Outside the train there was nothing but fog and the vaguest outlines of bodies falling to the ground. Occasionally one would hit the train and begin scrabbling at the roof til a cable or sharp corner made it lose its grip, falling to the ground below or the tracks beneath.
Most of the passengers left at the last station, assuming it was out of the way enough that they'd be able to get to safety but a handful of us remain, silent in our carriages and praying nobody hits the powerlines. By some higher power or coincidence it hadn't happened yet but these were strange and brutal times so if a god appeared then I doubt we'd bat an eyelid.
I used to look out of the windows and daydream til my stop approached but now I do the same as everyone else and huddle beneath tables, crawling as quietly as I can towards the conductor's cabin so we can plan for the next stop.
Hopefully we'll find enough supplies to last us for another few loops, or at least enough for a comfortable end.
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