When she left yesterday morning, he'd been perched on the edge of the bed watching BBC Breakfast in his bath towel. She'd given him an absent-minded peck, before rushing off to catch her train. She wished she'd said a proper goodbye. She felt sick. What if they never saw each other again. What if she died here, today and that had been their last moment together?
She replayed the scene. This time, she turned his head away from the TV, looked him in the eyes and told him how much she loved him. He took her face in his hands and kissed her back. Told her that he loved her more.
She felt so far away from him. So alone. She saw him in the sunshine, winding cables and packing away cameras, laughing and joking with the crew, completely oblivious to the fact that she was cowering in a train toilet with a bunch of deranged killers waiting outside to rip her throat out. Her lip trembled and a single tear rolled slowly down her cheek.
Before she could sink deeper into a well of self-pity, the power went out. They were plunged into darkness and the door mechanism let out a long, slow hiss.
She felt Anita tense beside her. "The door. It's unlocked!"
Brian groaned.
But it was completely silent outside. Neither the hiss, nor the groan had triggered a response. She waited for a moment, then tapped lightly on the door and felt a tiny seed of hope begin to swell within her when there was no response.
She knocked again; this time louder.
Again, complete silence.
"I think they've gone," she spoke into the darkness.
"How d'you know?" Anita's voice startled her as it came just inches away from her face.
"Listen."
They both held their breath and listened, then Anita did a bit of theatrical coughing and crashing around. It provoked nothing. Not a sound.
"I think you're right. Sweet!" Anita said as she got to her feet. "How do we open it?
"Just wait. Wait. Let's think for a minute."
"What about? They've gone and I'm outta here." The girl rattled at the door.
"We don't know for sure. Let's just try and open it a bit and see."
"I agree." Brian's voice was stronger.
Working together in the darkness, they managed to jiggle and slide the door open a crack, letting in a slim shaft of early evening sunlight and a waft of cool fresh air. When no crazed passengers appeared, ready to tear them apart, they opened it a little more. They continued like this, sliding it open, inch by inch, until the gap was wide enough for Lisa to stick her head out. She immediately pulled it back, with a sharp intake of breath.
"What?" Anita barked.
Although she'd been half expecting it, the horror of the scene took her breath away. Blood, body fluids and fragments of flesh and bone were splattered over the walls and floor. The smell of death hit her like a wave. Putrid and metallic.
But there was a light breeze coming from her right. It was cool and refreshing above the stench of the train and the stale air of the windowless toilet. She pushed her head out once more, a bit further this time, alert and ready to react to any sound or sudden movement.
Anita gripped her arm, trying to see around her. "What can you see?"
"Shh. Give me a minute." Lisa looked further round the edge of the door towards the source of the breeze.
All the train doors were wide open. A glimpse of blue sky, white clouds and green grass was tantalizingly close. To her right, the glass door to the carriage they had been in was closed. Blood and gore obscured her view inside. She turned to her left. The door to the next carriage was also closed and smeared with bloody matter. The space between the carriages was empty. Whoever had been outside was gone.
"It's ok. Let's open it a bit more so we can get out. Slowly. Quietly." Lisa whispered.
They eased the door open wide enough for her to step outside. Standing there, between the two carriages, she was overwhelmed by a feeling of exposure. She was torn between the urge to lurch for the open door and run, or to fling herself back into the safety of the toilet and curl into a ball. She forced herself to stand still. To wait. To listen. To breathe. She put her finger to her lips as Anita emerged from the toilet to stand beside her. The girl's eyes widened in terror as she looked around. Brian remained inside. Lisa thought she could hear him praying under his breath.
They began to explore, tiptoeing between bloody puddles, making sure not to touch anything, or look at it too closely. Anita went to the open door. Lisa focused on the carriage that contained their bags and, more importantly, their phones. They had to call for help. She had to call Neil.
Finding a spot of clear glass, she squinted inside. Stifling a scream, she fell backwards. Instinctively reaching out to steady herself, her hand landed on a slippery, clotted mess. She lost her balance and sat down heavily. Something squelched beneath her.
She almost screamed but stopped herself by biting her lip. Retching in disgust, she scrambled to her feet and wiped her hand on her dress. She frantically signalled a silent warning to Anita, by pointing furiously at the carriage and shaking her head. Anita crept over and they squatted low, peering inside.
It was full of shuffling, twitching creatures that had been their fellow passengers. They shambled around, jostling each
