46
John Lucas swallowed hard as he felt his legs wobble beneath him. He looked down at the steel rails, wooden sleepers and chipped stone beneath him.
So this was it. This was where it all ended. This was to be his final resting place. Or, more accurately, some of him would rest more or less below where he now stood and other parts of him would be spread along the track and the front of the train — if he timed the jump right.
He knew what was going to happen and he knew it wouldn’t be pretty. But right now he didn’t care. Yeah, the train driver would need counselling and might never work again, but as far as John was concerned he could go f**k himself. He didn’t care about anything any more. He didn’t even care about his own life, never mind that of some bloke driving a train.
It would
