Situation No Win

Chapter Two

Chapter Two: The Guy With Silver Eyes

Running for the train leaving the small station, Tom jumped, just making it on board, his backpack giving him a heart-stopping moment as it snagged on the door. The attendant exclaimed in surprise.

“Sorry.” He tried an ingratiating grin.

Frowning at the foreigner, she led him to his compartment. To his relief, there didn’t seem to be any other occupants. He needed some space to himself. Tom knew he was running away again, simply delaying the inevitable but he needed time; needed a plan.

He shucked off his backpack, placing it on his bunk. His boots followed, sliding under the bunk to be replaced by the train slippers. He left his socks on.

Outside, the sun was setting, highlighting a temple roof, one of many in the numerous villages the train would pass through. He stared out unseeing, his first break in over twenty-four hours—possibly the longest twenty-four hours he’d ever lived. It was amazing he’d gotten this far.

Tom was suddenly grateful the train trip was thirteen hours. Thirteen hours to rest. Thirteen hours to plan. Thirteen hours before he had to face the music in Xi’an...

His stomach growled.

Tom dared not leave his backpack for too long. It was too precious.

He took a calculated risk. First he washed the dust off his face, then filled his flask before heading off to the refreshment car. Instant noodles, along with instant Nescafe, accompanied him back to his compartment a few minutes later.

Tom prepared the noodles, his mind a comforting blank. There’d be time to think about all that had happened: the who and why, and then to plan and deal with the anger. His first priority was to rest as best he could.

Fifteen minutes later, once the attendant had swapped his ticket for a pass, he switched off the light and stretched out on the upper bunk. It wasn’t his, but it was safer. If someone else came into the compartment, he’d move. A deep, dreamless sleep claimed him within two minutes.

An hour and a half later, a knock on the compartment door had him instantly awake. Dammit! he thought, feeling in his waistband for his knife before he remembered he’d had to abandon it at the station’s security checkpoint. He unlocked the door even as the knock came again. “Nei hao?”

Behind the attendant stood a familiar face, backpack over one shoulder, huge suitcase half as tall as she in tow. The attendant waved her in—Melissa, the English teacher from the Shenmu KFC.

Tom almost groaned out aloud. This was the last thing he needed, sharing a sleeper with the one person in Shaanxi Province who totally confused him; the one person who’d haunted his dreams... “Hello,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t remember him.

“Hello again,” she replied, with a harried smile.

So much for small graces, he thought, stepping aside. She bumped in through the door, struggling to tow the huge red suitcase behind her. The attendant helped with a push.

“Which is mine?” She turned to the bunks in slight bewilderment.

The attendant read Melissa’s ticket again before pointing to the other bottom bunk. Handing the woman her pass in exchange for her ticket, the attendant brushed aside her thanks with a smile and left.

Melissa shared an awkward look with Tom.

“I guess it’s just us,” he smiled, holding out a hand. He’d play this easy till he figured out what to make of her. She could merely be a foreign teacher, then again, she could just as easily be someone sinister.

Her smile was perfunctory as she took his hand in a gentle feminine grip. “Ja. Nice to meet you again...Tom, was it? Well...” She glanced around the compartment, shrugged off her backpack then laid it on her bunk. She looked helplessly at the suitcase, then up at the luggage rack.

“We could leave it there,” suggested Tom. “It’s unlikely the compartment will be full this time of week. If someone else comes, we’ll move it then.”

Her smile, this time, was warmer.

He sat on his bunk observing her. Melissa’s hair was up, her movements neat and graceful. Tom’s strong attraction to her felt even more insane to him. He’d have to be careful. He couldn’t risk trusting the wrong person. She glanced up suddenly from untying her boots, catching him out.

He grinned. “Sorry. Who’d have thought we’d run into each other again so soon?”

She laughed. “I know.”

He liked how easily she laughed now that she laughed with him and not Liu. Liu...He tried to push all thoughts of his friend away with another question for Melissa. “I’ve been trying to figure out where you’re from. Canada, right?”

She shook her head.

“Australia?”

That shake again. She’d gotten her boots off and was putting on the slippers.

“Not British!” He was getting confused now.

She grinned, “No. South Africa.”

“You don’t sound it.”

“What can I say. I'm of the original RSA TV generation. Lots of British, Canadian and Australian content.”

He nodded at the suitcase. “You going home?”

“Yep. And you?”

“I have people to see in Xi’an.”

“Oh right. How’s the dig going? And Liu? He said he might me meet me the next time he’s in Yulin,” she said, pushing her backpack to the end of her bunk.

Tom didn’t miss a beat, having expected the question. “It’s going fine, I suppose, except for the odd dust storm. Liu’s been busy. Probably won’t be in Yulin for some time.” Or ever again, he added to himself, fighting to mask his anger and fear.

“Oh,” she shrugged off some disappointment. “What about that odd relic he was talking about? A machine? He made it sound like that Greek computer thing.”

Tom was dismayed. Just how much had Liu told her, or others? He wasn’t going to add to her knowledge. Yawning hugely, he said, “Do you mind? I’ll tell you in the morning. I’m really beat.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t realise.”

Tom stretched out in the recovery position, facing her bunk, alert though feigning drowsiness, still unsure of her. He tried not to tense as Melissa dug in her backpack. Her hand emerged with a toiletry bag. She got up, took a few seconds to figure out the sliding-door handle then left the compartment.

He contemplated going through her pack and searching for weapons, but decided against it. He was too tired. He’d take things as they came.

She was back sooner than expected.

Tom was glad he’d stayed put after all.

She put away the toiletry bag, undid her hair, shaking it out, then turned off the light after locking the door. He heard her settle down in her bunk, her breathing growing regular as they drew into a small station with sodium lights. The train stopped for a minute or two. A jerk, and they were off again. Tom fell asleep within the next few minutes.

* * *

Sleep proved elusive for Melissa despite her fatigue after a full day of classes, the anticipation of seeing her family and friends back home keeping her alert. She lay quiet, not wanting to disturb the other occupant, content to let stray thoughts circle lazily around. To her surprise, most of them were revolving around him—Tom. He was just as gorgeous as she’d remembered with dark brown hair and curiously light grey eyes—almost like water or silver. Tall and nicely built—bonny braw as they’d say in Scotland, with that easy charm of many of the Scots she’d met. His voice was more soothing than she recalled, or perhaps he was more relaxed than he’d been before. He was nicer now, too—not such a jerk. Melissa acknowledged her attraction to him, especially when he smiled.

Was this attraction simply a symptom of association with a younger, happy phase of her life in Scotland? Melissa hoped the morning would bring clarity.

Then there was that dream the night after she’d met Liu and Tom in Shenmu. It had confused her at the time as she’d found Liu more charming and fun—definitely the kind of person whom she could see as a good friend. Tom had been so cold, signalling he wasn’t interested in her at all. Yet, in her dream, it had been Tom who was holding her tight as they hung over a precipice, and Tom’s kiss that made her wake up with a racing heart.

With a deep sigh, Melissa decided things would be what they’d be. In happy acceptance, she drifted in and out of sleep as they rolled on to Xi’an. Life in China was good to her. Visiting home was a special treat, if only for a two week vacation, and this gorgeous man’s company just a bonus. Melissa counted it as a good start to what was sure to be a good trip.

A soft sound jerked her back into wakefulness—the door handle. Someone on the outside had turned it. Wrong compartment, she guessed.

Then it turned again.

She lay absolutely still. That wasn’t right. There was something furtive about it all. She’d been warned about thieves on trains and had remembered to lock the door. Waiting for more movement, she debated whether to notify the attendant.

With a snick like a blade, the compartment door began opening.

With no time to alert Tom, she took a deep breath and screamed.

The shadow, framed against the open door, froze. Tom was suddenly sliding down his bunk, his foot flying out at the intruder holding a knife.

Shocked, Melissa screamed again.

Tom’s foot connected with the man as the train swayed. The intruder staggered back into the corridor. The Scotsman was already at the door as the intruder recovered. The intruder threw himself blade first through the doorway, only to scream as the door jammed on his knife-hand.

Tom swung open the door, then viciously slammed it shut again. But the attacker had dragged his hand free, retreating.

Cautiously, Tom first stuck his head out, then slipped out after the man, leaving Melissa open-mouthed. Appalled. Afraid.

* * *

Tom raced down the corridor towards the next car, with the attacker vanishing round the corner by the bathrooms. The security guard exclaimed as Tom reached the corner and dodged around. He brushed by an attendant holding a flask. The attacker, halfway down the corridor, turned, glancing behind. Tom recognised him—Jimmy, the interpreter from the dig. Tom put on a burst of speed, determined to catch him.

Behind Tom, the attendant and security guard followed closely.

Jimmy careened forward, hit the communicating door, hauled it desperately open and slipped through, then slammed it shut behind him.

Tom leant back, narrowly avoiding the heavy door, the attendant and security guard almost cannoning into him. Then, he too was throwing open the communicating door. Jimmy had the car door open, the moonlit desert racing terrifyingly behind him.

“Wait!” yelled Tom.

Jimmy glanced back at the three, then jumped.