The train thundered endlessly through the countryside, cutting across fields that shimmered faintly under the morning sun. The rhythmic clatter of metal against metal had become a strange kind of lullaby—loud enough to drown out the thoughts I didn’t want to face, quiet enough to let the fear whisper through the cracks.
We’d been on the train for hours. The stolen cargo car rattled with every turn, the cold air seeping through the gaps in the metal walls. I sat near the open side door, staring out at the blurring landscape—trees, rivers, broken fences—each flashing by like fragments of a life that wasn’t mine anymore.
Adrian crouched near the far wall, checking the pistol he’d taken from the man at the warehouse. His jaw was tight, his focus absolute. The bruises on his face had deepened
