Catching the train.

“Are you there, God? It’s me…”

I don’t know if I said it out loud or in my head but either way, I was down to God saving my ass as the yeti reached in to grab at me. It’s razor-sharp claw ready to shred me to ribbons.

I was stuck in this upside-down car, awkwardly positioned with no way out.

If I had time, I could reposition myself and crawl out the broken window, but I was mere seconds away from becoming stock in the yeti’s soup.

But I didn’t have time and my only saving grace was the yeti was so big it couldn’t properly get into the cabin, so it had to reach in.

Well that and the fact it was too stupid to realise it could rip off the driver’s side door and yoink me out like it was picking apples.

The yeti’s roar echoed in the cabin, and I tried to make myself as small as possible as the tip of its claw sliced through my jacket like a hot knife through butter.

In the back of my mind I wondered how they kept them so sharp. Do they scratch trees like Lions or something? Probably gouge chunks out of rocks. The image of a yeti sitting at a grindstone sharpening its claw popped into my mind and it was all I could do to not giggle.

Even in the face of death I could find time to amuse myself.

The claw moved ever so closer, ripping another length down my jacket.

I closed my eyes, unwilling to face my untimely end. I cursed Brady for his stupid ski dare and myself for trying to think I was some sort of Indiana Jones adventurer. And finally I cursed those bloody Nazis for opening a science lab under a mountain in the Italian alps. They, I daresay, are the reason these monsters are here.

Why? 

I don’t know.

How?

I also don’t know.

Either way, I was doomed to never find out.

The yeti roared, but it wasn’t as loud. It sounded like it came from outside the truck. I opened one eye to see the yeti disappear from view in a white blur. There were more roars, but it sounded different, and I realised there were two different sounding ones.

They were competing against each other. Getting louder and louder, and I figured they were trying to out-alpha each other, either way, I wasn't going to wait around and find out.

I rolled to the side, my body coming down onto the roof of the truck - which was the bottom - and looked around. My window was shattered. I could climb through it.

The truck rocked, something slammed into it, and it spun around. Whatever hit it, it was big. I figured the yetis were not playing nice with each other. Fighting over who gets to eat me for lunch.

Or dinner.

I really had no idea what time of the day it was. Or how long I had been down here.

Right now it didn’t matter.

The truck rocked and rolled, and through my window I saw more yetis were bounding over. They joined in the fracas and the truck took most of the beating. It spun around, and rocked, as the yetis fought. Out the broken window I saw the Nazi train, steam pouring out its stack, the yetis had given up on it and the coast was clear.

If only I could get out of this truck-turned-rollercoaster ride from hell.

I reached out and tried to unlock the door, but the frame was bent and the door was stuck.

“Shit,” I muttered. I tried pressing against it with my shoulder, but I couldn’t get enough purchase, not while the truck was upside down.

I would have to crawl through. I broke the rest of the glass, clearing it away as best I could, and commando crawled. As soon as my head was out the window, a yeti roared.

This one sounded closer, like it was in the cabin with me.

I looked back.

There was a yeti reaching out for me. Apparently, this was the winner of the ‘eat-me-for-dinner raffle.

I curled myself into a ball, tucking my legs in as the yeti reached out, trying to grab at me. As soon as it was near, I kicked out as hard as I could, catching it on the back of its furry paw.

It pulled its paw back. It looked shocked, like it was surprised this puny lunch was fighting back.

Then it roared again and lifted the truck.

My world rolled and tumbled as the truck lifted and flipped, landing on its side and then tipped back on to its wheels. I landed on the leather seats in a puff of dust.

I groaned, my head feeling all fuzzy.

The yeti roared and reached in, but I kicked again and then basically flopped out of the window like a worm. I landed with a heavy thud on the stone floor and rolled under the truck just as the yeti leapt on top of it.

From my view I saw the train, so close yet so far, and the legs of half a dozen or so yetis. They were approaching the truck. I could hear the alpha jumping on the roof, the metal squealing in protest. The others joined in, jumping on it, rocking and rolling the truck. They reminded me of gorillas. Big, white, scarier-than-normal gorillas.

Then a screeching of metal pierced the air and the yetis stopped. I could feel the tension from them as they wondered what that was.

Then the train began to move.

I blinked. Sure I was imagining it, but no. The carriages gave a sharp jolt and a dull, metallic grind as they started rolling forward.

Slowly at first. The carriage in front of me - one of the animal cages - disappeared out of view, and then a passenger carriage, and then a flat carriage. 

Who the hell was driving the train? It didn’t matter, that train was my only chance out of here. If I didn’t get it, then I was as good as yeti dinner.

The yetis had the same idea and at once they leapt off the truck and charged at the carriages. As they did, I rolled out from under the truck and took off. I headed away from the yetis, heading to the front of the train. I had to get to the cabin before they did.

The train’s momentum picked up and further down the track I saw the steam engine disappear into the tunnel. My legs were feeling like jelly, my energy sapping, but I pushed as hard as I could. Reaching out to grab hold of one of the animal cage bars. My gloved fingers brushed the bars. I tried grabbing hold of one of them, but they were just out of reach. 

The tunnel entrance was getting closer now. It was narrow with a man-made arch made from stone blocks. It was wide enough for the train and not much else.

The train continued moving and I could hear the thundering echoing of the wheels on the tracks as it entered the tunnel. 

I was running out of time, and energy.

I reached out again, my fingers hooking on the bars, but I couldn’t get a grip.

The arch was closer now. Less than 50 metres and I knew this was my last chance. My legs were like jelly, and I could feel the desire to just give up creeping into my mind. It would be so much easier to stop running and curl up into a ball and sleep. Even the solid stone floor looked comfortable right now.

The satchel I carried over my shoulder banged into my hip with each step. Reminding me of the jar I found. Reminding me that I had made an amazing discovery.

I felt a burst of adrenaline. A final, last-ditch attempt to catch this train and get the hell out of here.

The arch was close, 20 metres if that, and I reached out again. My fingers wrapped around the metal bar of the cage, and I pulled myself towards it, grabbing another bar. I was briefly pulled along, airborne, before I managed to get a foot onto the base, and then a second. I pressed myself into the bars as tightly as I could, trying to melt into them like the T-1000.

I closed my eyes just as I reached the tunnel entrance. I felt the closeness of the stone arch, grazing my jacket, but I was through. The tunnel widened slightly, giving me enough room to unpress myself from the bars.

The tunnel was dimly lit with the same bulbs from the cavern. They were sparsely spaced and some were blown, creating a hauntingly yellow haze with deep shadows.

Now that I was on the train I had to get to the front. I had to find out who was driving the train. I had no idea where this tunnel led and if it was clear the entire way. 

And I had no idea if the yeti’s climbed aboard, and if so, how many.

With some space and a goal in mind, I shimmied across the cage. It was slow going but not difficult; reach out, slide foot out and into a new slot between bars and pull myself across. Repeat.

I reached the end of the carriage and pulled myself around to the front of it where it joined with a passenger carriage. The passenger carriage was a simple wooden box with an open doorway and windows. Dual light bulbs, one of either end of the carriage swayed, casting it in creepy shadows.

I hesitated, the step wasn’t far, maybe one giant step, but with the swaying of the carriages, the blowing wind and the dim light, one misstep could spell my doom. 

Taking one deep breath, I did a half step-half leap across the coupling and landed awkwardly, stumbling through the carriage door and sprawling to the floor on top of some bags, kicking up a cloud of dust.

Coughing, I rolled off the bags and gave a start.

They weren’t bags. They were bodies. Half a dozen of them, wearing brown uniforms with the swastika on the shoulder. I rolled off them and sat back, my heart in my mouth. 

Once I had my heart, and my breathing, under control, I stood up and looked at them. They were Nazis, or used to be anyway. I initially thought they’d been killed by the yetis, why else would they be here but their uniforms, while moth-ridden, would have been ripped to shreds if they were attacked. And I figure the bodies would be mangled but they seemed to be laying there. Like they decided to lay down and never get up. 

Frowning, I decided I had enough mysteries on my plate and put that at the back of my mind. However I rummaged through their clothing. Maybe there would be something useful. 

All of them carried a pistol - a Luger - and I took one and put it in my pocket. Some had pictures of loved ones while others had personal items; wallet, matches, jewellery.

I pocketed the matches, left the rest and headed down the carriage.

As I reached the end of the carriage, I heard a loud thud and turned to see one of the yetis was standing in the doorway at the far end. It saw me and roared. It tried to charge, but it was too big for the doorway and wedged itself in. It roared again and I didn’t wait. I took off, crossing the coupling into another carriage. There were more bodies here, but I didn’t stop to check them. I kept moving.

I heard a loud crack; the sound of wood splintering and I knew the yeti had freed itself. I crossed another coupling onto a flat tray that was empty. I sprinted across to the far side and reached a caged carriage. Bolted to the side of it was a ladder and I grabbed it and pulled myself up. When I reached the top, I looked back and saw the yeti at the far end of the tray and bounding across it. 

I groaned, how was I ever going to get away from these things?

On top of the cage was a narrow wooden walkway. It ran around a square trap door in the middle before continuing to the other end. An idea came to me, and I headed for the trap door. It was a simple hinged door with a sliding bolt. I unbolted it and pulled up on the door. It was heavy but I could lift it.

I crouched before the trap door and waited, straining my hearing over the roaring of the train in the tunnel. I felt the yeti before I heard it. It landed on the cage with a metallic clang and I felt the carriage shake and vibrate as it charged.

I was taking a big risk, my back was to it. I had to time it just right. The yeti roared, sensing its prey was about to be his, but just before it reached me, I flipped up the trap door. As I did, I dived to the side, landing on the bars as the yeti tumbled into the trap door. As quickly as I could I slammed the trap door shut. I lay on top of it, fumbling for the bolt but the yeti slammed into it, making it jump and I was briefly airborne. I landed with an ‘oomph’ and felt the air burst out of my lungs.

I gasped, trying to grab the bolt, and the yeti slammed into the door again. And again. Then a third time and I saw its claws in the gap. It was going to pry the door open.

Without thinking, I rolled off the trap door, lifted it slightly and slammed it down on the yeti’s claws. It roared in rage, but pulled its claws back and the trapdoor shut, and I bolted it before it started banging into it again. The yeti roared and scratched at the trapdoor, but it held, and I lay on top of it, breathing heavily and watching the dim lights blur past.

“I hope that’s the only one,” I breathed and sat up.

Two carriages back I saw three more of them.

“Crap…” I muttered and stood up.

I headed down the narrow wooden plank, the caged yeti followed me, trying to swipe at me through the bars. I reached the other end and leapt onto the roof of a troop carriage. With the lights guiding me, I headed across the roof. In the distance I saw the train engine and I counted seven carriages between me and the engine.

I sighed. I wasn’t going to make it. I climbed down the ladder bolted into the back of the carriage and crossed the coupling, then I froze.

The coupling!

If I could disengage it, the yetis would be left far behind.

I cursed my idiocy for such a simple solution. I crossed a flat carriage, giving myself some room to work and time to see them coming. At the far end of the carriage, I leapt over the coupling then knelt before it. On either end of the carriage was a hook with a thick d-link. The d-links joined in the middle, connected by a screw bolt. Even if the bolt wasn’t rusted, it would be impossible to uncouple it before the yetis arrived.

“Shit. Shit. Double shit.”

What was I going to do? I couldn’t outrun the yetis, and I couldn’t jump off the train in the middle of a secret tunnel under the alps with no other way out and no way of knowing how far it went.

Then I remembered the dynamite stick I picked up from the dead Nazi. I flipped open the satchel and pulled it, and the matches, out. 

With shaky hands I struck a match, but it snapped off.

I tried another. It lit but the wind blew it out.

“Come on,” I urged. I heard a roar and looked up. The yetis were on the far side of the carriage. It was now or never.

“Come on,” I repeated and struck the match. The fire flared and I held the wick to the flame. It caught, sparking. 

“Yes!”

It hit me that I was holding a lit stick of dynamite and I had no idea how long I had until it blew my hand, arm and face away. What the hell was I doing?

In my hurry, I tried to stick the dynamite in between the links, hoping it would blow them apart and separate the carriages, but instead it fell through the links and disappeared.

“Oh…no.”

I heard the explosion a moment later. It was loud, and it boomed around the train tunnel. I fell backwards into a passenger carrier just as a bloom of bright yellow lit up the tunnel. The force of it lifted the tray carriage into the air, hoping like it hit a ramp and landed with a loud, metallic crunch. The train sped along, and I thought everything was ok, but then the carriage twisted off the tracks, and was pulled along with the still speeding train, sparks from the wheels grinding against the track, and the carriage against the wall, lit up like sparklers. The carriage hit a large outcrop of rocks, got caught, and jarred my carriage loose off the tracks. I felt it vibrate and wobble. I got to my feet and ran.

The carriages screeched and squealed, rocking side-to-side, as they were pulled off the tracks one-by-one.

I reached the end of the passenger carriage, ready to leap onto the next one, when the momentum of the rocking carriage sent me flying into the wall.

Everything went black.