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Then I was past the ticket barrier and on the station platform. A series of commuter carriages with the East Indian Railway Company logo and livery emblazoned on them stretched alongside the platform. Behind the commuter carriages, hitched to them, was a line of box-cars. The box-cars looked as if they’d been old decades ago.
Kwanon commuters were filling up the first of the carriages. Peelers with barking hounds were herding sacrifice victims in their prison gear onto the box-cars. Screams and groans reached us from that part of the platform. I watched as a stern-faced Peeler put his gleaming boot in the back of a female prisoner to force her into an already full box-car.
A large clock on a wrought-iron bracket above the platform told me it was 7.30 am. Before I had the chance to ad
