Tunnels
Madeleine sat in a four-seat section in the back of the subway, handbag on her lap.
Ten more stops.
She stared out the window, but all she could see was her own ghostly reflection.
If the new intern hadn’t screwed up the appointment with the photographer, she would be home by now.
One by one, the other passengers around her got off at their stops. Madeleine leaned her head against the cold window, too tired to care how dirty it was.
The faster the car rattled through the tunnels, the heavier Madeleine’s eyelids became until they closed shut.
A loud thud woke her up.
She opened her eyes and stared into the gaunt face of a stranger.
Madeleine smiled shyly. The man’s face remained a mask.
He leaned forward and picked up Madeleine’s bag off the floor. Scraggy fingers handed it to her. She was careful not to touch them.
She mustered up a subtle nod.
Her first instinct was to check if anything was missing from inside the bag, and although her body screamed at her to get up and leave, to bring as much distance as possible between herself and this shabby-looking man, she couldn’t move.
Don’t show any sign of fear, she thought. He’ll smell it like a dog smells a bitch in heat.
Madeleine brushed her damp bangs out of her eyes.
“You should’ve alighted at the previous stop.” His voice was a rich baritone.
She swallowed down the lump in her throat.
“You don’t scare me.” Her heart thumped so loud, she was sure he could hear it.
“Good.”
What was that supposed to mean?
With trembling knees, Madeleine made her way to the doors. The train hadn’t stopped since she woke up. Had she missed her stop? It didn’t matter, as long as she could get out of there at the next station.
“The train won’t stop,” the man said.
Madeleine stiffened.
“You might as well keep me company until they arrive. After all, they’re yours.”
“Who’s they?” Madeleine’s voice shook as much as her hands.
The stranger didn’t answer. Instead, he patted the seat she occupied two minutes ago.
She didn’t move.
The door between the cars opened and two figures entered.
With their hollowed eyes and cadaverous bodies, they looked hardly human, yet so familiar.
Tears ran down her face.
“You care to live? You fight them,” the man said.
Madeleine lunged forward, handbag swinging. She shrieked and kicked.
The lights flickered. At any moment, they’d go out and she’d be trapped in darkness.
They didn’t. Instead, they turned brighter than a thousand suns. They burned as hot too. Her entire body was on fire. Someone screamed in pain.
The subway was gone, but the screams continued. Her gaze flitted around the room, down to the light hospital gown covering her frailness.
She remembered the needle in the crook of her elbow. The moment it shot its sweet poison through her veins, like a train rushing through the tunnels.
