Moreau.

Claire felt cold.

The voice knew her name.

Passenger Adrian Keller.

The speaker crackled.

You were not supposed to remain conscious.

Neither spoke.

The voice continued.

Your cooperation would have simplified the process.

Claire looked at Adrian.

His face had gone pale.

That's impossible.

What?

They've never contacted survivors before.

Survivors?

The word hung in the air.

The speaker crackled again.

Please remain seated.

Collection will begin shortly.

Then silence.

Complete silence.

Claire slowly exhaled.

Collection?

Adrian shook his head.

I don't know.

For the first time since meeting him, Claire believed that statement completely.

The train entered a tunnel.

Darkness swallowed the windows.

The carriage lights dimmed.

Reflections stared back at them from the glass.

Then Claire noticed something.

A figure.

Standing at the far end of the corridor.

Watching them.

Tall.

Motionless.

Impossible to identify in the darkness.

Claire pointed.

Adrian turned.

The figure disappeared instantly.

The tunnel ended moments later.

Moonlight returned.

The corridor was empty.

No person.

No movement.

Nothing.

Claire swallowed hard.

Tell me we're not being hunted.

Adrian didn't answer immediately.

Which was answer enough.

Outside, snow-covered mountains appeared beneath the moonlight.

The train sped deeper into Switzerland.

Somewhere ahead lay Geneva.

Somewhere ahead lay answers.

But Claire was beginning to realize a terrifying truth.

The mystery wasn't waiting at the end of the journey.

The mystery was already aboard the train with them.