Christopher Fowler - Personal Demons

'Harold, I think your imagination is bypassing your common sense,' Summerfield admonished. 'Let's face it, you've never been much good in a crisis. Let's try and be logical about this. The carriage coupling must have made a noise when it disconnected. Doesn't anyone remember hearing it?'

Masters looked around. 'And what happened to the guard?When I last saw him he was asleep in the end seat there.'

They searched the carriage, not that there were any places where someone could be concealed. The toilet was empty. The six of them were the only passengers left on board. Kallie pulled his coat down from the overhead rack. The others began donning their top coats. As they were doing so, the lights began to dim to a misty yellow. Jane released a miserable moan.

'I was going to stay in tonight,' said Claire, checking her hair in the window. 'There was a weepie on TV. But I decided to join these two. Right now I could be snuggled up indoors with a tub of ice cream watching Bette Davis going blind.'

'Was Dark Victory on tonight?' asked Kallie. 'I love that film.'

'Yeah, but I think it was sandwiched between Curse of the Demon and Tarantula .'

'How can you people just chatter on as if nothing is wrong?' Jane snapped.

'Yeah, you're right,' Claire agreed, 'let's all panic instead. What exactly is in those little pills you're taking, by the way?'

'I also suggest we make for the building further along the line,' said Masters. 'Unless anybody wants to stay here.'

'I've got a torch in my bag,' Kallie offered.

'Well, I'm not stepping foot outside of this carriage.' Jane dropped back into her seat just as the overhead lights faded completely. 'Oh, great .'

'Jane, you cannot stay here.'

'Can't I? Watch me.'

'I just don't think we should split up, that's all.'

'Yeah,' Claire cut in, 'look what happens when they do that in movies. Somebody gets a spear through them.'

'Please, Jane, you're making things awkward.'

'Do whatever you want,' snapped Jane. 'I'm staying here. You can make your own decision for once in your damned life.'

'Then I say we go,' said Masters, hurt.

'You can't leave your wife here by herself,' Summerfield protested.

'You're right, Peregrine. Would you mind staying with her? We shouldn't be gone too long.'

'But I was going to come with you.' He looked hopelessly at Jane, who was clearly anxious for him to stay. 'Oh, all right. We'll wait for you to return.'

'Okay, who else is coming?' asked Masters. The students already had their bags on their backs. 'Are you sure you'll be all right, darling?'

'I'll be fine, I'll settle once you go -'

'This is Southern England in autumn, Harold, not Greenland in January,' said Summerfield. 'Go on, piss off the lot of you, and come back with a decent explanation for all of this.'

The four of them made their way to the end of the carriage, leaving behind Jane Masters and Peregrine Summerfield, who layered themselves in sweaters and nestled beneath an orange car blanket that made them look like a pair of urbanised Buddhist monks.

It was lighter outside. The moon gave the surrounding wooded hills a pallid phosphorescence. A loamy, wooded scent of fungus and decayed leaves hung in the air. The track appeared as a luminous man-made trail in the chaotic natural landscape. They saw that the carriage must have rolled by itself for at least half a mile before coming to a stop at the bottom of the incline. The grass around them was heavily waterlogged, so they stayed in the centre of the track. Kallie kept his torch trained a few feet ahead.

'How far do you think it is?' he asked, pointing to the distant black oblong beside the track.

'I don't know. Half a mile, not much more.'

'We could have a sing-song,' said Masters. 'Claire, what kind of music do you like?'

'Trance techno and hard house,' Claire replied. 'You don't " sing " it.'

'Anyone else know any songs?'

' Please ,' she begged, 'the first person to start singing gets a rock thrown at them. Ben, tell another story, just a short one.'

'Okay,' said Ben. 'The woman it happened to is a friend of my mother's, and she's not nuts or anything. At least,' he added darkly, 'she wasn't until this happened.' And he told the tale of the lottery demon.

'Sounds to me like her boyfriend left her and she couldn't handle it,' said Masters.

Claire gave a scornful hoot. 'Typical middle-aged male viewpoint.'

'So what are we saying here, that for every positive action there is a reaction?' asked Kallie, 'like you can't win without making someone else suffer? Thanks for the morality play.'

'No,' said Ben defensively, 'just that luck works in both directions. Look at tonight. If we hadn't booked the dining car and then stayed late over our meals, if we hadn't joined your table, we wouldn't be in this fucking mess now.'

Something hooted in the rustling hillside at their backs. The black bulk loomed a few hundred yards ahead. Masters was freezing. His left shoe was taking in water. He hated leaving Jane, but knew she was not strong enough to walk through unknown terrain in the dark. 'Don't worry, there will be a logical explanation for this,' he assured the others. 'There always is.'

They reached a concrete ramp and began to climb. 'It's a station,' said Ben, shining his torch ahead. ' Milford . Ever heard of it?'

They climbed on to the platform and approached the low brick box that functioned as the main building. Masters tried the door of the waiting room, but it was locked.

'Do you think it still operates?' asked Claire. 'It's unmodernised. They've got wooden slat benches instead of those curved red steel ones with the little holes. And look at the lights. They've got tin shades.'

'It can't still be used,' said Ben, shining his torch through the window of the ticket hall. 'Take a look at this.' The others crowded around in the halo of light. The ticket machines inside had been vandalised. The timetables were heavy with mildew and drooped down like rolls of badly-hung wallpaper. Several of the floorboards were rotten and had fallen through.

'Can you see a phone?' asked Claire.

'You're joking. If there is one, it's going to be out of service. Try your mobile again.'

A silence. Only the sound of their breath and the wind in the trees while Claire tried to get a service signal. She tipped the device to the light. 'Still nothing.'

'We should at least try to work out where we are. Did anyone see if we passed Exeter?'

'I don't know, Ben,' Kallie suddenly shouted, surprising everyone. 'This was your idea, remember? I'm from the city, I don't visit places with trees unless they're the indoor kind in big pots, like the ones you get in malls. If you told me to expect rabid fruit-bats and rats the size of Shetland ponies I'd believe you because I don't know about outdoor stuff, this is not me , all right?'

'You might have told us before you decided to tag along,' said Claire. 'I'm freezing. What are we going to do?'

'I guess we either walk back to the carriage or pass the night here,' Masters replied.

'I'm not walking all the way back. Anyway, there's no more heat or light in the carriage than there is here. Oh shit, listen to that.' From above came the sound of rain on slates.

'That does it, we all spend the rest of the night in the waiting room,' said Ben firmly. 'It makes the most sense.'

'Oh, you get to decide what's good for everyone, do you?' Claire snapped. 'Of course, you're American .'

'Just what is that supposed to mean?'

'Just that you always boss people about.'

'Only if we know what's best for them.'

'You're trying to make up for being beaten in Vietnam and the Gulf by telling everyone else what to do.'