“There’s gotta be something you can do, I mean isn’t there some sort of airport or bus or something?” I turned looking around the deserted train station for any sign of a solution. The man behind the desk shrugged, “That’s one of the short comings of small towns. There’s not another train coming through until late tomorrow.” He slid the ticket across the counter. I sighed but resigned to taking the ticket sliding it between the pages of the book jutting out of my bag. “Is there somewhere I can spend the night?” He popped off the stool he’d been on giving away how short he really was and waddled around the desk making his way towards the door. He pushed open the door and pointed down the road. “There’s a bed and breakfast about a mile down the road” “A mile?” He shrugged, “Maybe a little more.” I groaned as he waddled back to his stool. Stooping to pick up my bag, I threw it over my shoulder. “Thanks…” He grumbled or burped, I couldn’t tell which, and I stepped out into the dark peering down the road. The air was cooling off as fall had begun to ascend. I could barely see the road beneath the leaves and the last few firefly’s of summer glowed intermittently. My phone rang and I pulled it out still walking. My mother. “Hey, I’m stuck in this little town tonight and I’ll arrive really late tomorrow night or early the day after.” “What happened? I tried calling you hours ago.” “I fell asleep and missed my stop.” “Honey, what’s going on? Finnick won’t stop calling… he’s really worried about you and…” “Well I’m not his problem anymore so tell him to mind his own.” “Just because you walked out doesn’t mean he just stops caring.” “I didn’t walk out I… I don’t know what I did really, but it’s fine I’ll be there and I’ll call you.” “Wait-“ I hung up suppressing the sting behind my eyes and pressure in my throat. If I let it come crashing down on me now, I’d be sleeping on the side of the road. Finnick was still in California, he wasn’t important right now. I just needed to find this persons house and sleep. I focused on my breathing, on the sound of grasshoppers, on the stars peaking through the trees. I focused on anything outside of myself because inside I was already gone.

The house was exactly what anyone would expect. Eclectic and Victorian, a grandmas house from the most cliche corners of society’s mind. I stepped inside and the foyer smelled like old books. “Just a minute!” The voice was young and melodic. A teenage girl traipsed down the stairs smiling. “You need a room?” I nodded confused. She took my bag and led me upstairs babbling about how they rarely got any guests and her mother and grandmother had gone out leaving her to watch the house. “Granny thinks we charge 20 a night but momma says it’s 50 and she always asks guests not to mention it. Granny never understood inflation so momma stepped in to make sure no one took advantage of her.” She let me in a room at the top of the stairs and set my bag on the bed. It was small but clean and most importantly the first space I’d seen free of figurines. “Just yell if you need anything.” She smiled and left closing the door behind her. I grabbed my book dropping onto the bed and kicked my shoes off. I drifted off before I’d even finished a chapter.

“Quick quick we will be late at the again train” I said loudly “rush”said my friend Elton.Let me me tell you all about it,We have went to a town that we never been their before because we accidentally went on a different train and fell asleep and we even didn’t notice.The train will be arrived at tomorrow so we need a job but when we search around it is just so strange no people no houses no trees,But we need food and where we slept but I suddenly remember that our luggage has been left on the train that hurt my heart.

We walked and walked then something unusual happened on the things I said before had appeared we raise to MC Donald to eat chicken hunberger but we didn’t had money so we sneak out.we planed to rob the bank and stole $100,000,000 and bought thing so we marked a gun and went into the bank.

Bang

Bang

Bang

all the people had hide we called loudly “GIVE US ALL YOUR MONEY OR ELSE I’M GONNA KILLED YOU GUYS ONE BY ONE” they give us all their money and we count,out of our imagination they gives us $900,000,000,0 that is the best,We first bought a villa and then bought 10 supermarket.

It night time we slept,the day after we rush to the train station,we wait and wait finally the train arrive we quickly rush to it because we maybe are late.

“Fell asleep on the southbound car, eh?” A burly tanned man in a heavy fur-lined grey coat and wide-brimmed white hat took my hand in his, shaking vigorously. He was the one who had woken me up from my sleep once the train arrived. Sheriff Ryke, he called himself, him and his thick Texan accent. He was the only one in town who had such an accent. He claimed I fell asleep on the wrong train and was the sole passenger, but that couldn’t have been correct. I even had picture evidence of myself in front of the packed cars before I boarded the eastbound continental. The train in question was definitely not a steam train like the one I woke up in. I’m hyper-specific when I travel. But there I was, talking to the sheriff of the appropriately named ‘Southtown.’

“Last time any of you showed up was some three years ago. Irregardless, welcome to your new home, stranger!” He shook my hand for what had to be almost two minutes, maybe longer, before he let go and motioned for me to follow him into town. The place looked… off. Dust stung my eyes every few minutes, the sun heated the paved sidewalks to the point it hurt through my shoes, and everyone wore clothing suited for snow rather than sun. Even in a simple loose tee, I was sweating within minutes of leaving the train. The roads were dirt lined with the buildings which were a mix of wood and concrete. The people rode everything from horses to carriages and even cars newer than my 2015 Lancer. Hell, I still don’t fully understand this town and I more or less run the place.

We walked and talked for a while before stopping next to the sheriff's office, one of the concrete buildings. “The last fella to join our corner of the world took residence up in the building on the hill above town, but that was the last available home… So, I’ll make a call or two, set you up in somebody’s guest room for a few weeks, and have a shiny new house made specially for you in no time. Good with you, stranger?”

“A new home? No, no I’ll just be heading back on the southbound once it comes back tomor—“

“Pardon my manners! I haven’t even asked you your name, stranger. So, What do ya go by?” Talking to Ryke is always a test of patience even on a good day. Doubly so for that first conversation.

“I… it’s Jace, but I won’t be staying longer than a day so please don’t worry about it.”

“Nonsense! That’s what they all said, but each an’ every one of our guests spent a single night and decided to spend their lives here.” He placed a hand on my shoulder and tried to bring me in for a hug. I pulled away. His grip was shockingly powerful, not that my spaghetti strength was doing me any favours.

“I would really, really like to leave tomorrow. Can you tell me—“

“Hey, Ryke! That a new guest you got there?” A tall woman strolled up to us, the first person I had seen who was appropriately dressed. She wore a beige hat over long blond hair, a hat similarly styled to Ryke’s, and a loose brown vest over a blue tee. Her skin was dark on top of an appropriately heavy tan. If it were a movie, I’d have thought she was the real sheriff.

“Sure is, Ranger. I gotta find him a place to stay while we build a new home for em.” Ryke said.

“No need, Ryke. You’ll be rooming with me tonight, friend.” Supposedly, I’m the only one who knows her real name. But at the time I thought she just went by her occupation.

“We couldn’t put you out like that! I’ll make the calls and find someone, but if you’d be so kind as to show him around town, that’d be mighty helpful.” Ryke pulled in Ranger for a hug and pat her on the back.

“You got it, boss.” She gave him a thumbs-up, turned to me, and smiled. Something was wrong with her smile, or maybe it was her bright blue eyes. They made me feel unsafe. “So friend, what’s your name?” She tapped her hand against my arm and began to walk away.

“Uh, it’s Jace. I woke up on a different train than the one I got on. Though I don’t think Ryke believes that.” I wiped the sweat from my forehead, she must have noticed as she took a water bottle off of her belt and tossed it to me. I fumbled the catch.

“Careful who you tell the real story, friend.” Her warning took me off guard, the situation was certainly weird and uneasy but I didn’t think it was outright hostile. She stopped walking to warn me before continuing a few seconds later. “My house is up on the hill, I’m sure the boss mentioned me by now. I was a pretty big deal for a while there when I first arrived. Name’s Ranger, by the way, that wasn’t just a title.”

While we walked I couldn’t help but notice the passersby staring at us, at me. It wasn’t just glances, they would stare me down until we got out of sight. They weren’t discreet about it either. If I had spent any more time there, I likely would have had to fight off a panic attack. Ranger told me not to worry and that they’d get used to me by the end of the week, I once again insisted I wouldn’t be there long. She just gave me a ‘hm’ and went silent. I have yet to meet a single person in this place who has given me a fine first impression.

Main street was shockingly busy, with plenty of people walking, shopping, and rebuilding; it looked like a tornado had run through town. Buildings had missing walls, broken windows, and plenty of recent repairs done to them. Strangely, no less than four of those buildings were animal clinics even though I saw no animals. In the centre of town is the main attraction. A massive floating green rock bobbed several feet off the ground, with several far smaller rocks placed around town, resting on the ground. It was awe-inspiring, honestly. Not so much now though, just thinking about it makes me feel anxious.

Eventually, we arrived at her house up on the hill. The house was nothing special, just a decent-sized log cabin, but behind it, the hill continued up into the clouds. That portion was not visible from below. Ranger showed me into her home and to the guest room before sitting me down in the living room. The cabin was homely, dim lamps and a fireplace lit up the living and bedrooms, as well as the kitchen and washroom, covering everything in an orange-tinted blanket. The walls were spotted with paintings she had made, most of them fantastical land and cityscapes.

“Phew. Now, friend, tell me your story. Why are you here?” I told her the long and short of it. From getting on the eastbound continental to visit my sister, to my time on the train, and waking up here. She nodded, and then there was silence.

“So…”

“Friend, I’m going to bet my life on yours. This town is only the tip of the iceberg, and I got urgent business far below so I need you to help me. You gotta blow up the giant crystal in town square while I’m gone. This is a matter of life and death, for more than just us.“ I would have been shocked and refused had I the time. A knock on the door was followed by a slam, forcing it open. Sheriff Ryke stormed in.

“Ranger, I have an urgent job for you. Sorry stranger, I’ll find you a place before the end of the day.” He gave her little chance to argue or decline, gripping her arm tight as he walked with her back outside. She pleaded to me with her eyes as she was forced away. And so I sat there, tasked with committing what may as well be a terrorist attack on a town I had just arrived at. The thought of it all made me weak, to the point that I passed out on Ranger’s couch. In retrospect, it’s no surprise they stare at me even to this day.

The monotonous grind of steel rolling along the railway filled the passenger car with a low metallic hum. On most nights, the small talk amongst riders was loud enough to drown out the sound, but that wasn’t the case tonight. Only a few people were scattered about. A few rows away, a six year old lay sprawled on the empty seat beside her mother, whose vacant stare suggested she was as disconnected from the world as her daughter. In the back of the car sat a twenty something, his eyes glued to the cell phone held in his hands. If the train had been more crowded, I would have struck up a conversation or eavesdropped on someone else’s while I stared out the window at the landscape as it zipped by. I would have noticed that the train wasn’t moving in the usual direction. Instead, the steady vibration of the speeding train, combined with the whoosh of its movement, lulled me to sleep.

When the train stopped at its final destination, the conductor shook me awake. Discombobulated, I tried to get myself together before standing to exit the train. The lights in the adjoining cars were turned off. He and I were the only two who remained. My apathy towards leaving irritated the conductor, whose face was twisted in a disgruntled grimace. He was not happy. While my eyes adjusted to the lights, he prodded me with an exhaled sigh of impatience. It was time to go.

The lights in the train switched off as soon as I stepped onto the platform. The conductor exited behind me and hurried towards the parking lot. My surroundings unfamiliar, I called out and asked for help.

“I got off at the wrong stop,” I shouted. “Where am I?”

With a dismissive wave of his hand, he continued walking. After pulling out of the parking lot, he leaned out the opened window and flipped his middle finger in my direction before driving off.

“So much for customer service,” I thought.

I looked around but didn’t find any recognizable landmarks or signs. The sun was about to dip below the horizon for the night but the street lights hadn’t yet turned on. I was surrounded by dusky shadows. In the distance, a neon sign flickered, advertising the Metro Diner. The phrase “24 hours” was also illuminated so I headed in that direction. After arriving at its parking lot, I learned that most of the lettering on the sign was burned out.

I stepped inside and looked around, to make sure the place was still accepting customers. The restaurant was dimly lit and appeared to be closed, even though many patrons remained seated inside. If nothing else, I hoped they’d allow me to recharge my cellphone or call a cab. As I entered the diner, a party of six exited.

The hostess looked towards the entranceway and said, “Good riddance.”

“They must have stiffed them on a tip,” I thought before asking if they were still serving meals.

“Didn’t you see the sign?” she asked, pointing towards the parking lot. “Table or booth?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She looked at me confused, as if unwilling to make the selection, and said, “Well?”

“Booth.”

Ignoring my request, she rolled her eyes and guided me to the counter near the kitchen. After ordering a chicken salad sandwich and a cup of coffee, I plugged in my phone and looked around. Although there were light fixtures throughout the restaurant, the dimmer switch was set low for ambiance, I assumed. No one seemed to notice or maybe they were used to it. Between the conductor and hostess, I hadn’t felt welcomed at all, so thought better than to ask if they were trying to conserve electricity. Besides, I still had to figure out where the train dropped me off.

When a waitress other than the one who took my order placed a large glass of iced tea in front of me, I said, “That’s supposed to be coffee.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She retreated into the kitchen leaving the iced tea where it sat. Four pots of coffee were on the counter opposite from where I sat. I felt taunted, both by the coffee and the waitress. The pots were beyond my reach, plus I didn’t see any cups, so I nursed the iced tea until my coffee arrived. The sugary sweetness of the tea jolted me awake, as much if not more than the caffeinated coffee would have. Ten minutes later, when she dropped off my plate, she again forgot the coffee. To compound the issue, instead of serving the sandwich I ordered, the chicken salad was wrapped in a tortilla.

“This is supposed to be a sandwich, not a wrap.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” she explained before disappearing again.

I looked around to see if anyone else was having problems with their orders. None of the plates delivered to the other tables had been returned. When it came to my waitress, in the competency lotto, it seemed I had lost. Fifteen minutes later, the waitress was still nowhere to be found so I settled on eating what was given to me. I greedily bit into the wrap only to find it wasn’t chicken salad. It was a Mediterranean veggie wrap. I was beginning to understand why that group from earlier didn’t tip the staff.

With my phone charged, I loaded the maps app to figure out how best to get home. When the name of the city popped up, my jaw dropped. It was someplace I didn’t want to be. Metropolitan Hamlet. I had heard of the place but never visited, with good reason. A century earlier, the founding fathers decided to experiment with the governance of the town. Everyday was Opposite Day. Anything said or done was to be interpreted as the opposite of its original meaning. Hello meant goodbye. Opened meant closed. An obscene gesture of contempt was a welcoming greeting of acceptance.

When the waitress dropped off my bill, I ordered another glass of sweet tea, to confirm the accuracy of the map. She brought me coffee.

“It’s on the house,” she said while scribbling the additional charge onto the bill.

I finished my coffee and trudged towards the cashier. When asked how the meal was, I rolled my eyes and said nothing which said everything without uttering a word.

After entering the charges into the cash register, the girl behind the counter said, “$ 15.45”

In an attempt to beat the system, I responded using the vernacular of the area. The amount charged wasn’t going to be paid from my wallet. Based upon my interpretation, the diner owed me, not the other way around. With my hand held out, I pointed to my palm.

“Yes. I’m paying you. I’m paying you.”

“The meal was free,” she said with disgust.

I shook my head from side to side in agreement and walked out the door without paying. The hostess offered cheerful words of encouragement as I exited.

If only they had taken the other train. Then maybe they wouldn’t have been trapped in this strange town.

But they keep walking, hearing the crunch of the gravel beneath their feet. The sky is bluer here, farther out in the country where they hadn’t expected. Thick white clouds are floating high in the air. There seems to be a gentle breeze bristling along the warm air.

A couple walks before them, elderly, hand in hand. People wave to one another. An old man in front of a rusty firetruck sits in a chair with a cigarette. People seem to be talking to everyone.

And when someone holds open the door to go inside the diner, with a sweet “honey” added, they wonder if maybe this place won’t be so bad after all.

Your name please young lady the train attendant said with attitude of indifference as she curtsied with the utmost respect “holly valentine” she said as looked at the man’s glasses the man gave her a ticket supposedly to her destination Lockhart a Beautiful town and kingdom that at the moment was facing a crisis a political one that’s deciding the next in-line princess which she Terra Barron princess of Lockhart was part of.

Terra walked around looking for the train number on the ticket but was too worried about the riff-raff commoners that bumped into her. She and him fell down together along with everything they held “Owww the heck” “Watch where you going” the man balked as quickly gathered everything together and just as quickly left.

“The heck was his deal he was the one who should’ve watched his step” she said now glaring at the man who just got on the train. “Whatever” and she looked at her ticket train number which was number 413 she looked until she found it,had her ticket stamped, and got on the train.

The train inside looked fancy A normal thing for first class she sat down and thought of her predicament

Terra Barron (or her alias Holly Valentine) had a rough childhood being the third princess or so others called the forgotten princess so the possibility like being queen was a long shot but according to her letter she read before coming here. The first Princess was assassinated with a poison tart The assailant is at large making the second princess next in line except based on a New Royal law such a circumstance like this if there are still multiple Royals around they are allowed to have equal representation until the noble faction decides on a candidate.

Terra was determined to take this shot perform well at the evaluation they’ll put her through she smiled as her eyes closed saving her energy so that when she gets to her destination she would have to use all her strength, little does she know she would but in another way altogether.

She was awoken by a roughly by a train attendant “all right end of the line” She was groggy at first then saw it was dark out and not the same darkness of Lockharts scenery but of a unknown place “are we here?” she said.

The train attendant who looked older than the one she met earlier gave her a glare that matched her own crankiness “what do you mean are we here? you’re at Hellios the place on your ticket”

Her denying the reality of the situation shot back “no my ticket is to Lockhart I never even heard of a place name Helios”, this was partially false as she knew it was a place most people would not want to be in considering it was the place of a killer‘s hometown and a thieving and gambling paradise.

The old man took her ticket flip the back and matched his own official records “hmm this is funny but is your name Luke Sayre” he said with a questioning look.

“No my name is “Terr… “ she forgot her alias for a moment “Holly Valentine” she said now scared of what this could mean

OK young lady what I’m bout to tell you is something I never had happened in all my years riding the train, whatever happened that led to you switching tickets or something of that matter the main thing is that this train is not running now and will be running in the afternoon tomorrow due to maintenance because of some intern fucked up somewhere and didn’t check your ticket for you it is our fault that this happened so the next train back will be free of charge.

“Is there anyway you can take me to Lockhart tomorrow she said tears in her eyes” “Not directly but you could go back the way you came from there and then go to Lockhart”.

She wiped her tears and held the tears that were coming out but said nothing the town looked like it had some history equal to royalty but it was also rough to look at.

“There should be an inn somewhere in that place over there” he pointed to a big house with the sign saying Gia inn.

Terra still frightened said nothing but walked out of the train towards the inn.

“Calm down Terra all I have to do is survive” her exhausted.

One day a girl got on a train, but it was the wrong train. It happened to her late at night so she was tired, and she fell asleep. Then she ended up in a random town, not knowing what to do. soon she realizes she could just take another train back but there are no more trains going places until tomorrow morning so she stays there and sleeps there

I decided to take the train home, instead of getting my usual ride, from my co worker. I just got a new, exciting novel, and Wanted a good read. If I took the car ride home, all the way, was constant chatter, and talk, about her date last night, and what She was going to do on her day off. My peaceful mind needed a break, so here I sit,on this nearly empty train.

My new novel, started out,as a man, going on a long distance trip, just him and his dog, named Max. The fun loving dog, Loved to travel, and they lucked out, as their trip was on a silver bullet train. Yes, dogs were allowed, on this certain trip. My story got better, and I soon fell asleep, dreaming about the rolling hills, and Max with his floppy ears, and wet nose, Eagerly looking out the glass window.

A loud, whistling shriek, woke me up from my slumber, and I noticed that it was very dark outside, with not a star in sight. The only other person, on this train was the ticket taker, who shook my shoulder, and ‘yelled to me, last stop, time to Exit this train, this ride is officially over’. I grabbed my bag and book, and me and my sleepy self, stumbled off this train, And stepped to the platform, with unsteady legs.

I turned to ask the taker of the tickets, where I was, but he just nodded, and suddenly disappeared, along with this mystery Train and its tracks. The only thing I saw at that point, was the old, ancient, rusty sign, swinging back and forth, creaking With the non wind, I felt. I started to walk, in the only direction, that there was, and noticed a very small town, with one Street light, and next to it, a small cafe with a red, flickering lighted sign, saying ‘open for life’

I walked in that direction, and opened the door, with a small rusty bell, above it,announcing my arrival and it looked empty. The first thing I could smell, was the rich odor, of strong coffee. What I saw next, made my stomach turn, and flip and Flop a few times around. There was the biggest apple pie, that I have ever seen, it must of been at least 25 pounds or so. Now behind the counter, I couldn’t believe my eyes, I had to blink twice, and open my peepers, and still not thinking or Believing this sight. There was two children,not older than 7 or 8 years old, smiling at me, and they spoke, asking me if I wanted pie and coffee. All I could do was nod my head, and eagerly await my midnight snack. I pulled out my wallet, And they both said’ no payment allowed tonight, stranger eats for free’.

I politely said my thanks, and started to eat and drink my free meal. ‘Is there another train coming by here, at all, since The last one disappeared,with the ticket taker?’ Their reply was,’he wouldn’t eat the pie, so we made him go away and Die’. Their words gave me the shivers, but I kept on eating to save my life, and asked for a second cup of coffee. They Both smiled, as I realized, that I might not be going back home after all.

All I could do was eat and drink, and wait to see what the daylight brought to me, as I sat in that cafe of life, and read my New novel,to the children behind the counter, about the traveling dog named’Max’

Jeremiah slid the gilded door and stuck his head into the corridor. New electricity buzzed yellow in their bulbs. The train had stopped, the floor stagnant, the dark windows paintings of the world outside.

He had fallen asleep. The remnants of his hastily cooked chicken sandwich had spewed across the velvet seat, having fallen from his lap in his slumber, staining his black trousers, and a ghost of a headache throbbed above his right eyebrow.

Stepping from his compartment, the soles of Jeremiah’s slippers sunk half an inch into the white carpet.

How peculiar, he thought; he was certain it had been ruby when he embarked.

Dark panelling followed the white line, and after shutting his door with a hollow click, Jeremiah followed it right in the hope of finding someone—anyone.

Silence stalked him like a phantom. Every compartment he checked, yet discovered no one. Perhaps the train had arrived at its last stop, and by the company's fault, no one had come to collect him, leaving him. Jeremiah huffed—utter shambles

He made his way down to the car. Two rows of seats replaced the compartments, the white carpet continuing down the centre. Still, he found no evidence of life. No trunks or luggage or—

A shape shifted in one of the seats—the back of a woman's head. Jeremiah headed toward her.

“Madam,” he breathed, “praise the holy! Might I enqui...” Jeremiah stopped. “Madam?”

The woman didn't stir, did move. Blank, grey eyes stared forward, her brown hair fastened in a tight knot on her head. Skin so pale, Jeremiah could see the blue of her veins stretched over her sharp cheekbones, the collar of her tar-black dress curled right up to her jaw.

“Madam,” Jeremiah tried again, ”are you quite well?”

Without a word, the woman stood, and as Jeremiah stepped back, she walked silently down the aisle.

“Pardon me. Madam? Ma—” He hurried after the woman and just caught the faint slither of her dress as it disappeared through the train's side door. He halted a brief moment of uncertainty before following.

Pure iridescence blinded the world outside like an impassable fog. White surrounded him, and all that was left was the silver gleam of the steam train behind and a single wooden table—so unremarkable in looks, Jeremiah almost missed the slip of paper on its top. Cursive letters bled over the page, and Jeremiah read the words:

         ‘Mortem Agmen Express, 
       Every twelve hours or more. 
                         One way.
                    Next at 0300.’

“Nonsense,” Jeremiah mumbled, and he brushed away the sheet. “Never heard of the like.”

Goosebumps prickled the skin of his arms, and Jeremiah shivered. Cold air brushed his cheek just from sight; a black streak tainted the white.

The woman lept forward, and pain smarted over Jeremiah’s back as nails buried into his shoulders. Breath like ice spat against his ear, and the woman hissed. “Stay the night,” she whispered. “Wait for the train.”

Sudden static crackled, and Jeremiah tumbled. The woman released him, and white folded around him, wrapping tightly over his body like cloth. His chest heaved, suffocating, and his legs buckled, collapsing beneath him...

...he woke with a start, sprawled on the floor of his compartment.

Boots thumped down the corridor as people walked by, and the sharp tang of steam stung his nose. An ache throbbed throughout his body, his shoulders, and as he stumbled to his feet, he glanced out the window. Sunlight saturated the cobbled station platform, the sky painting-perfect blue.

Perhaps it had all been a dream? A nightmare?

The compartment door opened, and Jeremiah jumped as a gloved hand extended out.

“Ticket, sir.”

Jeremiah’s fingers shook as he fumbled in his jacket pocket and pulled out the yellow slip. The man studied the ticket, his furrowed eyes passed over Jeremiah’s soiled sandwich, and then handed it back.

“I’m afraid this ticket isn't valid for this train,” he said. “May I escort you off?”

“Please!” Jeremiah implored, “Where is the closest phone box? I believe I’ll fair better in a taxi.”

This is the worst nightmare for many. Now poor Billy must make his way through unfamiliar parts. The townspeople are unkind to him. No one wants to help him rest. They don’t take kindly to strangers. There are far too many outlaws around these parts.

The sheriff approaches him, asks for his name. He gives it willingly and asks where he can rest for the night. The sheriff takes him to the jailhouse and locks him away.

The sheriff waves a wanted poster in Billy’s face. It’s his face. Confused and scared he has no choice but to wait for the morning.

The townspeople gather around the jailhouse awaiting the sentencing.

Death.

Billy waits for the sound of the trigger and just as the click is made he bends down and grabs his gun out his boot. He turns and shoots the sheriff.

He grabs the dead sheriff’s gun and uses that to fire at the crowd. Howling with joy as he keeps scoring more hits.

Billy loves playing the game of his own invention “Random Stop and Shoot” who knows which town will greet him tomorrow, but first before the train arrives in an hour. Time to reload.