by A. J. Roe
“What about the squid container?”
“Oh yeah, I’d almost forgotten about that little gem.” Rick smirked, there was still a lingering aroma of seafood coming from his hair, although by now he’d become too used to it to care.
Pulling it from his belt, Rick shoved the relic under the cheap, lumpy foam pillow, with his hand still wrapped around the handle. He managed to get semi-comfortable, with his knees tucked up.
The train rocked and bounced gently up and down, it was soothing and quickly seemed to lull Yuriko into a slumber above him. Every so often she would jolt or murmur something incomprehensible in Japanese as she fell deeper into a troubled sleep. No doubt her body was still fighting against the massive deficit of energy used in the last few days while her mind was struggling to process the terrible things she’d seen and experienced.
Rick tried to do the same, but sleep evaded him. He lay staring at the faux-wooden ceiling bobbing up and down and found his thoughts falling into the nonsensical realms that flowed in the moments between sleeping and being awake. He thought about Ellie and he wondered if she even knew he was gone. Was there a missing person report out for him? Did she know he was being hunted as a murder suspect? Or fighting insurmountable odds to try and save them all from total annihilation? He’d like to see how useless Sarah thought he was now.
To make matters worse, Rick now needed to piss so badly it even warranted the long stumble through the unsteady corridor towards the cubicle at the end of the carriage.
When he got there, using the toilets themselves presented almost as much of a challenge as the journey. The jolting and bouncing floor made it difficult to keep balance let alone maintain an accurate stream.
As he stood pissing, Rick’s thoughts drifted back to Ivan, Sota and the Professor and the sickening things he’d seen in the last few days. His heart started pounding. Suddenly, he was struggling for breath.
The tiny, orange room started to spin and Rick fell against the bathroom door, his skull bouncing off the metal frame. He swallowed deep gasps of air in an attempt to fight the overwhelming nausea and stabbing pains in his chest. It was utterly terrifying, like he was dying over and over again with each second that passed.
After what felt like an age, the mayhem in his head started to subside and he could breathe again. What the hell was that all about?
Rick thudded the folding bathroom door open, just in time to get thrown flat on his face in the corridor as the train braked.
On returning to the compartment, Yuriko had begun snoring like some kind of nasally congested elephant. Strangely, the noise helped ground his thoughts, keep him in the here and now rather than start to spiral again. He was glad she was with him—even if her snoring seemed to be impossibly loud for someone of her size.
Rick lay down again and as he faded into sleep, one thought landed in his mind. Today was Saturday. Ellie’s party. He’d missed her birthday and broken his promise to her. For some reason, even in light of the coming End of Days, Apocalypse, Ragnarök or whatever you wanted to call it, coupled with the fact that their only hope would permanently expire in close to four days, this was the one thought that really choked him up.
30
The rails softly clacked every couple of seconds. Warm morning sun was already spilling through the pale-yellow curtains. Rick reached up and tugged the closest one back. The glaring light stabbed like a needle in his brain. I need water.
After gulping down half of the remaining bottle that had been in their cabin, the pain in his head started to fade.
Rick gazed out at the landscape beyond the window, it was breath-taking. The sheer scale of the vast plains was epic. They stretched endlessly onwards, perfectly flat until finally merging with the horizon in the distance. Every so often the emerald green was punctuated with a speck of bright pink or yellow from the flowers that dotted the grasslands.
It was surprising how little the scene fitted with Rick’s mental picture of the Russian countryside. There was no snow, no burly old woman carrying logs, just simple flat grasslands stretching into infinity. As his gaze worked from one side of the window to the other, it dawned on him that he was now alone in the compartment.
At that moment, the flimsy, panelled door slid back and Yuriko entered. The first thing that caught his attention was how clean she smelled, a faint fruity aroma from the shampoo on her still-wet hair assailed his nostrils. She was dressed differently too, the old lady clothes were gone. She still had the same simple, flat slip-on shoes but was now wearing a tight-fitting pair of black jeans and a dark blue sports T-shirt with a white lion logo over her heart. Yuriko looked like a different person altogether, a much more attractive one.
Any excitement at the prospect of a wash and change of clothes quickly turned to embarrassment when Rick realised how grimy and disgusting he was in comparison to Yuriko. He hadn’t cleaned his teeth for four days and running his tongue over them could feel a thick layer of fur. The stench of his own sweat, mixed with rancid old squid was emanating from his person. He wasn't sure there was enough soap in the world to ever rid himself of it truly.
“They have showers in the next compartment over,” she smiled.
“Where’d you get the clothes?”
“There’s a rich family with a few rooms at the far end of the private coaches, they seem to have brought entire wardrobes with them so I’m sure they won’t notice a couple of things missing. Besides, we need to look incognito right?”
“Jesus, stealing Yuriko?” Rick swung round onto his feet and stood up, “I thought the Japanese were meant to be obedient and well behaved.”
“Well, there’s still a lot about me you don’t know,” she pushed him playfully on the shoulder. “Now go and take a shower. You stink!”
Rick waited until the coast was clear and ducked into one of the compartments at the end of the train that seemed to be a luggage storage space only. He had time to snatch a black T-shirt, a faded pair of jeans and a sports jacket from the suitcase at the top of the pile before sounds of people moving about in the next compartment forced him out of the room.
Rick balled the clothes up and shoved them under his arm, before making a quick dash to the toilet cubicle at the end of the corridor.
As he changed in the tiny cubicle, which literally had enough space for him to stand facing the wall with his arms by his sides, it dawned on Rick that he now faced a dilemma. He’d have to either go commando or reuse the same disgusting pairs of boxer shorts and socks he’d been wearing for the best part of the week. After a quick deliberation, he opted for the latter, rinsing his underwear in the sink, wringing them out as best he could, then donning the soaking garments once again.
The rest of the day passed with relative uninterest as they crossed the Mongolian Plateau and the vast open plains that sat north of China. It was the land of Genghis Khan and the hordes of his descendants that six centuries earlier had dominated almost a third of the planet. Rick pondered how it was possible to go so fast, from nomadic groups of hunter gatherers, living off the land, to the staggering number of humans that were now draining the planet's resources so relentlessly and on such a scale.
As the train thundered endlessly onwards, hunger pangs and a parched throat forced Rick to venture out in search of the cafeteria cart. He found it at the rear of the vehicle, some eight compartments down. Using the last of Yuriko’s money, he loaded up on the cheapest bread, cheese and bottled water he could find, saving enough back for a couple of cans of pre-brewed Nescafé. After a wash, some food and drink, he felt almost human again.
To fend off boredom, the next few hours were spent listening to the conversations through the paper-thin walls of the adjoining carriages. To their left, a pair of old Chinese men had filled the room, getting on at the last stop. Rick had caught a glimpse of them as he had walked down the corridor earlier. They looked like they could be brothers, both tall, wiry figures, wearing knitted Muslim skullcaps and sporting leathery weather-beaten skin. When he comm
ented to Yuriko that he thought there weren’t any Muslims in China, she seemed to take great joy in correcting him, apparently, they numbered in the tens of millions.
To the right was a small family, a young couple with a toddler. Yuriko translated snippets of their conversations. As Rick listened to the playful laughter of the child through the walls he was stabbed by pangs of jealousy. Being in close proximity to these strangers reminded him why they needed to be doing what they were. Even though he’d lost his own chance of playing happy families with a wife and daughter, there were countless others in the world each living out their own stories’ day by day. Millions of souls, old and young, rich and poor, whose continued existence now depended on him and Yuriko, whether they knew it or not. Besides, what did he have to lose that hadn’t already been lost?
✽✽✽
That evening, the younger of the two brothers in the adjoining compartment rapped his knuckles against the wooden door. With a combination of broken Chinese, hand gestures and smiles, the brother, who was probably early-fifties, invited the pair of foreigners into their room to play cards.
After almost two days on the train, all were glad for the distraction. Rick had counted the tiles on the ceiling as Yuriko slept, one too many times already. He stashed the relic beneath his bed, figuring it would be safe there for a while. He’d be able to hear anyone going in the room from next door and there was no way on or off the train, for the time being at least. They’d just had a stop which meant that the next one wouldn’t be for hours.
The pair entered the brothers’ compartment and both immediately started coughing. The air was filled with thick blue smoke from the unfiltered Chinese cigarette the older brother had glued to his lips. A pile of cards lay face up in the centre of the room, with cans of warm beer, a large clear bottle and packets of smokes on either side. The brothers introduced themselves, confusingly both as ‘Han’. After a few attempts Rick gave up trying to figure out the difference and simply resigned himself to calling them ‘Old Han’ and ‘Young Han’ in English.
At first, the brothers attempted to teach the two foreigners the rules of the game vocally. Yuriko got it straight away but the relayed instructions from broken Chinese to English made little sense. Instead, Rick just watched them play for ten minutes until he could get the hang of the game. It was kind of like poker, collecting runs and straights of different suits but by picking up cards and dropping unwanted ones down one at a time.
The first round of cards went badly and Rick was given a shot from the bottle of clear liquid as a punishment. He was pleasantly surprised to find it was a sweet, apple-flavoured liquor rather than the type of chemical homebrew he had tasted back in Ivan’s basement.
Over the next hour and a half, Yuriko won time and time again, to the extent that she was accused in a jokey tone of cheating, although Rick suspected the younger of the brothers was half serious.
‘Old Han’ then decreed that she needed to start drinking for her wins too. It soon took her edge off, making the whole affair much more jovial and giving the old boys, who seemed to be impervious to the effects of their liquor, a chance to win.
It was almost midnight, and both their heads were swimming from the booze when Rick and Yuriko fought off the challenges of continued games and stumbled out into the corridor. He slid the door back for her, “Your cabin ma’am,” he said, slurring his words as he pulled an upper-class English accent out of thin air. For some unknown reason, he thought it would be funny at the time.
“Arigato Gozaimasu.” Yuriko replied in Japanese, bowing low, with a smile on her face.
Rick sniggered and put a hand on the young woman’s shoulders guiding her through the doorway.
He stepped in behind her and slid the door shut. “I thought you weren’t much of a drinker but actually you handled that okay. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“I’m not all work and no play you know,” Yuriko said in a mocking tone, wobbling slightly where she stood. Whether it was a result of the alcohol or the swaying floorboards beneath them was unclear, probably a combination of the two.
“You didn't do badly either,” she said, “Well not at th-” -a jolt from the carriage made Yuriko lurch forwards and she grabbed onto his right arm for stability.
The pair stood silent for a moment. Maybe it was Rick’s alcohol induced brain conjuring something from nothing, but he could have sworn there was a little spark between them just then.
“Oh shit!” he said, suddenly remembering the relic. He spun on the spot and pulled back the pillow. They both burst out laughing at the ridiculous situation, it was exactly where he’d left it.
Rick turned back around as Yuriko stepped forwards, looking up into his eyes. There was now only a couple of inches between them. The dim yellow light of the compartment seemed to swell as Rick’s heartbeat raced. On top of everything else, this should be the last thing on his mind.
The next moment, they were kissing. Yuriko pushed him back against the thin wooden door and they slid along to the ladder of the bunk beds as the action grew more frantic. She peeled back Rick’s shirt and before he had time to make sense of the insane spiral of thoughts and questions in his head, she was on top of him on the bottom bunk, grinding against his crotch as he struggled to release the button on his trousers. Oh shit. This is really happening.
“Wait.” Yuriko pulled away. “This is a bad idea.”
“No, it's fine. Don’t worry.” Rick kissed her again and she responded for a few seconds before forcing her palms up between them.
“No, no. This is stupid.” She was on her feet pushing herself away to make space between them.
“With everything else going on, we can’t afford to get caught up in this. We have to focus.”
“Come on. Relax. Why do you have to be so uptight all the time?”
The moment it had slipped his lips, Rick knew he’d made a mistake.
“What did you just call me?” Yuriko’s eyes narrowed and her bottom lip quivered.
“Nothing. Sorry.”
“Liar! Don’t worry, I’ve heard the same thing my whole damn life,” she slurred. “Besides, I’d rather be uptight than an irresponsible fool.” Yuriko’s face twisted, reverting back to the familiar bitter expression she often wore.
“Hey, I got us through everything so far, didn't I? I saved your damn life. There’s no way in hell you can call me irresponsible. You should be thanking me.”
“Whatever Rick.” Her face was burning red. “I’ve done my research, I know all about you remember. I know the reason your wife left you. I know why you’ve never managed to hold down a proper job in your life. Stop trying to pretend you’re such a big shot.”
A moment of silence passed, broken only by the clacking of wheels against steel, like the train’s heartbeat itself. Rick ground his teeth. He stared right into her eyes, trying to comprehend the manic switch of personalities that had just taken place. It reminded him of Sarah and the way she’d go from a loving wife to a vengeful psycho in a matter of seconds, often for reasons that were a complete mystery to him.
“I was wrong. You’re not the person I thought you were,” Rick said.
“Yeah, well maybe I’m not.”
“Exactly. You’re just another stuck-up academic, I had you pegged from the moment we met.”
Yuriko sighed and ran her hand back through her hair, turning to face the window. “This whole thing, whatever just happened between us, this was a mistake.”
“Fuck it, whatever.” Rick slumped back onto the hard bed, rolled over towards the wall and tried to sleep, even though he knew it was pointless. As he lay there stewing, it dawned on him that she was right about one thing. This was a mistake. First chance you get, you need to get rid of her, all she’ll do is slow you down.
31
A squeal of brakes filled the compartment. Rick glanced at the plastic clock on the wall above the door. Four-thirty. Why are we stopping?
The last couple of days had been tedious
to say the least. Out of some perceived embarrassment or anger, Yuriko had put her guard well and truly up. She tried her absolute best not to engage Rick in any conversation other than pure business. While it definitely had been a mistake almost getting together, there was no way he was just going to pretend it had never happened.
Despite being close to the point where he’d have probably given a literal arm and a leg to get off the train, they were still clearly in the middle of nowhere. This impromptu stop was worrying.
Pulling back the curtains, Rick hoped for some clue as to what was going on. Beyond the windowpane there was nothing but the night sky, a crystal-clear mosaic of distant stars and planets that dotted the heavens. Each ancient ray of light began a literal million miles away from the irrelevant, terrestrial troubles that seemed so important to him here. In fact, the thudding of the engine as it ground to a halt was the only sign that humanity even existed out here.
Reluctantly, Rick reached a hand up to the bunk above. Finding Yuriko’s arm, he shook her awake. Less than a minute later, footsteps were clacking up and down the corridor and a train guard banged on each door, yelling something in Chinese to rouse his passengers.
“What’s he shouting about?” Rick asked.
“The Tibet border checkpoint. What’s our plan?”
“The same as before.”
With Thyos’s instructions, it had been easy enough to hide in the maintenance compartments while they crossed the Russian border a couple of days earlier. But without a word from his digital companion for more than seventy-two hours and her time fast running out, Rick wasn’t sure if Thyos would even be there at all this time. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to have a backup plan.
“Do you remember the coordinates?” Rick said.
Yuriko rolled her eyes. “Of course I do, I translated them. Do you?”