Final stop: zero station

Holly

I’d never liked night trains. And no, it wasn’t the noise of the wheels or the uncomfortable mattresses. I just resented having to spend eight hours in a small space with complete strangers, then pretend we’d all had a wonderful night’s sleep.

This time, I’d been lucky. There were only two of us in the compartment. The man opposite had arrived about twenty minutes before departure, tossed his rucksack onto the upper berth, taken off his jacket and got out his phone. So far, all he’d said to me was ‘Good evening’ and ‘Do you mind if I close the door?’ Almost the perfect travelling companion.

I put down the book I’d been trying and failing to read for the past ten minutes and checked the time.

23:47.

A little over six hours to go. There was an unread message from my father on my phone: Call me when you get there. We need to talk. It had arrived that afternoon. I’d seen the preview, but I hadn’t been in any hurry to open it. Our recent conversations had all ended the same way: he asked when I was finally going to start thinking about my future, and I explained that I’d been thinking about it for quite some time. We just had slightly different ideas about what it should look like.

We hadn’t spoken for almost two months. I typed a reply: I’ll be there in the morning. I’ll call. Then I sent it and turned my phone face down.

‘Can’t sleep?’ the man opposite asked.

I looked up. He seemed to be about thirty. Dark hair, short at the sides and a little longer on top. Grey jumper, dark trousers, a watch with a scratched face. He noticed too much.

‘Can you?’

‘I asked first.’

‘Is this a competition now?’

He smiled.

‘Just making conversation.’

‘Then no. I can’t sleep.’

‘Neither can I.’

I waited for him to say something else. He didn’t.

‘Well, that was a good chat,’ I said, picking up my book.

He gave a quiet laugh.

‘Daniel.’

‘What?’

‘My name’s Daniel.’

‘Holly.’

‘Nice to meet you, Holly.’

I nodded and looked back down at the page. Perhaps he thought I was rude. Perhaps he was right. After a difficult week, I simply didn’t have the energy to talk to people I’d never see again.

Someone walked past our door, talking loudly on the phone. Then a younger voice protested:

‘Mum, I’m not a little kid!’

‘Then stop behaving like one and go to bed.’

‘I’m fifteen!’

‘I remember. I was there when you were born.’

I couldn’t help smiling. A minute later, the boy appeared at our compartment. He was thin, with tousled brown hair and a blue hoodie, a bottle of water in one hand and a phone in the other.

‘Sorry, can you charge your phones in here?’ he asked, peering in.

Daniel checked the socket beside his berth.

‘Yes.’

‘Weird. Ours isn’t working.’

‘Maybe it’s your cable,’ I suggested.

‘No, it’s new.’

Daniel held out his hand.

‘Let’s have a look.’

The boy came in, handed over the cable and stood beside him while he tried it. A few seconds later, a lightning bolt appeared on the phone’s screen.

‘There you go. It works.’

‘Brilliant. Can I leave it here for ten minutes? I’m on four per cent.’

‘Go ahead.’

‘Thanks!’

‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

‘Toby.’

‘Have you told your mum where you are?’

He rolled his eyes.

‘I’m fifteen, not five.’

‘So that’s a no.’

‘I’ll tell her.’

He left, and a moment later we heard a woman in the next compartment asking where he’d got to.

‘Fifteen,’ Daniel said. ‘Difficult age.’

‘You sound as though you’re seventy.’

‘Some days I feel it.’

For the first time, I smiled at him without hoping it would end the conversation. The train swayed gently. A few lights passed outside, followed by darkness. We’d left the towns behind some time ago, and there wasn’t much to see.

Daniel stood.

‘I’m going to get some tea. Would you like one?’

‘No, thank you.’

He went out, and I tried reading again. This time, I managed almost two pages before someone knocked.

‘Come in.’

The carriage attendant stood in the doorway. She was a short woman of about fifty, with cropped dark-blonde hair and glasses on a chain.

‘Everything all right in here?’

‘Yes. Why?’

‘Nothing to worry about. Just checking. We’re having a few problems with the lights.’

I glanced at the lamp above the door.

‘They’re working.’

‘For now. Don’t worry if they go out. The electrician’s looking into it.’

She moved on down the corridor. I looked at the lamp again. Nothing unusual. Then it flickered. Once. Twice. The third time, the compartment went dark.

‘Oh, brilliant,’ I muttered.

Someone laughed outside. Someone else swore. A child asked why they’d turned the lights off. The train kept moving. I switched on my phone’s torch and shone it at the table. About twenty seconds passed before the lights came back on. That was when I noticed something had changed outside. At first, I thought we were passing through a cloud of smoke. But smoke usually moved, changed shape, drifted away. This looked more like thick fog, completely blocking the view. I leaned closer to the glass. I couldn’t even see any railway signals.

Daniel appeared in the corridor carrying two plastic cups in holders.

‘Changed my mind,’ he said, setting one in front of me. ‘Got you one as well. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like tea.’

‘And if I don’t want it?’

‘Then I’ll have two.’

‘Are you always this persistent?’

‘Only about tea.’

I picked up the cup.

‘Thank you.’

He sat opposite me and followed my gaze.

‘Fog?’

‘Looks like it.’

Daniel went over to the window.

‘Strange.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s very thick.’

I was about to point out that I’d managed to work that out for myself when the train jolted. Tea slopped over my hand.

‘Ow! What the hell?’

Daniel caught the cup before it tipped over. Almost at once, we were thrown against the seats. The train was braking much harder now. A rucksack fell from an upper berth. Something smashed out in the corridor. A woman screamed in the next compartment. I grabbed the edge of the table.

‘What’s happening?’

Daniel didn’t answer.

The wheels shrieked so loudly that I clapped my hands over my ears. Then came a dull crash. And the lights went out. I don’t know how much time passed. A few seconds, perhaps. Maybe a minute. I was sitting on the floor beside my berth. My head hurt, and there was a nagging ache in my right shoulder.

‘Holly?’

Someone touched my arm. I flinched.

‘What?’

‘Can you hear me?’

Daniel was crouching in front of me. His face looked pale in the light from his phone.

‘Yes. What happened?’

‘I don’t know. The train’s stopped.’

I tried to get up. He steadied me by the elbow.

‘Take your time.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You hit your head.’

‘I noticed.’

Doors began opening along the corridor. People came out of their compartments, asking one another what had happened and looking for the attendant. Somewhere, a child was crying. I put on my trainers and followed Daniel out. Toby stood by the next door. His mother, a short, dark-haired woman in a beige jumper, had him by the shoulders and was checking him for injuries.

‘I told you, I’m fine,’ he kept saying.

‘And I’m going to check again.’

‘Mum!’

‘Let her,’ Daniel said as we passed. ‘Trust me, it’ll be quicker.’

Toby sighed.

‘Have you all got together and planned this?’

I looked at him.

‘Did you get your phone?’

He stared at me.

‘Oh.’

Even now, his phone was his biggest concern. I couldn’t help laughing, then immediately regretted it as pain shot through my temple.

‘Are you all right, Holly?’ Toby’s mother asked.

‘Yes. Just bumped my head.’

‘I’m Rachel. Let me know if you need any help.’

‘Thank you.’

Three men were already arguing at the end of the corridor.

‘I’m telling you, we need to find the driver!’

‘Do you know where he is?’ another demanded.

‘In the locomotive. Where else would he be?’

‘Go on, then!’

‘I will!’

Nobody moved.

There was no sign of the attendant. The door to her compartment stood open, but it was empty. A logbook lay on the table beside a half-finished cup of coffee. It looked as though she’d only stepped out for a minute and would be back any moment.

‘Perhaps she’s gone to find the driver,’ someone suggested.

‘Without a torch?’ I asked.

No one answered. Daniel bent over the logbook, turned a page and studied the passenger list.

‘Twenty-four names,’ Daniel said.

‘On the whole train?’

He checked the heading at the top of the page.

‘Just this carriage. It’s the attendant’s passenger list, not the full train manifest.’

I looked towards the corridor. We’d heard a child crying somewhere after the lights went out, but I hadn’t seen any children among the people gathered around us.

‘What about the other carriages?’

‘I don’t know what’s happened to them. First, we should make sure everyone on this list is accounted for.’

‘Then we need to find out where the others are,’ I said.

Daniel nodded.

‘Agreed.’

A man in an expensive dark jacket snorted.

‘What next, a roll call? Are we at summer camp?’

‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ Daniel replied evenly.

‘Look, don’t start ordering people about.’

‘I’m not. I’m suggesting we make sure no one needs help.’

‘Who are you, anyway?’

‘A passenger.’

I liked that answer. While the man was trying to think of a reply, I picked up the logbook.

‘Let’s check. It’ll take two minutes.’

He looked at me as though I’d personally betrayed him.

‘Oh, here we go. Another one.’

‘You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,’ I offered. ‘We’ll know you’re whichever name is left.’

Toby sniggered behind me. His mother nudged him with her elbow. We went along the corridor, looked into every compartment, helped an elderly man find his glasses and reassured a young woman who hadn’t stopped shaking since the train had come to a halt. A few minutes later, Daniel came back to me.

‘Everyone on the list is here.’

‘And the attendant?’

‘No sign of her.’

‘Has anyone seen the driver?’

‘No.’

I looked towards the door at the end of the carriage.

‘Should we go outside and have a look?’

‘I was about to suggest that.’

Toby’s hand shot up.

‘I’m coming!’

‘No,’ his mother and I said together.

He looked so offended that I nearly laughed again.

‘You’re not even my mum!’

‘Exactly. I can say what I like.’

The outer door wasn’t locked. Daniel opened it, letting in a cold, damp wind. Beyond the doorway, the fog was so thick that we couldn’t make out the ground from the steps.

‘Careful,’ Daniel warned.

He climbed down first. I shone my phone’s torch after him, but the beam disappeared into the fog a few metres away.

‘Well? What’s out there?’ someone called from inside.

‘The ground,’ Daniel replied.

‘Very helpful!’ Toby called back.

I stepped onto the lowest step, then down. Fine gravel crunched beneath my feet. The air was damp, with a faint taste of smoke. Daniel moved past me and crouched.

‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘Checking the track.’

He ran a hand over the ground, shone his torch across it and frowned.

‘Strange.’

‘What is?’

‘This keeps getting stranger.’

‘Could you be a bit more specific?’

He stood.

‘I can’t see any rails.’

I pointed my phone at the ground. There was gravel beneath our feet. A little further away, it gave way to damp earth and short grass. But he was right. There was no sign of the steel rails the train should have been standing on. We moved a few steps and shone our lights beneath the carriage. The wheels were exactly where they should have been. The rails weren’t. I shone my phone beneath the carriage again, moving the beam from one wheel to the next, but found nothing except gravel and damp earth.

‘That’s impossible,’ I said.

‘I know.’

The steps rattled behind us as other passengers began climbing out.

‘What are you standing around for?’ asked the man in the dark jacket. ‘Found a road?’

I turned.

‘You’d better look at this.’

He climbed down, crouched, shone his phone beneath the carriage and swore. After that, people stopped arguing about whether to get off the train. They simply got off. Ten minutes later, all twenty-four passengers from our carriage were standing beside it. I looked along the train, trying to make out the other carriages through the fog. Their outlines were barely visible, and we hadn’t managed to establish whether anyone was still inside them.

‘We can’t just leave the others,’ I said.

Daniel followed my gaze.

‘We don’t even know how many there are. We need to find someone who can help.’

I didn’t like it. We’d checked every compartment we could reach, but that wasn’t the same as knowing what had happened to everyone else. Somewhere beyond the fog, there might still be people waiting for someone to come looking for them. I tried to make out something through the fog. No trees, no poles, no buildings. Just gravel beneath our feet and the dark side of the carriage.

‘We should stay by the train,’ Rachel said.

‘And wait for whom?’ asked the man in the expensive jacket. Vincent, I thought his name was. ‘Who’s going to come out here in the middle of the night?’

People started checking their phones. Nobody had a signal.

‘I can’t even get an emergency call through,’ said a young woman with short red hair.

‘Neither can I,’ someone else said.

‘Shall we try a little further ahead?’ Daniel suggested. ‘Keep together.’

‘What if the train leaves?’ an elderly woman asked.

I looked at the wheels resting on the ground.

‘I doubt it.’

We set off along the carriage, staying close together. I walked beside Daniel, while Toby, despite his mother’s repeated warnings, managed to work his way almost to the front with us.

‘I have a theory,’ he whispered.

‘Congratulations.’

‘No, seriously. What if it’s some kind of experiment? They knocked us all out, took us somewhere else, and now they’re filming our reactions.’

‘And they moved an entire train to do it?’

‘They do worse in films.’

‘People in films also open doors when they can hear someone breathing on the other side,’ I said. ‘I hope you won’t be doing that.’

‘Depends what’s behind the door.’

Daniel laughed quietly.

We went a little further. Then, suddenly, the fog began to thin. A narrow path paved with old bricks appeared ahead of us. It led downhill towards yellow lights, visible between the drifting banks of white.

‘There’s a town!’ Toby shouted.

Everyone began talking at once. A few people immediately set off, but Daniel stopped them.

‘Let’s agree on one thing first. No one goes off alone. If there are people down there, we’ll find the police, or someone who can help.’

‘And what if the train leaves?’ the elderly woman asked again.

‘It’s not on the tracks,’ I explained patiently.

‘I saw.’

‘Then—’

‘That doesn’t mean it won’t leave.’

I opened my mouth to answer, then thought better of it. After everything that had happened, I couldn’t even promise her that. We followed the path. At first, I kept looking back at the train. Its dark outline gradually disappeared into the fog, though I could still see the red light on the rear carriage.

Then I couldn’t.

A few minutes later, Toby tugged at my sleeve.

‘Holly.’

‘What?’

‘Where’s the train?’

I looked back. The path disappeared into the fog.

No light.

No carriages.

‘We’ve walked quite a way,’ I said.

‘No, we haven’t. I counted the steps. A hundred and twenty-seven.’

‘You were counting your steps?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know. I just was.’

Daniel stopped.

‘What’s wrong?’

Toby pointed behind us.

‘The train’s gone.’

‘We just can’t see it.’

‘But I could still see the red light at a hundred steps.’

I watched the fog drifting slowly between the trees on either side of the path.

‘Let’s keep going. At least we’ll be able to make a call-in town.’

No one objected. That bothered me more than anything. Twenty-four strangers, all of whom had had their own opinions about what to do a short while ago, had suddenly agreed to walk off into the unknown. Perhaps simply because there was nothing else to do. The town’s empty streets came into view. Small, two-storey buildings with brightly coloured façades lined a narrow road. There was a bakery on the ground floor of one, then a chemist’s, a clothes shop and a bookshop. Goods filled the windows. Lamps were on. Shop signs glowed.

There wasn’t a person in sight. I stopped outside the bakery. A sign on the door read: OPEN UNTIL 22:00. I checked the time.

00:16.

‘It is late,’ Daniel said, following my gaze.

‘I know. But why are the lights on?’

Trays of fresh bread and pastries stood in the window. I could make out croissants, loaves, even the price labels. Daniel tried the door.

Locked.

‘Perhaps everyone’s asleep,’ Rachel suggested.

‘The whole town?’ the red-haired woman asked.

‘Why not? It’s the middle of the night.’

‘Then why are all the lights on?’

Nobody had an answer. We walked on. A bicycle leaned against the wall outside the chemists. An open newspaper lay on a bench. Someone had left a cup outside a café, and steam was still rising from it. I touched the cup.

Hot.

‘What are you doing?’ Daniel asked.

‘Checking.’

‘What?’

‘Whether it’s real.’

‘And?’

‘The coffee’s real. There’s no one here. I don’t like it.’

He looked at the cup, then at the empty street.

‘Neither do I.’

We came out into a large square. In the middle stood a stone town hall with a tall clock tower. There were benches, flowerbeds and a small fountain. Water still flowed from it, though there wasn’t a single passer-by. Vincent took out his phone.

‘Right. I’ve had enough. I’m finding a hotel. We can sort this out in the morning.’

‘Without any money?’ Toby asked.

‘I have money, lad.’

‘I don’t.’

‘That’s your problem.’

Rachel put an arm around her son’s shoulders.

‘Toby. Come away.’

Vincent headed towards a large building with HOTEL above the entrance. Several people followed. I stayed by the fountain and looked up at the town hall. The clock showed three minutes to midnight.

‘That’s odd,’ I said.

Daniel was beside me.

‘What now?’

‘It’s past midnight on mine. That says eleven fifty-seven.’

‘Maybe it’s slow.’

‘Maybe.’

Toby came over and took out his phone.

‘Mine says sixteen minutes past midnight too.’

He looked up.

‘Hang on. Is the clock supposed to be doing that?’

I looked more closely. The second hand wasn’t moving.

‘It’s broken,’ I said.

At that very moment, it twitched.

Moved forwards.

Once. Twice. Three times. A bell rang out across the square. Everyone stopped.

Another chime.

Then a third.

People began looking around. A few raised their phones to record it. But instead of a fourth chime, a short electronic tone came from the tower, the sort you heard when an alarm was being set. Large white letters lit up above the clock face. They appeared one by one, as though someone were typing on an invisible keyboard.

WELCOME TO ZERO STATION.

Toby slowly lowered his phone.

‘Whoa.’

A second line appeared beneath the first.

REGISTERED PLAYERS: 24.

Daniel stepped forwards. My fingers went cold. A few seconds later, the final line appeared.

ONLY THOSE WHO PASS THE TRIALS WILL BE PERMITTED TO LEAVE.

Then a woman’s voice sounded across the square. Calm, pleasant, almost welcoming.

‘Dear passengers, your journey continues. Please familiarise yourselves with the rules.’

I looked at Daniel. He was staring at the tower. For the first time since our journey began, I had the feeling he had no idea what to do next either.