That’s how I find myself in a small, but comfortable cabin, hurtling across the picturesque Scottish countryside.
Even more exciting, according to the very informative leaflet I picked up upon boarding, is that the lacquered wooden window I’m looking through, accented with gold trimmings, is preserved from the train’s first voyage.
A new feature of the cabins, and one I’m also enjoying, is the soundproofed walls. So I might be missing the rumble of thunder; it does keep out the noise from the couple next door, who told me in way too much detail while we were boarding, that they’re celebrating their honeymoon.
Glancing out the window at skies full of fistfuls of grey cotton, struck through with forked lightning, I can admit the view is rather romantic.
Smiling to myself, I snuggle further into my cosy burgundy armchair and lift the white teapot at my side to pour a cup of tea brewed to perfection. The most beautiful amber liquid flows smoothly from the spout, splashing the bottom of the teacup. Rich, earthy steamswirls up to tickle under my nose, and I finish my drink with a healthy splash of milk and a healthier dollop of honey.
It’s my holiday after all, why not indulge?
I grab my half-read book on Skara Brae, too excited to leave it face down for another second as my teaspoontinks-tinksagainst my teacup, before I place the silver stirrer on the delicate saucer.
Relaxing back, I let loose a sigh.
I’d thought about visiting my family in England, but while I love them to death, they can be a bit overwhelming. So, before my final year of university, where I’m certain I’ll be run ragged on my History degree, I wanted to do something relaxing and fun.
I lift my cup, but before I can take a sip, apingsounds from my pocket.
Huffing out a breath, I place my tea down and pull my phone out to see a message from my big brother Kai, reminding me to take my anxiety medication like I’m a child.
I reply with a pill emoji instead of explaining for the thousandth time that I’m an adult and don’t need reminding. Then I slip my phone back in my jeans pocket, pick up my tea—and pause as something prods the back of my mind.
Glancing around like Kai might be hiding in the thin wardrobe to catch me out, I place my cup on the saucer and quickly grab my pill capsule from the bag at my feet, popping the one marked ‘Saturday’ that I must’ve forgotten about in all the excitement of my trip.
I toss back my pill and scoop up my tea to wash it down, but I’m interrupted again when athumprattles the roof.
“Hail, maybe…?” I wonder aloud.
I’m about to finally take a sip to help the dry pill down my throat when several more hard knocks rattle the roof. The train is hurtling through valleys to get to our destination, so it’s not like we’re ploughing through trees.
“What is going on up there?”
Anotherbang, shaking the roof with more force this time.
Frowning, I press my book against my chest as I set my tea down. “Maybe I should get the conductor…” I mumble, beginning to stand just as a large shadow comes hurtling towards the window.
But it isn’t a shadow—it’s a man.
I barely have enough time to let out a yell as the figure smashes through the window. Glass shatters, wind howls inside, and a hulking man collides into me.
Chapter Three - Ketill
My fists clamp around the wet railing as rain and wind blast into my face. The shifter who dragged me down is lost somewhere on the tracks, his cut-off scream followed by a sickeningcrunch.
I bounce against the slick, rattling body of the train, and with each impact, a pained groan is punched from my chest. My reliable old steel-capped boots turn into my worst enemy as I try to gain purchase, but skid away with every attempt.
So, when the water between my fingers begins to loosen my grip, and I start to believe my luck can’t get any worse, I spot the tunnel. One barely wide enough for the train itself, with very little thought to anyone who might be hanging off the side, and I nearly burst into laughter.
Fate, it seems, wants a show, and if I’m dying, it’ll be far more spectacular than this.
Letting free a string of curses, I jerk my knees up so that when I’m beaten against the train’s frame, it’s the soles of my boots that meet metal instead of my bruised torso. The tunnel’s mouth is closing fast—my grip on the railing coming loose—and with a mighty shove, I leap off the surface, swinging toward a window just as my grip falters.
Just before the tunnel swallows us, Icrashthrough a window.
Then glass flying everywhere as I collide with something—someone—and topple to the ground in a tangle of limbs.
There’s a beat of silence, my heavy breathing trying to fill it, then I bark out an amazed laugh. “Sometimes, I surprise myself with how clever I am. I really didn’t think that’d work.”
