Lucky

I flew across the gap in a split second, and absorbed the bulk of the impact on the other side by bending a lot at the knees. I went completely still, and listened. The moaning and panting from the living room continued uninterrupted, and in theory would continue without my involvement. Now out of "danger", it appeared a shame; Mother and Gillian were both very attractive, there was clear indication they might be naked, and the sight was not for my eyes. Not just yet, at least.

From there I successfully reached my room, crawling up the stairs on all fours to lessen the weight on each step and lessen the volume of their creaking, and ever so slowly opening and closing the door to the little atrium just before my den. As I shut myself away I glimpsed my sister’s bedroom door opposite. At some point she would return, and possibly decide to check if I was home. If enough time elapsed by then that some of my questions could be answered, perhaps..?

Given all that had crossed my mind, first order of business was dictated by a deliberately paranoid view of the future, what was the worst that could be happening, and what could the worst consequences be for someone like me? I pooled all my immediately available resources as if preparing to run away: money, train ticket discounts, student restaurant coupons, some small luggage bags, and what clothes were already clean or clean enough. Ideal would be to leave without having to do a wash first. Trips to the bathroom in this new situation offered limitless possibilities, but only if they weren't a hindrance to my wider plans.

At a guess I would last autonomously for a month with everything currently at my disposal. On the run I would have to live off small meals in chain café-restaurants, and sleep in the cheapest possible accommodations. It wasn’t an entirely alien enterprise, as I had already traveled alone toward the furthest reaches of the world once or twice, and experienced cheap bed & breakfasts, rooms for the night and so on. The question was how far to go.

Other than to physically move it appeared difficult to find out discretely just how much of our world was changed. For a substantial trip at low financial cost, crossing the mountain range would be a good start, that should tell me at least whether this mental shift was concentrated in the City. Otherwise...

Right now it was important to work out concretely what means existed to up and leave. I booted up my computer, accessed the world database, and searched for the company that ran the underground Mag-Lev line straight through the mountains. I had a natural advantage taking that train, as they offered a significant reduction in ticket prices for students.

Straight away a news video came up about an accident in the tunnel. A pretty blonde reporter who previously was the image of respectable broadcasting now stood in front of the cave entrance, with her huge breasts well in focus as they burst out of holes in her winter wear. She spoke of a large section of the shaft collapsing, and that the passengers in the last incoming shuttle had had to be evacuated mid-journey to board one of the overground trains snaking in between the mountains, stopping at each little settlement on the way. The video was marked as only seven hours old.

I made a half-arsed effort to suppress the myriad conspiracy theories running through my head, but what was the point? There had to be some sort of link. It didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try and leave, assuming nothing had happened to the regular trains, but my journey would be that much longer, and my funds would wear thin that much faster. In order for it to be worth it, I reasoned, I would have to reach even further than I had initially imagined.

I found the contact number for the company that ran the Mag-Lev, and called. The lady confirmed that no super-speed trains would be leaving due to the tunnel accident. I asked her if there was any way to apply the ticket discount I had with the Mag-Lev company to any of the overground trains, which she gladly said there was. Under exceptional circumstances, one of the overground trains that did all the stops on the way out of the mountains would accept Mag-Lev ticket terms. The tunnel collapse, she told me, did indeed constitute an exceptional circumstance. It was the most normal conversation of the day, although perhaps only because of the separation provided by the telephone. In person, who knew what she was up to?

Concluding my escape research was finding a suitable train. There was only one each day that went all the way out of the mountains and where my ticket arrangement would work. It left in the morning at 09:37 am from the north-west station, near the entrance to the Burrows, a mere five minute walk from Mother’s.

I had to leave unnoticed, so I couldn’t wait until 09:30 or thereabouts and then set out. Either Mother or Gillian was bound to still be home, and would want to know why I hadn’t gone to school yet, and why I was carrying so much stuff. I had to be out of the house by the usual time, around 07:20 am, and find some occupation in town and out of sight until I had to go board the train and scarper.

I was trying to decide whether I would hide out in some forgotten corner of the ancient city ramparts or brave the old town and find some little-known pub to lounge in, when the gong sounded downstairs. It was teatime. In theory I wasn’t expected home just yet, but I couldn’t fake my own return now I was back. It was time to reveal my presence. My research was done; I had a plan for escape which could be set in motion at a pinch. I rose from my desk, left the shelter of my room, and went downstairs.