FATAL DESTINATION Chapter One

Daniel’s business trip had been a succession of disasters, one after the other, each one superseding the last with its increasing inconvenience and ultimate annoyance. Therefore it came as little surprise when the train he had eagerly booked a discount passage on three weeks previously drew to an unscheduled stop at what could only be described as the most desolate and neglected station in the land.
"Ladies and gentlemen," began the distorted announcement on the intercom system. "We apologize for the inconvenience, but due to unforeseen circumstances all passengers are requested to disembark. Alternative arrangements are being made to convey you to your final destinations at the earliest possible opportunity."

"Great! Just blooming great! This is all I need!" Daniel cursed, staring past his reflection in the window, trying desperately to make out some detail in the blackness outside. A solitary light swung and flickered in the wind, its dull attempt to illuminate the area around it fell short of even a pathetic gesture. Only serving to reflect on a curtain of rain falling at an insane angle, as the angry wind carried it helplessly along.
"Hurry along, Sir. The train leaves in five minutes." Announced the conductor as he walked down the aisle and through into the next carriage, and repeated his message to whatever passengers occupied that area.

With anger and reluctance, Daniel plucked his two modest suitcases from the overhead luggage shelf and made his way awkwardly between the seats, cursing frequently when his case jammed against the ends of the seats and banged painfully into his shins.
Following his first instinct to run for cover from the driving rain, Daniel placed his luggage on the platform under the solitary light and scanned around him. With the aid of the dim light from the carriage windows he could just make out the figures of five fellow passengers heading in his direction. Although the wind quickly carried away their voices, it was obvious from their demeanour that they were just as angry as he was.

By the time they reached him and stood together as a group, the sound of the trains horn pierced the night air, along with the thunderous roar of the diesel engine as it slowly pushed carriage against carriage in its bid to gain motion on the wet slippery track, in the direction from which it had arrived.
As the two red tail lights from the end of the train faded away through the curtain of rain, its former passengers stood, momentarily silenced by a shared sense of desperation.
"Well, isn’t this bloody marvelous! And on a frightful night like this dumped in the middle of nowhere. Heads will roll … believe me, heads will roll!" said the tall, well, dressed man at the head of the gathering, before turning and striding with strong defiant steps towards the weather beaten sign that carried the faded words ‘Waiting Room’.

Next to follow in the tall strangers steps were a young couple and their young daughter. "Come on Isabel; let’s get you out of this rain before you catch pneumonia or something even worse."
For a brief moment Daniel smiled to himself at the concerned father’s statement. ‘What ailment could possibly be worse than pneumonia?
"I suppose we should have expected something like this to happen," said the aging woman, to her tired-looking husband. "This is your fault! I told you we should have waited for the later train. But oh, no… you had to book the cheapest option … just like you always do!"

"Yes dear. Sorry dear. The old man replied, obviously accustomed to such scathing criticism of his organizing skills, and knew only too well that justifying his actions would be a fruitless exercise.
"Now look!" she continued. "We’re stuck in the middle of nowhere on a night like this. I dare say we’ll be stranded here all night. That’s if we don’t get forgotten altogether. And it’s all your fault!"
"Yes dear. I know you’re right again."
"Oh, come on Gilbert! Hurry up. The luggage is getting soaked."
"Coming dear, right behind you." Gilbert picked up the suitcase; he had placed at his feet and turned to Daniel. "It’s all my fault ... it always is, you know!"

Daniel laughed in reply as he followed on and made for the waiting room.
Any laughter, or indeed any form of cheerfulness soon disappeared when the six stranded passengers discovered the dismal and grimy state of their refuge.
The room was a moderate size, a fact consoled Daniel slightly. At least what little heat emerged from the old pot-bellied stove in the corner would not dissipate into distant corners and be lost. That along with the body heat of six irate individuals should maintain a bearable temperature throughout their reluctant occupancy. As for any light? Just like the bleak platform outside a single bulb hung from the ceiling, swinging in merry dance, motivated by the howling wind that rushed into the room when the sorry group of commuters entered.

Once again the tall, well dressed man was first to voice his angry disapproval; "This is ridiculous. Look at the state of this place. Surely we’re not expected to endure this for …" For a moment, he paused, as if words failed him. He was obviously a man who was not used to such appalling squalor. "This is outrageous, simply outrageous. Head will …"
"Heads will roll?" young Isabel giggled.
"They will indeed," The man coughed, a deep throaty bark, more an attempt to camouflage his embarrassment that a young girl of no more than ten to twelve years old could instantly predict his sentences and finish them for him.
"Isabel, stop doing that. I’ve told you before its rude, now apologize to the nice gentleman," scalded the mischievous girls’ mother.

"I’m sorry, nice gentleman. I won’t do it again."
Whether intentionally, or not, from that point young Isabel’s childish mischief had lightened the atmosphere. Gradually the room filled with conversation and laughter as the group settled onto the dusty seats, slowly accepting the fact complaining would serve no purpose other than making an awful situation even more unbearable.
One by one the strangers introduced themselves and exchanged polite hand shakes.
"My name is Agnes. I’m very pleased to meet you," said the old lady, taking Isabel’s hand in hers. "And what do you call your little friend?" she gestured to the baby-sized doll Isabel had placed meticulously on the seat beside her.
"This is Molly!" she announced proudly. "I’m afraid she not in a very good mood. She tends to get very moody and irritable when she’s hungry and she hasn’t eaten anything since lunchtime."

"Oh dear," Agnes replied with convincing concern. "Do you know dear? I do believe I packed a small packet of chocolate biscuits in my case, do you think she would like one of those?"
"Are they dark chocolate?"
"Yes they are. They’re Gilbert’s favorite, but we won’t tell him," Agnes whispered.
While Molly and Isabel tucked into Agnes’s secret stash of dark chocolate delights, Daniel couldn’t help noticing that Tom, the well dressed man had begun to get restless. During the earlier introductions Tom had announced, with some pride that he was a successful barrister. This left no one in the room in any doubt, that, come the end of the journey, Tom would waist no time in applying his trade by contacting the railway company and with equal certainty, ‘heads would roll.’

"This is ridiculous!" The barrister began, already crossing the room towards the door. "There must be a village nearby. Maybe I can find a telephone. Or, more importantly a more comfortable place to await our rescue."
"Rescue?" Gilbert laughed, "We’re in a railway station, not some far off desert island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I’m sure we won’t have to wait much longer before another train or some other form of alternative transport arrives."
Before anyone could offer further words of advice or dissuasion the door slammed shut and the barrister had disappeared into the squally blackness beyond.

The departure of the irritable barrister seemed to once again shroud the stranded group in a cloud of heavy depression. Each member immersed themselves in their own thoughts and prayers of a speedy conclusion to their journey. All that is, except Isabel who had stretched out on the wooden bench, clutching Molly and had conceded to tiredness from the unscheduled and boring interruption to her journey.
Ten minutes had passed in uncomfortable silence, since their number had reduced to five and the sound of a bell outside on the platform tolled its volume and clarity such that it could clearly be heard above the inclement conditions.
"I told you we wouldn’t be here much longer. That bell is a signal that another train is approaching." Gilbert announced joyously. "I hope Tom has heard it and decides to turn back."

Isabel’s father draped his daughter carefully in the large overcoat he was wearing and picked her up in his arms, while his wife hoisted their luggage awkwardly and struggled to carry them to the door, in readiness for a speedy exit. The others followed in kind. All eager to board the train.
"I’ll go outside and see if I can see anything," Daniel announced, taking hold of the door handle. "What the …!" he gasped when the door refused to open.
"What’s wrong?" Isabel’s father blurted, immediate signs of concern rang clear in his voice.
"The doors stuck!"
"I can hear the train approaching!" old Gilbert mumbled. "There’s something not quite right here!" he added joining Daniel in renewed and desperate attempts to pull the door open.

Above the sound of the wind and rain lashing angrily on the grimy glass of the small windows, the sound of an approaching training gradually got louder.
"It’s not slowing down!" Isabel’s mother shouted.
"Leave it!" said Gilbert, releasing his grip of the handle and backing away, his face suddenly transformed to a pale mask of shock. "Something is definitely not right here. Don’t open that door."
"What has come over you Gilbert?" his wife said, instantly angered by her husbands strange, sudden behavior.
Daniel ignored the old man’s warning and continued to pull frantically on the unyielding handle. Until Pete hurriedly bundled his daughter into his wife’s arms and leapt to Daniel’s side to offer is weight to the efforts.

The sound of the train was accompanied by insane vibrations which caused the windows to rattle and lighter objects to dance on the spot adding to the chaos and pandemonium which quickly followed.
Gilbert continued to shout his warning, and pull on the sleeves of the two young men. He tried desperately to pull them free of their strenuous efforts.
In turn Agnes made her feeble attempts to calm the old man. Melissa returned the still sleeping Isabel to the wooden bench and joined in the sudden panic displayed by her fellow passengers.
Only when the sound of the train receded into the distance and the vibrations slowed to a hardly audible rumble did any kind of order prevail.

"I told you something was wrong!" Gilbert repeated in a shaky whisper.
"Oh shut up, you silly old man!" Agnes retorted, angrily. "This is a railway station. I expect trains go through here regularly. They can’t all be the one we’re waiting for."
"No. Agnes, he’s right," Daniel began, solemnly. "Something is definitely not right here. Not only was that train not the one we’re waiting for … It was a steam engine!"
A strained silence resumed for a brief moment and everyone stared at him in disbelief. No one offered any contraction, one by one Gilbert, Agnes, Pete and Melissa all realized that he was right. Even more alarming was the confirmation of his statement when the distinct smell of acrid smoke began to drift around the room.

No one was prepared for Melissa next reaction; "Isabel!" she screamed frantically, "Isabel, where are you."
The five strangers were immediately united by a sense of consuming horror. Forgetting any effort for a speedy exit, each and every one of them stood rigid with fear as they stared at the inanimate form of Molly discarded on the floor. Isabel was no where to be seen.
"Stop messing about Isabel!" Pete shouted. "This is not the time for stupid games. Come out now!"