With each new mile, they death defy
2002 01 21
So, we snuck into that dark, black tunnel with the single set of train tracks slicing through it from its silver, arc-sodium tinted gleam, to its murky, dank grey. From where it began at the mouth, to where it disappeared into the gaping gut of slimey stone walls and rotting, dead animals.
Clutching the person in front of me I followed in, trying to place footing in a place where not even those with 20/20 vision could have seen their hand in front of their face.
My foot fell on something ... that gave; something that gave that wasn't loose gravel. It felt slick, like I'd popped something. Like stepping on overripe fruit. The roadkill of a speeding freight train. The roadkill of a speeding commuter train. They're indiscriminate killers both.
So careful, because there's so little room between the edge of the rail ties and the grotesqueness of the tunnel walls. There are sinkholes there along those walls, in cavities built for no known reason we could figure.
Then we felt it.
Then we heard it.
Then we began to run.
Then we could see some distant light shining from behind us as we ran, trying to reach the other end of the tunnel before that great iron and steel beast caught up with us.
We reached the end of the tunnel in time, and flattened ourselves against the walls just in time for the train to speed past us and on its way to nowhere we were going. We were pushed against each other, huddled, arms wrapped around each other, feeling the whipping wind of the passing monster, barely inches from us.