I glance down at my gas dial on the dashboard of my car, and it's about empty. I'm currently driving through the Rocky Mountains for a family reunion, which is being held at my mother's house. Unfortunately that means having to go through the mountains due to the fact my mother lived in the middle of nowhere. The yellow light was on, telling me that I was about to run out of fuel. There was no gas station in sight, and pretty soon, my car slowed to a stop, and the engine shut off.

I got out my cell phone and tried to call for help, but honestly, I would have been damned if there was phone service up in the mountains. Nevertheless, I was out of luck, and it looks like I would have to walk. I got out of my car and started down the road. The cold was unforgiving, and I was starting to think of turning back, but I pressed on. Sooner or later I would come across a gas station or a rest stop or something of the like. But no, instead, I found a train station.

The station was around a bend, and it looked out of service except for the low hum of electricity, telling me that the tracks were still being used. There was a metal sign suspended by two rotting wooden stakes. The sign read "The Ivory Line."  I decided to wait for somebody to come by. I waited for what seemed about an hour, but was really only about 10 minutes. I was just about to move on when I heard a train coming. I waited for it to arrive, and sure enough, it did. The train was painted black, and it had a sleek design, although it didn't look nearly as pristine as it would have when it was first built. There were several dents and chippings in the rusted metal, and the paint was cracked and chipped away in several places. I heard a voice from the train. "Next stop, Ariana." Ariana was the town where my mother lived. Reluctantly, I got up and stepped onto the train.

There was only 2 passengers on the train. One who looked like a drug dealer, with a light brown coat with a Metallica shirt underneath. He had worn brown boots and some tattered jeans. He had scraggly black hair and stubble. The other was a female sitting in the corner. She was wearing a red sweater and black sweatpants. I looked around at the seats. The booths were cut in some areas, and the leather was covered in flecks of dirt. The only thing illuminating the train was a dim fluorescent light on the ceiling. I took a seat behind the drug dealer and I waited for a conductor to come to stamp out my... Shit. I didn't have a ticket. Not like there was anybody selling them at the 'station.' I just decided to wait it out. To my surprise, nobody came, and the train started within a minute of me sitting down. I found it weird that nobody came to get the tickets. Not that I'm complaining. After about 6 minutes, I got up to go to the bathroom. I went to the back of the train and relieved myself. When I was coming back, I heard a feminine scream.

I rushed back to the train car and saw the drug dealer on top of her, beating her. I threw myself onto him and tried to get him off, but he backhanded me with a meaty and hairy hand. I tried socking him in the jaw, and it landed. I pretty soon had him down and unconscious. The girl was sitting there, bruised, bloody, and crying her eyes out. I immediately pulled the emergency stop tape, yet nothing happened. I tried 2 more times, and then went to go to the conductors room. To my surprise, there was nobody there. Nobody in the engineers room, nor anywhere else. I went back to the engineers room and tried to pull the lever back to stop the train, but I was stopped by a gloved hand, which then pushed me back. I stumbled onto the floor, baffled at the sudden appearance of the man. He stood much taller than me, and was clad in a blue suit and gloves, he had monocles on both eyes, although they seemed connected. There was a metal nametag on his suit that read 'Clemons.' He looked down at me. "Tickets, please?" His voice was the most bizarre I've ever heard. It sounded like it was coming out of a transceiver or an old radio. "I don't have any." I replied honestly. "No tickets, no ride. Get off my train."



Clemons sent a boot to my face, and I was sent backwards. I was in the other car now, and the girl and the drug dealer were both gone. I looked back at Clemons, only to see a hand that grabbed me by the hair. I punched him in the eye, and his monocle cracked. The conductor threw me against a window, which cracked open. I felt blood trickle down the back of my neck as the glass shards entered my head. Suddenly, all I could hear was a ringing sound, nothing else. I saw Clemons send another fist at me, and I was sent through the window, I looked down and saw I was plummeting towards the bottom of the mountain. I tried to look back at the train, but I was flipped the other way as my leg hit the side of the mountain. I felt no pain, but I knew that legs were not supposed to bend that way. I looked towards the ground again, but before I could see how close to the ground I was, I hit a pothole, and the car shook.

I blinked a couple of times, looking around. I was in my car, driving up the mountainside. I blinked hard again, but I was still inside of my car. Same Ford Fusion, same unbroken body as before. I looked down at the dashboard, and to my dismay.

The same amount of gas as before.


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