Next Station

By: Abbie Wong

The train’s doors closed, and Alexa Nicks knew the next time the train stopped would be a calling for her to get off. This would be the same for perhaps a few hundred other people on the train with her, unsurprisingly, leaving her with four minutes until the train reached this halt.

The views of beaches and cream houses between Aurysaint Station and Golden Port Station were enough to get regular commuters and photographers to pull out their cameras. Alexa, who wasn’t the type to be fazed by a gorgeous view, was watching the in-train TV, admiring its interesting and unique broadcasts. “This summer, the Zeegles will find the truth of the world and make new companions along the way!” The trailer narrator announced over colourful creatures going on some journey, garnering “oohs” and “ahhs” from the children on board. “Zeegletown, coming to cinemas near you in June.”

She wasn’t going to complain. She did say “unique,” after all. As the trailer’s ending gag lead into an unsurprisingly abrupt end, a familiar tune played accompanying an even more familiar title animation: The news was on. Alexa’s gaze shifted from the girl across the carriage back to the in-train TV, in hopes she wouldn’t miss anything. “The serial killer responsible for the deaths of over ten French children has been arrested.” The reporter read, clearing his throat. “André Letissier, aged 23, was found this morning chasing a child, and was promptly apprehended after reports were sent to the local police.”

He’s been caught? How wonderful. Alexa thought, along with the rest of the passengers that saw the broadcast. Clearing his throat once again, the reporter continued to provide the passengers the news. “The Department of Science has reported that their longest-running project, the Teleportation Project has gone missing after over three decades of research and testing.” Ahem, again. “The project was last seen in the Department of Science’s laboratory last night, before all traces of it had disappeared this morning, the scientists of DoS are unsure as to where it has gone.”

“Wait, what?” Alexa cried out. When everyone’s heads turned to her, her hands covered her mouth, not curing her confusion over how such a thing could happen. Shivers crawled down her back as the train entered the tun-

Why are you afraid of that? You’ve been through this tunnel millions of times.

Alexa propped her ear on the door, listening to the train speed through the tunnel. What she wasn’t listening to, though, was a familiar raspy howl. What the hell was she even listening to? It was a church boy singing for his choir in front of his parents that would forbid him from eating dinosaur nuggets if he messed up...why is this what she heard?

“Next station, Golden Port Station.” The train announcer exclaimed, emphasising the “old” in “Golden.” Alright, so the announcer’s got her weird pronunciation of “Golden,” but speeding through the tunnel sounds like a choir boy. Alexa summarised, latching on to her chin with her pointer and thumb. Glancing around the carriage, she recognised a few regular commuters who also had faces of confusion, only to resume whatever they were doing prior to noticing the choir boy wailing in the tunnel.

It wasn’t long before the attention of all the passengers was captured again. They had been in the tunnel for too long for the next station to be Golden Port Station, as most along with Alexa felt. Those due to get off at Golden Port Station moved stood up, moved towards the doors, and-

Wait, what the hell is this station?

Light had returned to the windows, but it wasn’t sunlight as expected of Golden Port Station on a scorching afternoon: The light had instead sourced from hanging ceiling lights that were probably made for raves, when looking at how much they flickered. In between these flickers, Alexa tried her best to get glimpses of the rest of the platform, which was difficult with all the commuters crowding towards the doors and windows while murmuring questions like “Where are we?”, “Is this some kind of technical error?” and “Why’s this place so dusty and old?” mixed in with loud expletives.

“Excuse me, guys.” Alexa said as she pushed her way through some large men, poking her head out between them to get a clear, while limited view of this unfamiliar station, though the limit still allowed her to get one fact that could serve as a huge clue, or no purpose.

The station was named “Approach.”

The first thing that came to Alexa’s mind was that it was a stupid name, but the National Railway Service had named a station “Holden Park” despite said park being next to the station after, so in that retrospect she knew the older stations were clearly not handled well. Slipping out from the two men’s sides, she picked her pace up moving towards the front of the train, where she already saw people with ideas similar to hers pounding at the train cab’s door. Having waited patiently to reach Golden Port Station in the seventh of eight carriages, she witnessed the chaos unfolding in the following six. In the sixth, influencers tried to post about the situation, revealing the lack of internet service in their area to Alexa at the same time. In the fifth, people fought each other, convinced their sparring opponent was the cause for their current situation. In the fourth, hippies and the alike argued about whether it was the government or aliens that caused this.

Wait. The government? Alexa thought, as her mind wandered to the news broadcast she had just seen.

“The Teleportation Project has gone missing after over three decades of research and testing.”

“The Teleportation Project has gone missing after over three dec-”

“The Teleportation Project-”

One of the only logical conclusions must be that this is the result of the Teleportation Project’s work after being stolen. Alexa, while a keen viewer of the news was nowhere being a human news app. What progress was the Teleportation Project able to make? How far away from home were they? Cities away? Continents away? Constellations away?

Alexa, now widening her eyes upon her realisation leaped off the floor of the fourth carriage, brainlessly marching towards the train cab. “Where in God’s name are we?” An old man yelled, nails bloody from trying to pry the door open. “You better offer a good explanation, or my lawyer will be seeing you all soon.” Another threatened, wagging his finger at the door. “What are you going to do about this?” A teen girl said, punching at the door to no avail. “I have a family gathering to attend later tonight and if I do-”

“Attention, passengers.” An unfamiliar, high pitched voice announced through the train speakers. “This train has arrived at an undocumented station, please remain calm as your conductors negotiate a plan. Alexa noted the use of “undocumented,” which she gathered as hinting that Approach Station didn’t officially exist. With more and more information coming to her, the Teleportation Project theory was only having its foundation becoming stronger and stronger.

“What the hell kind of explanation is that?” The bloody-handed man cried, echoing through the carriage. “You better get this station documented or I’ll kill you myself!” The man’s yells also rumbled through the floor, but as Alexa turned around she saw that it wasn’t his yells that caused the rumbling.

It was the tsunami of people who demanded answers.

She would’ve been crushed, maybe killed, if not for her quick leap onto a carriage bench.

Looking at all the passengers hungry for information, Alexa swore she heard bones snapping, blood squelching, maybe even some final breaths. Not wanting to hear any more, she cleared her voice and breathed in.

“Everybody spread out!” She cried, scratching her vocal cords.

It wasn’t enough. Barely anyone listened.

“Everybody spread out and move away from the train cab!” She screamed, having second thoughts over whether she had just spoken her final words.

The tsunami turned into a sea, and Alexa hopped down from the bench and knocked at the cab door, hunched over and breathless.

“Please let me in, I-” Cough. “May know what’s-” Cough. “Going on.” She heaved, before collapsing onto the cab door.

The door opened and shut in the blink of an eye, and Alexa looked up to see the two conductors staring at her, looming over like a teacher who called on you because they knew you didn’t know the answer. “Well?” The high pitched conductor asked,. “This station doesn’t officially exist, what do you suggest we do?” Why are you asking me this? Alexa wondered, letting coughs out. I only have an idea of why we’re here. Throat clear, she asked “You know the Teleportation Project?” “Why wouldn’t we?” The other conductor asked, his voice husky. “That thing is the reason we might lose our jobs here.”

Alexa, after hearing those words lifted herself off her knees and looked the conductors in their eyes, glaring burns into her own. She had to bear the news to them. What were they going to do if she didn’t?

“It’s possible we’ve been teleported into another universe.”