Bruno Crane
The Friend
The mountainside hurtles up at me through the windscreen of the driver’s cabin as the train plunges down the track.
It feels like I’m clinging to the back of some wild beast and I’m half out of my mind with terror but I’ve made it out of that godforsaken place at least – and in the nick of time.
I’ve lost most of the gold but I’ve got my freedom, for now.
Seems my ambitions have shrunk to that. At least when you’re used to having nothing it’s no great shock to return to it.
The train shudders around me. I grip hold of the lever for some pretence of control, though I haven’t a clue what I’m doing.
Can’t quite believe I got the thing started in the first place and it’s definitely on the fast side, but I suppose that’s what the rails are for.
I’ve no bloody idea how I’ll ever stop it, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
For now, I risk a glance over my shoulder at the hotel, receding around the bend. Goodbye and good riddance to that hellish place.
The old cog mechanism is damn loud – clack-clack, clack-clack, clack-clack! – so it takes me a moment to realise that I can hear someone shouting my name.