To Talbot, though on a larger scale, the seats and the layout of the train seemed remarkably similar to trains he had travelled on and abnormally out of place in an alien vessel. “Richard, do you have any idea what the crew looked like?”
“I never saw one, but the other scientists found the well preserved corpse of an alien they thought might have been the Captain. Apparently it was humanoid, taller than humans and, surprisingly, not that scary compared to the other creatures they transported. I’m not sure how much you know, but when the aliens were forced to leave their planet they built an armada of these gigantic Ark ships to evacuate their world. They filled it with a variety of species and plants and set off through space to search for a new planet to inhabit. After the crew had evacuated this one it was damaged by meteoroids and crashed on Earth.”
They moved through a small articulated corridor into a compartment identical to the previous.
“So this spaceship is the alien version of Noah’s Ark.”
Richard shrugged. “I suppose so, though Noah didn’t fill his ship with bloodthirsty monsters.”
The next compartment they entered was absent any seats. A pair of large doors in both side walls indicated the space big enough to fit an articulated lorry in was probably used for transporting cargo.
Three compartments later they arrived at one that gave them the most concern. Cages down the center of the room could only have one function―transporting live cargo. Monsters. Richard kept close to Talbot as they moved down one side, peering through the crisscrossed bars of each cage for any inhabitants. The first, second and third, though occupied, posed no danger; the creatures were a long time dead, nothing but yellowed skeletons. They paused at the fourth and stared at the gaping hole. Unable to get through the cage walls, whatever was once imprisoned here had burrowed through the floor.
Talbot looked at Richard. “Maybe entering the train wasn’t such a bad idea after all.”
Richard grinned and held out a hand. “Does it earn me the rifle as a reward?”
“It wasn’t that good an idea.” Talbot gazed ahead. “Let’s keep moving.”
As they entered the next compartment, another cargo hold, Talbot held up a fist to halt Richard.
“That I understand, but I don’t speak army talk. Anything more complicated you’ll have to verbalize.”
Talbot turned, placed a finger to his lips and shushed.
That, Richard understood.
The two men tilted their heads up at the ceiling and their eyes followed the click-clacks that moved along the roof until it stopped directly above them.
Richard tapped Talbot on the shoulder and pointed through the window at the creature’s shadow cast on the wall by the dim yellow lights stretching the length of the tunnel. It looked more like a spindly tree covered in thin, twiggy branches than any creature either of them could visualize.
Talbot pointed forward. Richard nodded and one careful step at a time they moved through the carriage. They stopped when the click-clacking started up again, moved to the edge of the roof and down the side of the carriage.
Talbot switched off the light when something appeared at a nearby window and looked inside. “Don’t move,” he whispered. “It might not see us and leave.”
Richard huffed softly and whispered back, “Yeah, that’s what’s going to happen. It’s probably got infrared vision or whatever ability it needs to see us in the dark.”
The head turned and looked straight at them.
Richard refrained from telling Talbot ‘I told you so.’
Talbot raised the rifle, switched on the light and aimed it at the creature. Caught in the glare, the creature didn’t move.
The twig-like growths they had first glimpsed from its shadow grew out from along its back and from a silver, almost metallic, head that reflected Talbot’s light. Flat pieces of bone, the hue of ancient parchment, protruded in two lines along either side of its head and the top part of its torso. Exterior bone ribs, tightly packed together, adorned its chest. Its legs, which seemed to surround the body, matched the style of the twig-like appendages on its head and back, though these were slightly thicker and doubled jointed with smaller growths brandishing sharp points spouting from its knee joints. The creature, at three feet long, wasn’t very big, but what it lacked in body mass it made up for with menace that wasn’t lost on the two anxious men.
When it opened its small jaw set on the tip of its long head and let out a series of deep-throated squeaks and clicks, Talbot fired twice. The bullets smashed through the window and tore through the creature’s skull, sending it flying against the wall before it dropped to the ground.
Talbot relaxed. “One wasn’t so bad.”
Richard looked at Talbot and shook his head. “You really need to acclimatize to the way everything in this ship behaves.” He pointed at the recently deceased creature. “That thing won’t be alone. At this very moment hoards of them will be converging towards its call or your gunshots.”
Talbot cocked an ear, but heard nothing to hint Richard’s prediction was about to come true. “You’re paranoid. Nothing’s coming.”
“You keep telling yourself that, but they are coming, trust me, they are coming.”
“We’ll see.” Talbot continued along the train.
Richard glanced back along the train before following. He hoped he was wrong.
When they reached a door that prevented any further progress through the train, Talbot searched for the door control, but soon discovered there wasn’t one. “Stick the knife blade in the join and lever it apart so I can get my fingers in.”
Richard did as instructed and forced the knife to the side, parting the two door sections slightly. Talbot forced his fingers into the gap, placed a foot against the frame and pulled the door open a few inches. Richard gripped the opposite door and together they forced it open and stepped inside the train’s control room. It was obvious by the absence of lights on the wraparound console that the train lacked power. The padded backrest and seat of the large single seat set in the middle of the surrounding console was in better condition than the carriage seating. Richard glanced around for a power switch and spied a small door on the wall labeled with red, alien text, and pulled it open. Inside was a red lever. He was about to shift its position when Talbot stopped him.
“Did you hear that?”
Richard joined Talbot in staring out through the large, age-stained windscreen that curved around the sloped nose of the train. Something in the distance moved in and out of the pools of yellow light.
Richard operated the lever. The train hummed as whatever powered it sprung to life. The console lights flashed on and a bright light filled the tunnel when the train’s single headlight came on. Caught in its blinding glare were more creatures of the type Talbot had just killed.
Now Richard could see them more clearly, they reminded him of Insectoids. He couldn’t remember if they were from a cartoon or a range of toys, but one species were mantis-like aliens―a metamorphosis of an arachnid and a praying mantis―it described these creatures perfectly, though these didn’t move like insects. They raced along the tunnel as gracefully as thoroughbred racehorses.
Richard barged by Talbot and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Now do you believe me?”
“Okay, but it’s not what I’d call a hoard. There’s only about twenty of them.”
“How much ammo do you have left?”
Talbot shrugged. “Probably not enough.”
Richard swept his eyes over the controls. Luckily there weren’t that many and the dials and gauges he could ignore. He had to sit on the front edge of the seat to reach the lever he thought would move the train.