"Ugh..."
"The aftereffects of that flashbang are brutal..."
Havel lay on the floor, slapping his own cheeks to clear the cobwebs. The concussive blast had rattled his brain, even with the helmet.
But the leeches had it worse.
Being phototactic creatures, they thrived in darkness. The 7-million-candela burst had overloaded their primitive nervous systems. Most died instantly from shock. The survivors lay twitching on their backs, shriveled and harmless.
Knowing this weakness was the only reason Havel had packed so many flashbangs.
"Hey!"
"Havel! Are you okay? Did they bite you?"
As the ringing in his ears faded, Rebecca scrambled out from behind the seat. She rushed over, her face pale with worry. Despite his annoying personality, he was her partner. She couldn't handle watching him get eaten alive.
Billy stood up too, looking concerned. Havel had just taken a swarm for the team.
"I'm fine..."
"Hey! Little girl! I said I'm fine! Stop touching me! Ow! Damn it, don't touch down there!"
Rebecca was frantically patting him down, checking for breaches in his armor. In her panic, her hands were wandering into danger zones.
"Idiot!"
She blushed furiously, realizing where her hand was. To cover her embarrassment, she pinched the soft flesh at his waist and twisted hard.
"Owww!" Havel yelped.
"If you have the energy to scream, you're fine!" Rebecca huffed, puffing out her cheeks. "Here! Drink this!"
She pulled a vial of green liquid from her medical pouch and shoved it at him.
"What is this?" Havel eyed the bubbling green sludge suspiciously. "Poison? Are you trying to kill me to inherit my gear?"
"It's an herbal mix!" Rebecca snapped. "It neutralizes neurotoxins and acts as a sedative. Drink it!"
"It looks like Paraquat..."
"DRINK IT!"
She didn't give him a choice. She ripped his gas mask off, pinched his nose, and poured the vile green sludge down his throat.
Billy watched the scene, stepping back a few paces in fear. Note to self: Never get injured around the medic. She's brutal.
"Cough! Cough!"
Havel sputtered. The taste was like mowed grass and rubbing alcohol. But strangely, his head cleared instantly.
Game logic herbs are magic, he admitted to himself.
"Wait!"
Billy interrupted the comedy routine. "The train is still moving. And picking up speed. If nobody is driving this thing... we're going to derail."
The realization hit them like a bucket of ice water. The train was hurtling through the mountains in a thunderstorm, completely unmanned.
"The cockpit!"
They scrambled to the front.
Havel kicked the door open.
Empty.
The wipers slapped against the glass, fighting the rain. The controls were unattended. The throttle was locked forward.
"Damn it," Billy cursed. "Those U.B.C.S. guys must have engaged the auto-drive before they died. Where is this track going? If we hit a curve at this speed, we're dead."
"Don't panic."
Havel spotted a manual lying on the floor.
"Look. There's an emergency brake system."
He flipped through the wet pages.
"Wow. Who designed this? To activate the emergency brakes, one person has to pull the lever here in the engine room... and another person has to pull a second lever in the rear car at the exact same time."
"What kind of genius engineer came up with that?" Havel rolled his eyes. "In an emergency, you expect someone to sprint to the back of the train?"
It was a classic video game puzzle mechanic—illogical but mandatory.
"I'll go," Havel said, grabbing his radio. "Billy, Rebecca. You two handle the front brake. When I give the signal, pull it."
"Got it."
Havel didn't waste time. He sprinted back through the carriages. The zombies he had killed earlier were still dead (mostly), so he had a clear run.
Minutes later, he reached the rear car. He found the console on the back wall.
He grabbed his radio.
"Rebecca! Do you copy? I'm in position."
"Copy!" Her voice crackled back. "We're ready!"
"On my mark. Three. Two. One. PULL!"
Havel slammed the lever down.
SCREEEEE—!!!
Metal shrieked against metal. Sparks showered from the wheels like fireworks. The train shuddered violently as the brakes locked up.
But physics was a cruel mistress.
They were going too fast. The wet rails offered no traction.
The train began to tilt.
"Oh shi—"
Havel grabbed a stanchion and held on for dear life.
The Ecliptic Express jumped the tracks.
It didn't just stop; it drifted. The massive steel serpent slid sideways, plowing through the gravel and smashing through a barricade. It careened into a tunnel entrance leading underground.
CRASH!
The world spun. Metal crumpled. Glass shattered.
Havel felt weightless for a second, then slammed into the wall.
Dejá vu, he thought as darkness took him. Deja vu.