Chapter 2

The train moved fast now. Outside the windows, Paris was disappearing. Buildings turned into trees, and the city noise faded away. Inside Car 7, though, the noise was loud. People screamed. Feet stomped on the floor. Bags fell from racks as passengers pushed and shoved. The sick woman had bitten the bearded man, and everything was going wrong.

Jennifer stood frozen for a moment. Her notebook was on the floor, pages bent. She didn't pick it up. Her eyes were on the woman. The woman's mouth was red with blood. Her teeth were sharp, like an animal's. She growled, a low, scary sound. The bearded man held his arm, yelling in pain. Blood dripped between his fingers, making a puddle on the floor. "Help me!" he shouted. "She's crazy!"

The woman didn't stop. She jumped on him again, clawing at his face. He fell backward, hitting a seat. People ran away, some toward the front of the car, some toward the back. A woman with a dog grabbed her pet and climbed over a seat. A man in a red hat dropped his book and hid behind a table. The baby's cries got louder, its mother rocking it fast.

Jennifer's heart beat hard. She didn't know what to do. She was a journalist, not a fighter. She wrote stories, not battles. But she couldn't just stand there. She looked around. The car was a mess. Suitcases blocked the aisle. A coffee cup rolled on the floor, spilling brown liquid. The air smelled like blood and sweat. She took a step forward, then stopped. The woman was too fast, too wild.

The bearded man kicked at the woman, trying to get free. "Get off me!" he yelled. His voice was loud, but it shook. The woman didn't listen. She bit his neck this time. He screamed, then went quiet. His body went limp. The woman kept biting, tearing at him like he was food. Jennifer felt sick. She put a hand over her mouth. This wasn't real. It couldn't be.

Other passengers shouted for help. "Stop her!" a man yelled. "Someone do something!" But no one moved closer. They were too scared. Jennifer saw the teenage girl with purple hair—the one from the platform. She was curled up in a corner, her hands over her ears. Tears ran down her face. Jennifer wanted to help her, but her feet wouldn't move.

The train shook a little, speeding up. The windows showed green fields now, far from Paris. No one could get off. They were trapped. Jennifer's mind raced. She needed to think. She needed to write this down. She bent to grab her notebook, but then she heard a new sound. A gurgle. She looked up. The bearded man was moving again.

His eyes opened. They weren't normal. They were white, cloudy, like a dead fish. Blood covered his face and shirt. He stood up, slow at first, then fast. The woman who bit him turned her head. She growled at him. He growled back. Then he lunged at a woman nearby—the one with the baby. The mother screamed, holding her child tight. The bearded man grabbed her arm and bit down. She dropped the baby. It fell to the floor, crying louder.

Jennifer ran forward without thinking. She couldn't let the baby get hurt. She slid on her knees, grabbing the little bundle. It was wrapped in a blue blanket. She pulled it close and stood up. The mother was fighting the bearded man, but he was too strong. He bit her again, on the shoulder. She fell, blood pooling under her.

The baby wailed in Jennifer's arms. She backed up, holding it tight. "It's okay," she whispered, even though it wasn't. She looked around. The car was chaos. The sick woman and the bearded man weren't the only ones now. The mother twitched on the floor. Her eyes opened—white, empty. She stood up, growling like the others. Three of them now. Three monsters.

Passengers screamed and ran. Some banged on the doors at the ends of the car. "Let us out!" a man yelled. The doors didn't open. They were locked. Jennifer saw the woman with the dog climb onto a luggage rack. The dog barked, loud and sharp. The man in the red hat swung his book at the bearded man, but it didn't do anything. The bearded man grabbed him and bit his hand. The man in the red hat fell, yelling.

Jennifer's chest hurt. She couldn't breathe right. This was happening too fast. She turned and ran toward the back of the car, the baby still in her arms. She needed to get away. She needed to find help. The purple-haired girl was still in the corner. Jennifer stopped. "Come with me!" she said. The girl looked up, her face wet with tears. She nodded and stood, shaky.

They moved together, stepping over bags and spilled food. The infected—Jennifer didn't know what else to call them—were busy biting others. More people fell. More stood back up, their eyes white. The car was turning into a nightmare. Jennifer reached the door to Car 8. She hit the button to open it. Nothing happened. She hit it again. "Come on!" she shouted.

The purple-haired girl grabbed her arm. "Look out!" she yelled. Jennifer turned. The bearded man was coming. His mouth dripped blood. His hands reached for her. Jennifer screamed and kicked him. Her foot hit his chest. He stumbled back, but not far. He growled and came again.

The door beeped. It slid open. Jennifer didn't wait. She pulled the girl through, still holding the baby. The door closed just as the bearded man hit it. His hands banged on the glass, leaving bloody smears. Jennifer backed up, breathing hard. They were in Car 8 now. It was quieter here, but not for long.

In the conductor's cabin, Ken watched the tracks ahead. The train was moving smooth and fast. The screens showed green lights—everything was fine. Paul, the young worker, sat next to him, chewing gum. "Good day for a ride," Paul said. He smiled. Ken didn't. He didn't feel like talking.

The radio crackled. "TGV 4721, this is control. All clear to Bordeaux," a voice said.

"Copy," Ken replied. He leaned back in his chair. The cabin was small but calm. The hum of the engine was steady. Outside, the countryside rolled by—fields, trees, a river in the distance. Ken liked this part of the job. It was simple. No people, no problems.

Then a red light flashed on the screen. Ken sat up. "What's that?" he asked.

Paul looked. "Car 7. Emergency signal."

Ken frowned. "What kind?"

"Dunno," Paul said. "Could be anything. Someone pulled the alarm maybe."

Ken didn't like it. He grabbed the radio. "Car 7, this is the conductor. Report." No answer. He tried again. "Car 7, report now." Still nothing. He switched to the camera feed. The train had cameras in every car. He clicked to Car 7.

The screen showed chaos. People ran. Some fell. Others… Ken squinted. Others were biting. Blood was everywhere. A woman with white eyes jumped on a man. He screamed, then stopped moving. Ken's stomach turned. "What the hell?" he said.

Paul leaned over. His gum fell out of his mouth. "Is that real?" he asked.

Ken didn't answer. He switched cameras. Car 6 was fine. Car 8 had a few people running in from Car 7. Car 7 was a war zone. He counted at least ten infected. They moved fast, like animals. Passengers banged on doors, trapped.

"We need to stop the train," Paul said. His voice was high, scared.

Ken shook his head. "Can't. We're in a tunnel soon. No stops for twenty minutes."

"Then what do we do?" Paul asked.

Ken didn't know. He'd seen fights on trains. Drunk people, loud kids. Never this. He grabbed the radio again. "Control, this is TGV 4721. Emergency in Car 7. People… attacking. Send help."

The radio buzzed. "Say again, 4721?" the voice asked.

"People are biting people. They're crazy. Send help!" Ken shouted.

A pause. Then: "Understood. We'll alert stations ahead. Hold tight."

Ken dropped the radio. Hold tight? That was useless. He looked at the screen. The infected were spreading. Some banged on the door to Car 8. Others turned on each other. A baby's blanket lay on the floor, empty.

Paul stood up. "We should go back there. Help them."

"No," Ken said. "We stay here. Keep the train moving."

"But they're dying!" Paul yelled.

Ken grabbed his arm. "You go back, you die too. We wait for help."

Paul pulled free. "You're a coward," he said. He ran to the cabin door and opened it. Ken shouted, "Paul, stop!" But Paul was gone, running down the train.

Ken slammed his fist on the controls. He hated this. He hated being stuck. He looked at the screen again. A woman with long brown hair held a baby in Car 8. She looked scared but strong. A teenage girl stood next to her. They were alive, for now. Ken didn't know who they were, but he felt something. He had to keep them safe.

Back in Car 8, Jennifer set the baby on a seat. It was still crying, but softer now. The purple-haired girl sat next to it, her hands shaking. "What's happening?" she asked.

"I don't know," Jennifer said. She looked at the door to Car 7. The infected banged on it, their growls loud through the glass. The door held, but cracks started to show.

"I'm Chloe," the girl said. "That's my name."

"Jennifer," Jennifer replied. "We need to move. They'll break through."