Silence.

The darkness was so heavy it was like a thick blanket smothering her. For one panic-stricken moment, she thought she was blind. Frantic, she tried waving her hand in front of her face. She saw nothing, but managed to poke herself in the eye. The shock of the jabbing pain made her think for a moment. They had been in a tunnel -- that was why it was dark.

There should be screams, cries, something, thought Dylan.

But there was only silence.

Her eyes couldn't make out even the tiniest pinprick of light. She tried to push herself up from where she'd been thrown sideways onto the chair next to her, but something was pinning her down. Twisting to the right, she managed to pull herself down onto the floor between the seats. Her left hand landed on something warm and sticky. She yanked it away and quickly wiped it on her jeans, trying not to think about what the stickiness might have been. Her right hand curled around a small object -- the phone that had been in her hand when the world had been turned upside down. Eagerly she picked it up and turned it over. Relief rolled through her, but it was quickly replaced by disappointment. The screen was blank. Her fingers jabbed at the touch screen, hope fading fast. It was dead.

"Shit! Ow!" she exhaled, ducking back down. Her hand reached for her temple, which was throbbing ferociously. It didn't seem to be bleeding, but it hurt like hell. Carefully this time, she straightened up again, using her hands to guide her head to a safe place. It was so dark she couldn't even see what she'd bumped into.

"Hello?" she called timidly. There was no answering voice, no rustling sounds of other passengers moving about. The carriage had been packed, where the hell was everyone? The pool of liquid on the floor by her seat flashed back into her mind, but she pushed it away.

Crawling into the aisle, Dylan got her feet beneath her and stood up, smacking her head hard on something.

"Hello?" Stronger this time. "Can anybody hear me? Hello!" Her voice cracked a little on the final word as panic began to rear its ugly head. Her breathing quickened and she struggled to think through the fear that gripped her.

The darkness was claustrophobic and she clutched at her throat, as if something was strangling her. She was all alone, surrounded by… by… She didn't want to think about it. All she knew was that she couldn't bear to stay in the carriage a second longer.

Ignoring the throbbing in her neck, Dylan held on to the pole fiercely with both hands, feeling like it was her grip on reality. Pole, her brain told her. The pole is next to the door. You must be next to the door. Relief flooded her system and allowed her to think a little more clearly. That's why she was alone. Everyone else must have made their way out already, and they'd missed her because she'd been buried under that stupid woman's bags. I should have sat next to the Rangers fans, she thought, laughing weakly.

Mindlessly she surged forward, tripping and hauling herself over objects that stood in her way. Her foot landed on something soft and slick. The tread on her trainers found no friction and slipped. Horrified, she tried to jerk her leg up and away from the suspiciously spongy object, but her other shoe couldn't find a safe and level place to land. As if in slow motion, she felt herself falling towards the floor and the fearsome things that lurked there. No! Gasping, she threw her hands down to protect herself as she tumbled towards the ground. Her flailing arms caught a pole and her fingers tightened around it, bringing her to an abrupt stop that strained the muscles in her shoulder. Her momentum carried her forward and she jarred her neck painfully against the cold metal.

"Dammit," she murmured. The electricity had probably been cut off during the crash. She looked back over her shoulder, a pointless exercise as she could see nothing. Her imagination filled in the blanks, packing the route through the carriage with upturned seats, luggage, broken glass from the windows and squishy, slick things that were solidifying in her mind's eye into limbs and torsos. No, she was not going back that way.

Not trusting her feet in the darkness, she reached along the partition connected to the pole, expecting to come into contact with the folded open door. Her fingertips stretched out but found nothing. Shuffling a little further forward she found the door at last. It was shut.

That's weird, she thought, but then shrugged. Everyone else must have gone out of the door at the other end. That was just typical of her luck. Her logical reasoning calmed her and helped her to think clearly. Unwilling to travel back across the carriage and risk stepping on some more worryingly soft things, she felt around for the button to open the door. Her fingers found its raised edges and pushed, but it remained closed.

Putting both hands flat against the train doors, she pushed hard. Though they held, she felt them buckle a little. With enough effort she thought she could force them open. She stepped back, took a deep breath and launched forward, kicking the door as hard as she could with the bottom of her left foot. The bang sounded very loud in the confined space, ringing a little in her ears, and her knee and ankle twinged painfully, complaining about the force of the impact. Nonetheless, she could feel fresh air against her face and that gave her hope. Her hands confirmed it: one section of the door had been forced off its runner. If she could do the same to the other door, there would be a gap big enough for her to squeeze through. She took two steps back this time and threw herself against the door with as much strength as she could muster. The door screeched as metal rasped against metal, before finally giving way.

The gap was not a large one, but luckily neither was Dylan. Turning sideways, she squeezed her body through the opening. There was a ripping sound as her zip caught between her body and the door, but suddenly she was free and falling towards the track. She felt a moment of fear thrill through her, but her trainers crunched on gravel after just a short distance and the feeling of claustrophobia lifted like a chain that had been cut free from around her throat.

The tunnel went on and on. She was on the verge of turning back and trying the other way when she saw what she thought was a dot of light ahead. Hoping for a way out, or a rescuer equipped with a torch, she stumbled faster, desperate to be outside in the brightness again. It took a long time, but slowly the dot turned into an arch. Beyond it she could only see a little daylight, but that was enough.

Without a light to guide her, she tripped often and so it was slow progress. Every now and then something by her feet would scurry quickly away. She hoped there weren't rats in the tunnel. Anything smaller than a rabbit caused outbursts of irrational fear in her. A spider in the bathroom could trigger half an hour of hysteria until Joan could be persuaded to come and rescue her. If anything ran over her shoe in here she knew her flight instinct would kick in. In the dark, though, with the uneven ground, she'd probably fall flat on her face.

The tunnel was as dark as the train. The crash must have happened right at the centre. Dylan looked first one way, then the other. It didn't help. She could see no light, and apart from the gentle sound of air rushing through the enclosed space, there was silence. Eeny, meeny, miney, mo, she thought. Sighing, she turned right and trudged forward. It had to lead somewhere.

The landscape was empty except for the track, which wound forward across a wild backdrop. She had left Glasgow far behind, she realised. The horizon was ringed with large, imposing hills. Low-slung clouds blurred their edges as they skimmed the highest peaks. It was a muted palette of colours, purple heather fighting for space amongst great swathes of brown bracken. Small copses of trees grew in irregular patterns on the lower gradients of hills dark-hued with evergreen pines. The slopes closer to the tunnel were gentler, undulating mounds coated with long grass. There was not a town or a road in sight, not even an isolated farmhouse. Dylan bit her lip as she studied the scene. It was untamed and unfriendly looking.

When at last she exited the tunnel it was raining softly, and she laughed with delight as she turned her face up to the gentle shower. The dark of the tunnel had made her feel dirty, and the misty droplets felt like they were cleansing some of the horrors away. Taking a deep breath, she put her hands on her hips and surveyed her surroundings.

She had expected to see a melee of police cars and ambulances parked at random angles in their haste to get to the scene. There should have been hordes of men and women in different brightly coloured uniforms ready to rush forward and comfort her, check her for injuries and ask her questions. The area just outside the tunnel should have been littered with groups of survivors, ashen-faced and huddled in blankets to keep out the cutting wind. In reality there were none of these things. Her face fell into a mask of confusion and unease. Where was everybody?

Turning round, she looked into the black mouth of the tunnel. There was no other explanation: she must have gone the wrong way. They must all be at the other end of the tunnel. Tears of frustration and exhaustion sprang up in her eyes. The thought of going back into the darkness, of having to walk back past the train filled with the limp, lifeless bodies of the less fortunate, was excruciating. But there was no going round it. Hacked out from the base of a massive line of hills, the bracken-covered ground rose up on either side, no less insurmountable than a sheer cliff face.

She looked up towards the heavens, as if pleading with God to change things, but all she saw were the steely grey clouds ambling quietly across the sky. With a quiet sob she turned back to the bleak landscape before her, desperate for some sign of civilisation that would save her from having to return to the dark tunnel. Holding her hand to her forehead to protect her eyes from the wind and the rain, she scanned the horizon. And that was when she saw him.