FATAL DESTINATION Chapter Three

One by one the occupants of the ill-fated waiting room fell silent in sleep. Not a product of tiredness, more from the collective urge to find some form of temporary relief from their strange captivity. For whatever time they languished in blissful slumber, the entire group enjoyed a complete lack of senses. There were no fearful dreams. No sounds to cause a sudden awakening and painful return to the terror that had imprisoned them. Not even the harsh light of a new day breaking, for they were suspended in a constant state of limbo, where the passing time had no consequence and every event was executed in the permanent darkness of night.

The fearsome sound of a train speeding through filled the room causing instant alertness in the entire group. Gilbert sprang to his feet with surprising agility for his advanced years and freshly woken state.
"The Door! The door is open!" he yelled, instantly striking forward towards the platform and the glaring lights from the carriages as they flashed past with no sign of slowing. "Stop!" the old man screamed, turning and making a feeble attempt of pursuit in the hope of attracting the driver's attention. "No! Wait!"

The old man's desperate calls disappeared into the night, once he had sprinted no more than a few feet. When Daniel reached the door, only slightly ahead of his astonished companions, he starred in horror down the deserted platform. There was no sign of Gilbert, or any sight or sound of the speeding train.
Even standing on the platform, with the amber glow of the waiting room behind them, no one felt the ease that this freedom should have brought. There was no sense of joy from escaping the gloomy confines that had been their prison room, only overwhelming dread prevailed.

Daniel stared into the surrounding blackness, which only gave way to a dismal circle of pathetic light issued from a single platform light over a wooden bench. Pete and Melissa stood by the platform's edge, devastated by not seeing their young daughter waiting for them to emerge. Agnes, obviously, and instantly convinced of her husband's certain demise had not ventured from inside. Painful the instinct that only comes with advancing age and the ability to survive in testing times, that would leave younger generations fighting for sanity told her that fate had dealt the final blow that even she could not avoid.
"At least we're out of there now." Peter began. "All we have to do is walked to the nearest village and find somewhere to stay till we can arrange transport.
"As simple as that! Hey?" Daniel replied.
"Yes as simple as that!"

Daniel cast a glance around, more a gesture of effect for Pete's sake, than a bid to determine the best direction to start out in.
"And which way do you suggest we walk in?" he found himself snapping.
"Does it really make any difference? They don't build stations in the middle of nowhere. There must be some village nearby, otherwise why would they keep the trains running."
This time before he spoke Daniel took another slow glance around, raising his arms in the air, indicating to everyone present that he was momentarily lost for words.
This moment of silence was enough for Pete to blurt out his angry rebuttal. "So the great know-it-all finally admits that he doesn't have all the answers!"
"And neither do you Pete, so just shut up, for once. Unless of course you can suggest what we do." Melissa added.

"Why does no one ever listen to me?" Pete yelled his anger plain to see by the way he paced a few steps before adding. "I've already said what we should do. Simply walk to the nearest village and wait for help there!"
"You just don't get any of this do you, Pete? Look around you! Do you see any distant lights that suggest there might be a village nearby?
"No! But..."
"Do you hear any traffic passing by?
"No!"

For a moment Daniel paused, realizing that his temper was running rapidly out of control. His own fear and desperation were chipping away at his last feeble clutches of logic and rational explanations for what was happening.
"There might be another train due,. All we have to do is flag it down" Pete suggested in a desperate whisper.
"Another train?" came the quick and harsh reply. "Oh yes another train. That's the answer. We'll just sit here and wait for the next train."
For the briefest of moments Pete felt the joy of thinking he had come up with the solution. His plan would save the day and normality would be returned in the blink of an eye, until, Daniel took the couple of steps to his side and in the calmest voice he could muster from the burning anger, raging fiercely inside him said:

"And just how is that train going to get here. Fly?"
The young husband and wife looked at him, stone faced and confused.
"Look down there!" Daniel said, directing their gaze past the edge of the platform. Their eyes fell, not on a shinny and well used track but a swathe of long dried grass that swayed not an inch from the vertical. "I don't think we're going to see any trains coming through here anytime soon, Do you?"
"I fed up of all this craziness," Pete began to fume. "I'm walking to the nearest village to get help."

Melissa's response was one of anger. "Look what happened to old Gilbert when he walked down there." She spat. "You are not going anywhere, you are going to stay right here and help us find Isabel!"
"She's probably sat somewhere in the village, waiting for us to join her."
"Why can't you get it into that thick head of yours Pete? There is no village!"
"Your wife is right, Pete," Daniel intervened, sensing the desperation and hysteria in his companions. "It is best that we all stay here, and stay close together."
"And do what? Come on wonder boy. Tell us! Stay here and do what exactly?"

"You're just the same as you've always been," Melissa began, her anger manifesting in a flurry of tears and vengeful ranting. "Our daughter is missing! We're trapped here in this hell-forsaken place, and all you can do is stand here and argue who is right and who is wrong!" Her anger had clearly passed her endurance when she turned, and made back towards the waiting room, after first aiming a painful palm to her husbands face. "You make me sick Pete!"
"Hiding in there won't get us out of this mess!" he scorned, as Melissa disappeared through the doorway.

During the argument, Daniel had taken the wise decision to retreat to a discreet distance and diverted his attention to a torn and tatty poster on the grotty window of what looked like the station masters office.
"Notice of closure," the poster headlined in big but faded letters. "All passengers should be advised that due to the bomb damage incurred in the air raid, on the night of Monday last, Greaveswood Halt will no longer remain a viable service. The last train will depart from platform one at 11pm on the 16th May 1943. The Transport Executive and staff would like to express their deepest sympathies to the families of the six passengers who lost their lives on that night"
With numbing shock, after dismissing the confusion of recent events, the two beleaguered men, simultaneously realized that today was the 16th of May 2003.