Escape 2

The sound of combat faded as September carried me through the forest, his footsteps precise and measured despite the darkness and uneven terrain. After what felt like endless minutes of bouncing against his bony shoulder, he finally set me down on a patch of soft moss.

My chest tightened painfully as distant explosions lit up the night sky behind us. The orange glow painted the treetops in an eerie light, each thunderous burst a reminder of the friends I'd just found and lost again. My hands clenched involuntarily, fighting the urge to turn back.

September caught his breath, his tall, lanky frame bent forward with his hands on his knees. "Hey." He straightened up, catching my eye with an intensity that reminded me of his hidden strength. "They will be fine, we all have been in that kind of situation. Sometimes you just have to trust your friends, even when everything in you screams to go back."

I sighed heavily, the weight of helplessness pressing down on my shoulders like a physical burden. September's hand found my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze that somehow managed to ground me. "We should go, train is waiting."

Branches cracked behind us like gunshots. Mole stumbled into view, his dark skin glistening with sweat in the filtered moonlight. His chest heaved as he gulped down air, keeping a wary distance from me while shooting nervous glances my way. When September reached out to help, he waved him off with a shaky hand, clearly preferring to stand on his own.

We walked in silence through the woods, giving Mole and September time to recover their strength. The forest floor crunched beneath our feet, fallen leaves and twigs marking our passage like breadcrumbs. Once they caught their breath, we broke into a steady run again, moving as quietly as we could manage.

The trees began to thin, revealing a small clearing that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Moonlight spilled onto a modest train platform, its wooden planks weathered and gray with age and neglect. A single lamp post cast a pool of yellow light, creating an island of visibility in the darkness, where countless insects danced in its warm glow like tiny, erratic stars.

The station felt unnaturally quiet, as if the world was holding its breath. September's gaze flicked to the outdoor standing clock near the small bench. "Should be here soon," he said, his voice sounding loud in the stillness.

Mole collapsed onto the bench, his head lolling back against the weathered wood. He looked as exhausted as I felt, both physically and emotionally. September glanced behind us, his brow furrowed as he listened for any signs of pursuit. The sounds of combat had faded, either because we were too far away or because the battle had finally ended. I wasn't sure which possibility worried me more.

I stood apart from the others, lost in my own thoughts. The weight of my missing memories pressed down on me, a constant ache in the back of my mind. I wanted to remember everything, to piece together the shattered fragments of my past and understand who I was and what had happened to me. But the harder I tried to grasp at the fleeting images and sensations, the more they seemed to slip away.

A distant rumble broke through my reverie, growing louder with each passing second. September straightened, his eyes fixed on the tracks. "That's our ride," he said, a hint of relief in his voice.

The train burst into view, a sleek metal beast tearing through the night. It was shorter than I had expected, more of a high-speed shuttle than a traditional locomotive. As it approached the platform, I could feel the rush of displaced air tugging at my clothes and hair.

With a hiss of hydraulics, the train slowed to a stop. The doors slid open, revealing a dimly lit interior. September stepped forward, motioning for Mole and me to follow. I hesitated, glancing back at the dark forest behind us. Somewhere out there, my friends were still fighting. Leaving them behind felt like a betrayal, even if it was what they had wanted.

As the train ground to a halt, a short man leaped from the carriage, his hand already raised in an urgent greeting. "Gentlemen, please, come aboard. We need to hurry if we want to be in the city before the sun rises."

September nodded, his expression grim as he climbed into the train. I followed close behind, my mind still reeling from the events of the past few hours. Mole brought up the rear, his face drawn with exhaustion.

The short man beamed at me, his eyes crinkling with genuine warmth. "So good to have you at our side again, Mister March. When Mister January told me twelve hours ago that you were alive and needed help, I dropped everything and came to you."

I blinked, surprised by the familiarity in his tone. It was strange to hear such affection from a stranger, especially when my own memories were still a fractured mess. But it was better than the fear and suspicion I'd seen in the eyes of the prison guards.

September glanced at me, a flicker of concern in his eyes. He turned to the short man, his smile a little too bright to be entirely genuine. "He's happy to see you too," he said smoothly.

As our train operator headed towards the front of the carriage, September leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's keep your amnesia a secret, okay? There are a few reasons behind that, and we'll talk later about it."

I nodded, a sense of unease settling in my gut. I didn't like the idea of keeping secrets from someone who seemed to care about me, but I trusted September. If he thought it was important to hide my condition, then I would follow his lead.

The train lurched into motion, the sudden acceleration pressing me back into my seat. I stared out the window, watching as the dark forest blurred past. My thoughts drifted to my friends, still fighting somewhere behind us. I hoped they were safe, that they would find their way back to me. But for now, all I could do was trust in their strength and focus on the path ahead.