Passing through Christian and Pacifica’s fight with Vivy, Luke and the others reached the metal door that was a bridge to the first compartment and the second compartment of the train.

  The first compartment was more or less a video game layout with a bunch of crates scattered all around the cart. As for the second, that’s where the family treasure was stored. And for the third, the telling of the emergency brakes was told by none other than the conductor himself, meaning…

  (Luke’s thoughts) So we’re going to have to fight a lot of guards…

  Having both of his hands already gripping his uzis, he stood in front of the metallic door. The handle being grabbed by none other than Sean, the elf’s other hand wielded his Thompson, having the barrel of it pointed at the floor.

  Turning his head around, Luke took note of the others in the back of him. Jack, Hope, Luna, Benn, Miles; all five, or rather four of them, pinned the barrels of their guns down to the ground below. As all of them gave Luke a nod, Luke turned his attention to the elf, whose hand began to tighten the grip on the handle evermore.

  And at long last, Sean sprung the handle to life.

  Being the leader, Luke quickly glanced all around the room, with a hint of sweat lingering on the tip of his nose. His breath silent, his footsteps non-existent, he stopped as he inhaled the empty room that …

  Should’ve been filled with soldiers.

  (Luke’s thoughts) The conductor's intel was solid. So they really are waiting in the next train cart.

  Glancing in back of him, he nudged his head to let the others walk in, their barrels grazing every inch of the metal wall they laid eyes on. Keeping their footsteps as tranquil as the soup air from outside, their leather boots softly squeaked its exotic material, making every step a kiss on the floor.

  Lowering their weapons, Luke took in the undecorated room of the second train cart.

  Followed by the others, the sunlight seeping in through the small roof windows made the room seem dead. Not a breath of life escaped from the gray room, the only thing that stood out was a large vault in the center.

  (Luke) This is weird… keep your guard up.

  Continuing to glance his eyes everywhere, he reached the front of the huge locker, noticing a combination lock rather than a keypad.

  Putting his right gun back into his holster, he grabbed the combo lock with his curious fingers. Trailing the golden chrome, he squinted at the letters that were inscribed in the metal, hunching his head forward to read more.

  Letting go of the lock, Luke let the desolate sunshine onto his back, while looking toward his group.

  (Luke) This is the same company that made the locks on the van doors.

  (Jack) But that doesn’t mean that they’re going to use the same combination as ours.

  (Luke) No, but…

  Putting his left gun into his holster, he quickly walked in front of Hope, standing in front of her with both of his hands clutching together. Swiping away a strand of hair from his forehead, he scratched his cheek with his fingers, as a speck of dry skin latched out from his face.

  (Luke) Can I borrow your stethoscope, Hope?

  (Hope) S-Sure.

  A hint of red plastering onto her cheeks, she quickly jabbed her hand into her jacket. Her knuckles hitting an abundance of objects, she soon pulled out the stethoscope, giving it shyly to the timid Luke.

  Giving her a timid nod, he then walked up to Sean, extending his hand out.

  (Luke) Here. You can use this to find the combination on that lock.

  (Sean) Wait what…

  (Luke) You said you wanted to help us right? Today’s your day.

  Sean’s eyes widened, the corners of his eyes on the verge of streaming out unneeded water.

  Both of his hands trembling, his hands that gripped the stethoscope gripped it like his life depended on it. His lips curled into a small frown, and he swayed his head right and left, using his left sleeve to clam away the salted tears from inside his eyes.

  Clearing his throat, his eyes red, he harshly struggled to gulp down a hick of saliva.

  (Sean) G-Got it.

  (Luke) But here’s the deal. If you can’t open the lock before we turn on the emergency brakes, then we’re leaving no matter what. Got it?

  (Sean) Oh uh, consider it done.

  Taking out both of his uzis that were holstered on his hips, he began to walk toward the other train cart that was connected to the second and third. Just as he was within a couple of feet of the door, a burly hand clamped down on his shoulder.

  Feeling its fingers dig deep into his collarbone, Luke turned to look at the dark-complected man, as strands of his hair were nestled on his forehead.

  (Miles) Please, for the love of all holy, once we turn on the emergency breaks, we’re getting the fuck out of here. I mean it.

  (Luke) Don’t worry Miles. We’re—

  A reverb service bell pounded the innards of his soul.

  All of his hair spiked up like a cat, every ounce of his skin bumped up into a disease of goosebumps. His body separating from his mind, he wrapped his lean arms around the burly Miles. Lunging forward, he tackled him down to the floor.

  With both of their lungs eviscerating air, some of their saliva spat onto the dusted metal floor.

  (Miles) What the hell are you…?

  (Luke) Everyone, don’t look!

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Quickly taking out the uzi on his left holster, he pointed it at a dark shadow that didn’t let any natural sunlight seep into it. His eyes closed, his finger already on the trigger, he let it spray the air into the dark metal wall.

  Filling the air around them with the blazing hot lead.

  Clamping their ears down with their hands, they shut their eyes from the enclosed shooting that broke the glass windows. Their ears ringing, they all turned to look at the pale-faced Luke, their eyes barely opening up to see—

  (Betty) Damn doofus!

  Out of the dark shadow of where Luke shot, a wrinkled middle-aged woman let the rays from above sprinkle onto her face.

  Her arms and hands already extended, she put on a twitched-filled smile that jumped both corners of her lips, letting itself show her discolored teeth. Laced in yellowish saliva, it stuck to her teeth like gum, while her black heels tapped the metallic dusted floor below.

  Everyone turned their eyes away from her palms, only leaving her to tremble her tiny body.

  (Betty) You told everyone about my power huh?

  Quietly reaching the back of Luke, both of her cheeks pushed upward, letting her devilish smile reach up to her ears. Her breath reaching the kneeling down Luke, it smelled as if she replaced her toothpaste with nicotine and booze, with sugar on top.

  Angling the tip of her heel at a 90-degree angle, she tapped it twice before she pulled it back.

  (Betty) This is what you get for snitching!

  (Sean) Hey Gilf! Come at me!

  A ginger-haired elf had already aimed his barrel at the wrinkled woman. Both of his feet glued to the floor, his finger was already on the trigger while tucking the butt of the gun into his armpit.

  Setting her foot back down, she widened her eyes before trailing her hands towards the open-eyed elf. Her palms clearly being shown in front of him, the elf would soon…

  A small chuckle escaping from his lips, he raised his left hand to cover his mouth. His lungs produced more air to scrape against his throat, it only left Betty to gawk her mouth open.

  (Betty’s thoughts) Why isn’t he going blind!? Wait … can this be—

  Another figure, or rather the real one, plowed his shoulder straight into the wrinkled middle-aged woman. Pushing her back into the vault wall, both of her shoulder blades cracked against the metal, letting her mouth gape open with saliva spitting out. Streams of it rolled down her cheeks, some of it got onto Sean’s sleeve, the smell already scrunching up both of his nostrils.

  Slowly opening his eyes, he took note of her eyes barely able to keep themselves open.

  (Sean) You can open your eyes now, that dirty old hag is barely keeping herself together.

  (Luke) Got it.

  Everyone opening their eyes, Luke let himself go from Miles. Both of them rubbing the back of their heads, Luke looked over to the door handle leading to the third compartment yet again. But turning his head to the door leading to the first compartment, a chubby man barely kept his feet standing.

  Next to him, a short-haired woman wearing a flat cap and a thin brown jacket wrapped her left arm around his neck. Wielding a wooden Springfield rifle with her right hand, both of her slanted eyes pinned to the ginger-haired elf.

  (Sean) You’re that infamous female sniper for the Zirardges. Rimy right?

  (Rimy) Stupid elf. You hurt the boss’s wife.

  (Sean) Hey, she started it.

  Doug let his body collapse onto the doorway between the first and second train compartments. Both of his knees held all the weight on his body, and blood continued to compress out of his mouth, burning his esophagus with his putrid liquid.

  Rimy, the female sniper, turned Doug’s face towards her. His pupils barely able to take in the freckled face of his guard, his somewhat clean breath was replaced by the scent of iron and metal.

  (Rimy) Allow me to heal you.

  Using her left hand, she caressed his chin with her small frail fingers, letting her fingernails trail his blood-dried skin. Pulling his face close to hers, she licked her lips, letting her own saliva moisten her mouth.

  Opening her mouth wide, she stuck her tongue out; into Doug’s mouth.

  (The Dark Angels’s thoughts) Woah…

  Moving her tongue, she scurried every blood-filled tooth like a cat playing with the mouse it caught. Her saliva and his blood mixed along inside of his mouth, it intertwined and mixed until her tongue mingled with his. Deeper, farther, her tongue reached as far as it went. Reaching the upper half of his throat, she began to pull back, as a loud exhale of air plowed out from her reddened lips.

  A minuscule trail of saliva connected Doug and Rimy’s lips, causing her to lick them once more to gulp down whatever blood he had. As for Doug, the bullets that riddled his body soon dissipated like Sean’s clones. As no blood poured forth from his back.

  (Doug) Thank you, Rimy.

  Using her body to get himself up, he straightened his back while placing both of his boots close to one another. His breathing slowed, his heart thumping in his original constant motion, and both soles of his feet were frozen solid to the metallic floor of his own train.

  Glancing in back of him, the trench gun that he dropped earlier was still situated on the first cart. Seeing the fight between his daughter and the Pacithiests still commencing, a single exhale of air sowed out from his mouth.

  (Doug) What are you all waiting for? Think I would die that easily?

  Sean, Jack, Miles, and Benn placed themselves in front of Luke and the two women near him.

  The four men eyeing the two enemies, all four of them had their weapons wielded and loaded. Sean, who was the nearest to the vault, turned his head towards Luke, Luna, and Hope.

  (Sean) You three go on ahead. We could deal with these two.

  (Luke) Just please remember our deal.

  (Sean) Yeah yeah, you don’t have to tell me twice.

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  Miles and Jack placed themselves in front of Benn and Sean.

  Having dual-wielding, sawed-off shotguns in both of his hands, his eyes pinned onto the freshly standing Doug, looking from top to bottom at the lack of wounds he had previously. The grip of both guns creaking, he still laid his fingers to the sides of them.

  While Jack nonchalantly made eye contact with the female sniper, her eyes glaring at the well-groomed man.

  (Jack) Do you want to take on Doug?

  (Miles) Yeah. That old man blew the side of my shoulder off.

  (Jack) Sure. Guess I’ll be dealing with soft lips over there.

  Jack looked back to see Benn and Sean still standing near the vault, their eyes continuing to keep hold of the middle-aged woman. Pulling out the stethoscope with his left hand, Sean placed the Thompson into his jacket as he jabbed his attention onto the vault itself.

  Standing in front of the combination lock, he put two earpieces into his ears, while having the bell near the lock. Using his right hand, he began to turn the combination lock, his fingers coursing through the golden chrome that brittle his skin.

  As for Jack and Miles, both men continued to stand in between the vault and the doorway of the first compartment.

  Seeing that Doug continued to glance in the back of him, Miles took a step forward with his right, making a lunging position while keeping his eyes on him. Because of this, Doug scurried off, turning his body back so that he could be reunited with his trench gun.

  Like the drop of a pin, Miles pushed both of his feet off the ground, using the garnering momentum with his burly shoulder.

  (Rimy) I don’t think so!

  Loading the sniper bullet into the chamber, she steadied her aim, squinted her eye into the small scope of her gun, and—

  Another bullet ricocheted the air.

  This time, she lunged to the left to avoid the incoming bullet. Taking cover beneath a box of wooden crates, she knelt her head down, as all of her teeth clenched shut.

  (Rimy) You bastard … you’re the one that shot me a day and a half prior!

  (Jack) And what if I am?

  Slowly training his footsteps to the short-haired woman, Jack had his aim on the box of wooden crates. As the smoke plumed out from his rifle, Jack reloaded to let an old bullet out of the desolate chamber, hitting the ground and clinking the floor.

  The tips of his boots nestled themselves in front of the wooden crates, and a rustling noise came from the woman.

  (Jack) Now just get up and don’t try anything funny.

  Suddenly getting up, Jack swiftly moved his finger on the trigger, as the woman threw a bottle towards him.

  Lunging to the right, the right side of his arm that held the rifle bruised upon impact, causing him to hiss out in pain. Slightly clenching his eyes, he tried to push the trigger with his trembling finger, but…

  Tears streamed out from his eyes.

  Water streamed out from both corners of his eyelids, and even his nostrils kicked out mucus that wasn’t even there in his throat. His eyes turned red, his aim grew weary and desperate, with the barrel of his gun unable to pin itself onto the woman.

  (Jack’s thoughts) Damn it! What was it that she threw?

  His left hand free, he touched the collar of his black leather jacket, his fingers feeling a small trail of white powder. Unable to decipher the powder, he slowly stood up with both of his hands wielding his sniper. Pointing the barrel in front of him, to the right, to the left, and even in the back, his sniffling grew worse as both of his jaws formed saliva to stream out from his lips.

  (Rimy’s thoughts) And now for the best part.

  Luckily for him, his hearing was fine, and so was his blessing.

  Following the trail of thought that he heard, he pinned it back to the original location of where he last saw her. Aiming without aiming, he steadied both of his loose feet onto the metallic floor.

  While pushing the trigger with empty lungs.

  But two shots were heard.