Excerpt
Chapter one


When they said it would not be easy, he didn't believe them, but now? Now he was not so sure. As he was seated on the train to nowhere, he gazed out upon the landscape that flashed before his eyes. Trees flashed him by, with their leaves swishing in the wind. Their branches waving at him as he passed. The flowers bowed their heads to him; petals drooped low in the dim sunlight. The cattle in the fields ignored him, heads to the ground, chewing the cud. The noises of shuffling feet about the train reduced to a low, distant echo. Oblivious to the chattering voices of his fellow passengers, his gaze was fixed upon the cruel world around him. The emptiness, and sorrow that made his world the way it was.
A little old lady made her way to the empty seat beside him, without even looking away from the window; he grabbed hold of his luggage, and clutched it to his chest. He held it tight and secure. He called it luggage, but really it was all he had. His whole worldly possessions placed within one tiny bag. Everything he owned was either upon his person, or within the plastic carrier bag clutched to his chest. Where he was headed, he didn't know. Neither did he care. Where he had come, a life of misery and emptiness trailed rapidly behind him. He left nothing behind, except the pain and discomfort. What lay ahead, was exactly the same. There was no escaping the disasters that built his life. No getting away, from the pain. But maybe, just maybe, things would be different this time around. He hated having to move so much, but it was the only way to evade the terror and postpone the trepidation that little while longer.
He wasn't running from the law. Nor was he running from trouble, but instead, he was running from the past. A past of pain and heartache that somehow managed to catch up with him wherever he went. And whenever it did, he would run again. And await the capture every time.
But still gazing through the open window of the train, his thoughts were blank of his past. The train still whizzing along at such speed, travelling through town and city. Stopping at each station on the way to let people on and off. As the day turned slowly to night, he found himself alone on the now quiet and empty train. The only other life around him was that of the driver and the ticket collector. The train was now almost in darkness, only a shallow light shone out across the train, from two, small bulbs, at either end of the carriage. Low, dark shadows cast about the seats, leaving him in darkness. Only his dark, black, silhouette could be seen, as he still clutched the almost empty bag of his possessions.
Outside among the starry sky, thick black clouds where slowly filling the air. When the first clap of thunder and the flash of lightning streaked across the sky, he didn't even blink. The rain began to pour down from the heavens, as though a door had opened up in the sky. The lightning continued to flash, and the thunder crashed high above his head. The rain pelting down though the still open window soaked him in minutes. But he didn't care. Nothing mattered any more. Nothing mattered at all.
The two, small lights in the carriage, flickered and then went dead. The whole train was now in darkness. A voice rang out in his ear, and he turned towards the words of the deep, heavy, voice.
"Sir? The train ends here sir! You'll have to leave now sir." Without even answering the ticket collector, he rose from his seat and headed toward the door. Bag still clutched tightly to his chest; he headed out into the driving rain that accompanied the storm. With both the dreams and thoughts within his head, and the loud crashing thunder overhead, he didn't hear the voice behind him call.
"Are you OK sir? Sir, is everything all right?"
Instead, he just headed for the old, rotting brown bench beneath the station shelter. Where he sat down once again, to ponder on his thoughts. He had nowhere to go. No money to get there. No foods in which to fill his painfully empty stomach. He was hungry and exhausted, and in desperate need for a wash and shave. But none of these things were available to him, so there was no point in wasting time thinking about them. So with that thought, he leant back upon the hard, damp, wood of the bench. The rain shifted in direction, as though to continue hindering his actions, and drove towards him with it's hard, heavy sting upon his face. Penetrating even through his thick, warm waterproof Mac, sending a chilling wet sensation to his skin. But he was too tired to bother searching for a drier place to rest, and with that, he gently closed his eyes, and drifted of to sleep.
It seamed like hours had passed, but actually, it had only been a few moments. He awoke from his light sleep with a start, and wiped the cold rainwater from his face. The scurrying of tiny feet scattered the platform, mice running to and throe to hide out of sight. The rain was still pounding down upon him and the thunder still crashed overhead. He didn't know what had awoke him, and could see no one else around, so he shifted his position, laid his bag down upon the bench and rested his head there once more. But try as he might, he could no longer rest. The night air had turned bitterly cold, and had penetrated his skin. If he didn't find somewhere to dry off soon, pneumonia would set in.
With slow, awkward steps, he stumbled off towards the glow of street lamps in the distance. He struggled to keep his balance, as his feet were sore and painful. For a brief moment, he clutched hold of a tree to aid his strength, but the action was to prove fatal. For as he held the tree trunk with wet gripping hands, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, heading in his direction. As he looked up from his feet, at the exact same time the lightning struck. Hitting the tree with burning force, setting it ablaze. The tree began to tumble, and he was helpless to escape. He tried to scream out for help, but his voice was weak, and his words wore none. The huge tree began to fall, down, down, down. Only stopping when it landed with and almighty thud upon the ground. Beneath it, lay a broken and breathless man. He managed to lift his head just high enough to see the street lamps that he was stumbling towards, when this freak of nature occurred. His head began to get heavy; the lights swirled around wildly in his eyes. He tried so hard to remain awake, but the pain in his legs was so intense. He could not feel his arms, and his vision began to fade. As he stretched out his arm in one final attempt to reach for help, a tear formed in his sad and lonely eyes, and all was black.