Sam and I burst through the door, giggling madly as Adora squeals in joy. Sam drops the small bag of sweets down on the coms desk before taking off his wizard hat and running his hand through his hair, making it even more wild than it was before.

"I think this was the funnest Halloween I've had in a while," He says, and I quirk a brow.

"Funnest?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't give me that. You say 'ain't'."

"And I say it with pride," I reply, setting Adora down and watching her trod over to her toys, her little tutu bouncing as she does so. "But you're right. This Halloween was fun. Can you believe we had enough produce in the farms to make candy apples? And do pumpkin carving?"

"Don't mention the pumpkin carving. Adora nearly stuck her head inside the hole of a pumpkin like, twelve times."

I smile knowingly. "I told you to hold her and just let her watch while Phineas was working on getting the inside of the pumpkin scooped out, but did you listen? No."

"Well, she kept giving me those sad little eyes, especially since Maxine was letting Sarah help scoop out her pumpkin," He whines. "And I mean, we're probably going to spend the next three days getting that pumpkin goop out of her hair, but she looked like she was having so much fun and I couldn't just hold Adora and not let her have any fun."

I roll my eyes at his dramatics, heading into the next room to find the basket where I keep Adora's clothes. I grab a soft nightshirt and pants and head back into the main room. Heading over to the corner where the redhead sits with her toys, I squat down and hold up the nightshirt, which is enough to tell her it's time to get dressed for bed.

She pouts, but still stands and starts to pull off her shoes, socks and shirt and then shimmies out of her tutu and leggings. She's learning. She can get out of her clothes now without needing my help. I can't exactly consider it a good thing since there have been multiple times she's decided she suddenly wants to be without pants and then takes off running when I notice.

I think she uses it as a distraction because it happens most often when I'm watching her and Sarah, and Phineas is in the room playing with Alejandro. I swear those two have an obsession with the chinchilla and I'm most certain they'll be asking for a puppy when they're older.

I help her into her night clothes before lifting her up and into her crib. She'll be two in about two months, and while I know some children don't move from a crib to a toddler bed until three and a half, I'm beginning to wonder if we should start looking into one. Of course, by then there should be more buildings up for children and residents to stay in. We started clearing out an area of the town for a building yesterday, and we're looking into making one of our old dormitory buildings into a two story, so less space is taken up.

Still, I don't think it would hurt to look for one just in case.

Sam and I both change out of our costumes, which were the same as last year and the year before that. My Rapunzel costume only comes out during this time of year before I throw it into a corner to stay for the next many months.

"It's always a shame to see you change out of that. You look pretty," Sam says, and I roll my eyes.

"You only say that because I don't have my wig anymore."

He grins slyly before sighing in a dreamy tone. "Oh, how glad I was to see that thing look so ratted when you pulled it out. That thing was not that great even before you had no choice but to throw it away. You look better without it anyway."

I playfully place my hand to my heart, my face twisting a bit. "What? Did I not look good as a blonde?"

"Not really."

"Ouch."

"I'm just saying," He throws his hands up, before taking a step closer to me, leaning in. "You look better as a brunette, and with brown eyes."

I laugh and lean into his touch when he reaches forward to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. "Careful. You'll hurt Catherine's feelings."

"I don't give a damn about Catherine's feelings." His words are soft, although despie his joking manner I know he's dead serious. I reach up on my toes to press a kiss to the side of his mouth.

"I'm sure she'd say the same thing. Now enough talk about her. Let's go to bed. 'M tired."

"Alright, alright." He sighs and lets me practically drag him to the bed, pulling him close as I burrow under the covers, trying to get as much warmth as possible.

"Goodnight, darling. I love you," I say, closing my eyes, and I can hear the smile in his voice when he replies.

"Goodnight. I love you too."

And all is quiet.

Until I open my eyes again and I'm no longer in the coms shack.

The bright light burns my eyes for a quick second, and suddenly I'm sitting in a cushioned seat. I can hear a slight click-clack noise as my body sways oh-so-slightly from the movement beneath me.

Am I... on a train?

I look out the window, not to see where I am, but more to see who I am. The reflection of the glass shows my face, but I can't exactly see my eyes, just the view of the sun slowly sinking down beneath the tree line. I look around at the table I have to myself, at the walls, the floors. This train is in good condition, and all the people around me look so... normal. Their clothes aren't ratted or wrinkled. There's a woman wearing a pencil skirt and stilettos, the expensive red bottom ones, and they're clean!

This must be before the apocalypse happened, or at the very least, before the zombies reached wherever I am. I could be any of my doppelgangers.

I have to find a bathroom, somewhere with a mirror where I can see the color of my eyes. I start to stand, feeling a bit odd to be on a train in what feels like forever, but before I can think on that or where I can find somewhere with a mirror-

"Tickets! Tickets please!" A train guard yells as she starts heading down this train car to me. "Any tickets from Basingstoke, please!"

I tense, looking around and grabbing the brown leather bag at my feet before pulling out the ticket. I'm unsure why I feel so jittery about this when I've been in Chrysalis's body while she was being hunted down and I was in Cameron's body when she literally died. This is nothing, honestly.

The train guard reaches me, and she smiles as I hand her my ticket. Her black hair falls just at her shoulders, no frizz, no static, just sleek and shiny and man I forgot how pretty hair could be when good products were available. Her makeup is just as good, with sharp black eyeliner to go against the smoky shadow that accentuates her almond shaped eyes.

Whatever memory this is, I hate it, because it's reminding me of all the little things we took for granted.

"Thank you," She says, handing me back my ticket after she clips it. "I've always liked seat five, you know. Best view on these trains, and you get the table to yourself."

Seat five? I almost laugh. Of freaking course.

I'm Abel Runner Five, Chrysalis was New Canton Runner Five, Cameron was Rescue Five on the European Rescue Force...

I wonder who this is. It could be one of the other two, but that doesn't rule out the chance that it could be Chrysalis or Cameron.

I put my ticket back into my bag, then freeze. My bag! Or her bag. It's possible there's a driver's license or something in here that can tell me who I am. I reach down to grab it, and my hand wraps around the handle.

There's a soft, melodic beep overhead, and for some reason I give pause.

"This is the 1350 train to London-Waterloo. Calling and working to London-Waterloo," Someone says over the speakers. It sounds like a recording. "InterTech is proud to announce the launch tomorrow of our flagship service-the Oban Express."

"Bloody hell," The train guard groans, gritting her teeth. "They've been doin' this announcement every stop."

"The new Oban Express is the-"

"Fastest, longest, and most advanced train in the world," She says along with the recording. "And the most luxurious. It will make the trip from London to New Oban in a little over two hours." She shakes her head. "Blah, blah, blah."

"The train's main voyage has been fully booked for three years, but you can still win..."

The recording keeps going, but my attention is jerked away from it when the train itself jerks, wheels screeching loudly as everything comes to a sudden, painful stop. I see a few others look around in fear, and the train guard reaches up and taps into her earpiece.

"Bloody hell! What was that? Peggy? Peggy, what was that?" I watch her face, and I can tell from the furrowed brows and slightly pinched lip that she's taking in information. "Oh, right. Right, I got you."

I open my mouth to ask her what's going on, but she speaks first.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please pay attention," She announces loudly. "I don't want to cause alarm, but I need you to disembark." She reaches overhead and presses a few buttons, and I hear the doors open at the end of the train car. "I've got the doors open. You'll need to climb down here and head across that field. Passenger in seat five, would you mind leading the way?"

I nod, but as I reach down to grab my bag, the train guard grabs my shoulder and pulls me up, practically pushing towards the other end of the train car towards the exit.

"What's the problem? Please, you have to tell us," A Scottish woman says. I'm able to catch a glimpse at her for just a minute before I keep heading for the exit. What sticks out the most is the vibrant pink color of her hijab. It matches her eyeshadow.

"Fuel line's ruptured," The train guard responds. "Please, disembark and head across the field. Now! Run!"

I already know I'm in this for the long haul, whoever I currently am, and I push forward to get to the exit, hopping down and out once I reach it. It's nearly sunset, light fading extremely quickly to the point I feel almost afraid to go out too far since I don't have Sam in my ear.

But this is the past. For all I know this might be years before zombies are here in the world. Little Callista is probably safe in Arkansas, and because she's across the ocean she's probably in school or getting ready for school because of the time difference. I'm safe here.

Safe from zombies, at least. Not so safe from a train's ruptured fuel lines.

After waiting around for a few minutes, and the shadows of the surrounding trees growing longer and longer, I start to walk around, mostly to see if I can find someone who I can comfortably ask what day it is, or really, what year it is. How I can ask without them looking at me like I'm insane is the thing I have to worry about.

How I wish I had been able to grab my bag. Maybe I had a cellphone in there. God, it would be nice to see a working cellphone again. More importantly, I could have seen who the hell I am.

Before I can ask the nearest person if they think there's a chance I can go back for my bag, there's a loud boom from an explosion, and I whip my head towards the train to see it going up in smoke.

"There goes the train," The man beside me says. I can't really see his facial features because of the fading light, but he seems rather relaxed for what just happened.

"What happened?" The woman near us asks. It's the same woman I heard before, who was upset and asking the train guard what was going on, rightfully so.

"Yes, it's puzzling. Fuel lines don't just rupture for no reason."

The woman points at one of the figures walking towards us. "Look. That's the train guard. Hey! What're we supposed to do now? What happened?"

The train guard walks towards us slowly, giving us a nod when she reaches us. "Glad to see you're okay. Just wait here. The company's sendin' a coach. Don't wander in the woods. We've had reports of wild dogs."

"Wild dogs?" She exclaims, and I tip my head to the side, curious. "You can't just leave us with that! What happened to the train?"

"The driver got sudden onset flu. Collapsed onto the control panel. Pressed some buttons that shouldn't have been pressed together."

"Sounds like some safety procedures weren't working either," The man cuts in. "How're we supposed to get to London now?"

"I told you. Company's sendin' a coach. Wait here." She takes a step back. "Sorry. I've got to go. I've got to find everyone in this area, tell them the same as I told you. Sorry."

And with that she turns and leaves.

The woman beside me scoffs. "British rail. Do you reckon they're really sending a coach? It's getting dark... Listen, we might as well get to know each other. My name's Halima."

The man hesitates. "I'd... rather not give my name, thank you. Let's just go by seat numbers. I was seat twenty-seven." He looks at me. "You were seat five, weren't you?"

I narrow my eyes at him, since him not wanting to give his name is extremely suspicious. Still, I nod.

"Yes, I was. I-"

I freeze.

Oh. Oh, how stupid I am. How stupid I am to have forgotten that there was a simple way to figure out who I am all along. I don't need to see my eyes or ID. I simply need to speak and hear the accent.

I know who I am now.

"I-I am. But you can call me..." I swallow, going silent for one beat, then another, "Catherine, if you want."

He hums, not pleased by me giving my-well, her name. He pulls out a phone from his pocket. The brightness isn't on very high, but I still flinch.

"Catherine?" Halima repeats. "Is your nickname Cat or something?"

"No," I reply, cringing at my new French accent. "My name is Catherine. You can call me Catherine... or Five."

She shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'm still Halima. Who're you texting, Twenty-seven?"

Twenty-seven sighs and puts his phone away. "Look. I work for the train company, hence why I don't want to say who I am. But they'll hold a train for us at Woking if we make it there in the next few minutes."

"They told us to wait."

He shrugs. "Okay. Five, you want to come? Woking isn't far. We'll make it if we run."

I nod. "Uh, oui, yes. I'm not a big fan of sitting out here in the dark."

I don't know why, but something tells me I need to stick around this man, even though it was Halima who called me Cat, which I think was the name in the letter Elisha asked me to read years ago.

"No, no, I'll come," Halima cuts in. "Safer together, especially with wild dogs about. Come on."

•

"So, you work for the train company?" Halima asks.

"Yep," Twenty-seven replies.

"You don't have anythin' to do with the train to New Oban, do you? The one that's really long and it's got bedrooms and a gym and a supermarket and everythin'?"

"Yep."

She laughs softly in disbelief. "No, you haven't."

"Alright. Have it your way. No, I haven't."

"No, but have you though?"

"You can't see me rolling my eyes because it's getting so dark, but I'm rolling my eyes."

Halima gasps so loudly that both me and Twenty-seven flinch.

"I love that train! My mum loves it. My dad loves it. Seen all the diagrams of it. Got the brochures. Have you seen it, Cat-er, Five?" She laughs a bit sheepishly, probably feeling the intensity of my glare.

I don't know why I dislike the nickname, but I do. It probably has something to do with Catherine's subconscious, and how she dislikes the name. Unlike some of my visions, I don't seem to have access to her memories. Figures. This reminds me a lot of my visions with Chrysalis. I had certain instincts, but nothing concrete.

Interesting.

"Uh, no. I haven't. They kept playing an advertisement on the train, though," I reply.

"Oh, man. It's so cool! I applied for all those drawings to win a ticket but didn't get anywhere. Me and my family-we're takin' the slow train up to New Oban tomorrow just to see the express pull in. I'd give anything to go on it."

"Uh, Twenty-seven, if you are a worker for this train, does that mean you're going to ride it on its maiden voyage?" I huff through my nose when he doesn't give an answer right away. "Are you?"

"Not if I don't get to London before tomorrow."

"Oh my God, you are!" Halima basically shrieks. I'm surprised she's not literally radiating light from her excitement. "That is so cool! I'm part of this online group-Oban Heads. They interviewed us on the radio about the train. Listen. I've got it somewhere on my phone. Just a sec."

She pulls her phone out of her pocket, the light of it turned down low as she searches. I try to lean over to see if she has a calendar widget on her phone to show me the date. I would like to know what year we're in. Since I look younger than I truly am, and so do my doppelgangers, I can't exactly hope to find a mirror and judge by how old I look.

I've seen the Original. She looks almost exactly like me even though she's sixteen years my senior. In my visions she looks light she might be a few years older than me, maybe in her mid twenties, but really she's in her late thirties. We can't gauge the date by how we look.

"Um, here." She presses a button on her phone.

"Did you know that all the seats on the New Oban Express have been specially designed for it?" One woman asks. "They also made a new color for the bathrooms. New Oban Cotton Cream. You can't get it anywhere else."

"Most people don't realize that a train that long takes more than six minutes to come to a stop. The driver has to start applying the breaks dozens of miles outside the station," Another man says.

"I-I love the facilities on the train," Another says, and I gasp softly. "Can you believe there are eight restaurants? And a board game café on the observation deck?"

That voice. I know that voice! That was Sam!

Halima presses pause and doesn't seem to feel the glare I send her way. "Yeah, it goes on a bit, but we love that train. I mean, the whole thing! New technology, cities in the highlands, new start. Me and my parents will be up at five AM tomorrow so we can get the slow train just so we can be there. Can you tell us anythin' about what you're doin' on it? Are you onboard staff?"

"No, I'm..." He hesitates, and I narrow my eyes at him, "I-I was involved in the design team."

"Oh my God!" She shrieks again. "I bet I'd recognize you if it wasn't so dark. Come on, Cat!"

"Five," I correct. "Or Catherine."

"Yeah, yeah. Come on, Five. We've got to get Twenty-seven to Woking now!"

She picks up the pace, her jog turning into a run, and we're forced to follow. I see the silhouette of Twenty-seven as he keeps looking down at his feet, trying to avoid tripping and falling. It must be hard to run in the thick jacket and jeans he's wearing, although I'm sure it's helping him keep the cold out. The air has a chill to it now that the sun's gone.

The dark is the least of our problems. The farther we go into the woods, the more I hear barking.

"It really is getting dark now," Halima says, a tinge of fear in her voice.

"Passenger Five and I can both see that it's getting dark, Halima. You don't need to tell us," Twenty-seven snaps, although it's easy to detect the fear in his voice as well. He's just channeling it into anger to avoid showing how unnerved he really is.

I don't blame him. Knowing that I'm out here alone without a guiding voice reminds me of the time I was running through the zombie infested wilderness at night when I was fifteen.

But it's not like that. There aren't any zombies here, not now. Not yet. I'm okay. The worst we have to worry about is these dogs, which aren't near as dangerous as zombies. The worst they can give me is rabies, and as of right now, there are hospitals with cures for that.

"Yeah, but I mean, like really dark. I can just about see my hand in front of my face, but I can't really see the base of that tree there. Can you, Cat?"

I open my mouth to reprimand her for calling me "Cat" again, but then those dogs start barking again, louder than before. There are a couple snarls too, some sounding a bit... familiar.

"Those dogs sound quite nearby," I murmur nervously.

"How do you get wild dogs anyway? Are they like, nice dogs that go wild?" She asks, and I hear a growl that's far too close for my liking. "Like 'Girls on TV'? My mum hates that program."

"No, I rather think that they're-" Twenty-seven gasps at the sound of a loud snarl, one that does not sound like a dog at all, but rather-

"We need to go," I say. I can't see, and while I can't know for sure, while I know I could just be panicking because the growling creatures I've been running from the past seven years were zombies, I am not staying to take any chances.

"Cat's right," Halima agrees. "That dog must be right on top of us. We've got to get out of here."

"I can see the track. If we keep to it, it'll lead us to the station." I can just see Twenty-seven's arm point to the bit of track that separates the trees. "Follow it and keep running."

I pick up my pace, my mind racing as the snarls of the dog... zombie... thing starts to fade. It doesn't go away completely though. Even though we push forward, the barking and growls are still there.

Was it a zombie? Am I just being paranoid? If it was a zom, wouldn't Halima or Twenty-seven had said something?

There must be something I'm missing, but if they think it's only dogs, then maybe it is. Surely they'd mention there being zombies, or something akin to those here, right? And with the way everything was so nice and clean on the train, the way they talk about this Oban Express and normal jobs and homes and television--with the way they just have fully charged cellphones to use to show videos and recordings... this must be well before the apocalypse. I'm just being paranoid.

Yes, that's it. I'm just being paranoid.

So I just keep running on the train track, trying not to falter as fatigue starts to hit my body. Catherine's body apparently isn't as conditioned as mine is in 2020, not that I can blame her. The world hasn't ended. She's had no need to run everywhere, not when she could take the train or drive a car.

My chest tightens as my heart pounds, but I keep pushing, too afraid of whatever is out here to stop.

"Not bein' funny, but how many dogs do you think are out here?" Halima pants.

"Listen," Twenty-seven replies, "I design power systems for ultra-fast trains. I know nothing about wild dogs." He swallows as their barking gets louder, snarls and growls getting closer, too close. "Oh, but it sounds like quite a few. I've heard that people get the sudden onset flu so quickly that they could be out walking a dog and they just collapse."

"Sudden onset flu?" I repeat. This is the second time someone's mentioned it since I've been in Catherine's body. Unfortunately, I'm ignored.

"Oh, so they could be nice doggies?" She asks, and I notice a growl that's getting progressively louder. "Like, nice doggies that just want a bone?"

Twenty-seven shouts in shock, and I see through the darkness a blur of something next to his silhouette. It's deformed, large, long. I'm sure it'd be as tall as me if it stood up on its hind legs, but it's body slopes as if it doesn't have any.

"Something's got me!" He yells, struggling against the creature. "Biting my coat. Help! Stop!"

"Cat, we have to-" Halima starts, but I'm already reaching down and picking up a large tree branch. My-Catherine's- muscles strain from the effort, but I grit my teeth and swing, slamming into the blurring mass. I don't hear any stained whine or yelp like you would from a dog as the branch slams into the creature and knocks it back. It's just nothing but silence before a following snarl of anger.

She grabs Twenty-seven and hoists him up. "Quickly, come on! We have to get out of here."

"It was-it was trying to bite me." His voice shakes. " Didn't get through my heavy coat. I-I-I think it just had two front legs and a big round head."

"Come on!" We have to move. Now!"

•

"We'd like to thank passengers for their patience. I assure you that the train to Waterloo will start shortly. We're waiting for one member of staff," A voice says over the speakers, and I sigh at the sight of light and safety.

Halima's shoulders slump as we step up onto the platform. "We're finally here. Woking station. On my God, that was an adventure."

I look at Twenty-seven, at his coat that now has a wrangled right sleeve. "It nearly got through... You're sure it didn't break skin?"

Twenty-seven looks at me, and now that we're in the light I can see his green eyes and the confusion they hold as he shakes his head. "No, I'm sure."

I nod. There's no reason to lie. Dog bites don't turn you into other dogs, not even mutant dog bites. Although there's a part of me that wonders if it was a dog at all. Just when exactly am I?

"Oh, bloody hell," Halima gasps, and I turn to find her staring wide eyed and open mouthed Twenty-seven. "You're Andreas Unopolis. You're like, responsible for the maglev control system."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Well, I don't want to say, but yes."

"Forgive me, but are you... famous?" I ask hesitantly, which gets a smile from Andreas, his light but full brows going up in slight interest.

"Cat, this is Andreas Unopolis! Wow! The train freaks on Oban Heads won't believe this."

He grins sharply. "You know what else they won't believe?"

Halima's eyes grow wide. "Is it aliens? Did aliens build the train?"

"No. It was a product of many years of engineering work. Listen, two of the passengers on the train had to dropout. I've got their tickets to give to anyone I like, and since you've been so helpful..."

She gapes at him. "No!"

"Yes. Halima, Catherine, you'll be traveling on the maiden voyage of the New Oban Express tomorrow." He pulls the tickets from his pocket, glancing at them for a moment and then chuckling. "Huh. Look at that. In coach B. Seats five and six."

I wake up.

I sigh through my nose as I stare at the ceiling, very aware of Sam's presence as he clings to me in his sleep. My heart seems to beat irregularly in my chest, my lungs filling with air as if I've been held underwater.

I was Catherine. I was the person who hates me, wants to kill me. I was her when she was normal, possibly.

I'll tell Sam about this dream in the morning. I have to. Something tells me this isn't the last dream I'm going to have as Catherine.