As if by chance

Panting heavily Jon ran up the pavement to the Baldock station. Which platform was southbound? Maybe he should take northbound. Did it matter? Anywhere but here. Which side had the next train? At this hour and this station, he'd be lucky not to wait half an hour. It needed to be soon. They'd catch up to him quickly if they figured out which direction he ran. What he witnessed ensured they'd want him dead.

What did the board say? Next train was the 22:14 to Cambridge. The one after that was the 22:17 to London. Did he have the luxury to wait 3 minutes or should he take the Cambridge train? Would there be anyone to help him at the station at this hour? That town was usually dead after eight. He might find a station attendant, but would they believe him or think he was a drunk? What about the stations in between? Royston. Meldreth. All smaller villages with empty stations. Better to hedge his bets on the southbound line. Plenty of larger villages to get help along the way. Hitchin. Stevenage. He'd hop off if he saw the police at the station. If all else failed, he'd ride all the way to London. 

Running to the southbound side, he leapt up the stairs, two at a time, until he reached the platform. Taking deep breaths to slow his pounding heart he looked up and down the platform to see if anyone was waiting for the train. One drunk youth in an Adidas tracksuit was smiling and pawing at a young woman, whose heavy makeup made her look ten years older than the late teen she was. Good, they were absorbed with each other and didn't notice him. He moved down the platform away from the couple and stood in a darker area, just beyond the light of the last lamp post.

How long until the train? Five minutes. That was an eternity when every second spent stationary gave his pursuers a chance to catch up. He glanced back up the platform. The couple were getting a bit too handsy for a public space, but neither looked at him. There was a shadow moving in the light of the platform stairwell, making his heart leap into his throat. Should he jump onto the tracks and hide in the shrubbery, just to be safe? Was it better to drop off the platform now before being seen or wait to confirm that the shadow was something to fear? He didn’t relish being on the tracks. Better to wait. He had the young couple to bear witness, right? How likely would it be that they would kill him in front of the lovebirds? What if they killed the teens? Now he was just giving himself more anxiety, causing the death of strangers.

The shadow emerged from the stairwell. It was just a second shift builder. Jon let out a sigh of relief. The newcomer was covered in plaster dust on the front of his legs, held a Proper Job in one hand, and his jacket in the other. The builder glanced over at the drunk couple and moved down the platform away from them. Guess he didn't care to watch two barely adults being overly affectionate either. Jon looked at the clock on the platform announcement board. Three minutes. The northbound train should have arrived. He looked up and down the tracks. No train. It must be delayed. Maybe he chose the right train after all. If he'd picked the northbound train and been stuck waiting longer, it might have proved fatal. That's assuming this train arrives on time. It might prove fatal yet.

Jon shoved his hands in his pockets and felt his phone. Dammit. Why had he done that? You see something terrible happen and you decide to record it. Who does that? Why didn't he immediately run away? Why didn't he call the police? Did he think he was helping by filming? Now he was in jeopardy and if they caught him, they would smash his phone, then smash him. Stupid! He glanced at the clock again. One minute. He could see the train's head lamp in the distance. The couple adjusted themselves to look presentable and moved from the shelter to the platform. On cue the builder also moved to the yellow line. Strange how people are all conditioned to prepare to alight, like animals being moved to pasture, Jon thought.

There was movement on the northbound platform, as the southbound train slowed to approach the platform. Jon looked up and saw his three pursuers. His heart froze. Maybe they wouldn't notice him. Pulling his shoulders in and his head down, Jon slowly retreated further into the shadows. Hopefully, they wouldn't see him until the train arrived. But the pig-faced one did. Shouting, he pointed to Jon, drawing the attention of the other two. Recognition swept across their faces just before the train pulled in front of him. Maybe the train would depart before they could cross back over to the southbound side. The odds were in his favor with pig- face. That fat arse couldn't run a meter without having a heart attack. But the other two.

Jon boarded the train and sunk down in a seat to stay hidden. The carriages were mostly empty. Lovebirds got on, so did late night builder. There was a smattering of others. A middle-aged couple chattering casually. Four relatively drunk 20-something women five carriages down. Jon couldn't tell what they were saying, but knew they'd been out celebrating something, based on their woohooing and attire – too short dresses and too tall heels. The train doors signalled closure before departure and then the train began to move. He began to relax a bit, until he saw fat boy moving down the platform. Where were the other two? Certainly, pig-face wasn't the first to the platform. Panicking Jon peeked down the aisle from the side of the seat. God, they made it on the train. Carriage seven, He could just see the tall one's bad haircut and the others green jacket. Jon pulled back down into the seat. What now? Letchworth was just a few minutes away. They would definitely get to his carriage before the train stopped again. Maybe those arseholes would get distracted by the party girls. They looked the type, always ready for a conquest. The duo maneuvered past the women in carriage five, giving them appraising looks. The drunk girls were not impressed and turned away from the thugs, ending whatever chance at a delay Jon hoped for. His heart was hammering. They would find him, drag him off the train and kill him. What were the odds that they would stab him to death before someone came to his aid? Pretty high. Just like the other guy. They must be getting closer. Jon was afraid to look. They would likely see him while he was looking for them. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself. Better to see it coming than pissing yourself cowering under a train seat.

As he poked his head above the seat ahead of him, a large man in black stood. Where did he come from? He moved down the train, sidling from Jon's carriage to the next.

‘Tickets. Show me your tickets.’

The conductor must not have seen Jon where he was hiding and started with the next visible person. The builder showed the agent the e-ticket on his phone, then returned to staring out the window. The conductor moving next to the middle-aged couple. The two brutes just passed the young lovers and Jon could see that the conductor would encounter them between the two sets of couples, midway through carriage three. As they tried to pass the conductor, the stocky man held fast, blocking the aisle.

‘Tickets, lads.’

The shorter of the two advanced on the conductor and said, ‘Let us pass, gov.’

The conductor took a deep breath, towering over the little miscreant and replied, ‘Are you getting’ shirty wiff me, mate?’

No, no, no, thought Jon. They have knives. It's not worth it, sir. Just let them pass. He couldn't bear to see the conductor get killed or maimed, even though the same would befall him if the two of them continued to his carriage. The train began to slow. The station was moments away. Would they push past the conductor before Jon could bolt? The two parties were still at a standstill when the train stopped, and the door opened. A station attendant stood just outside the open car and said to the conductor, 'Everything all right there, Collie?’

The large man replied, 'These two gentlemen were just disembarking.’

The shorter of the two criminals shouted, 'Fuck you, old man,’ then they both jumped out the car door and ran for the stairs.

Jon held his breath and scrunched down in the seat, making himself invisible from the window. Better to stay on the train. He closed his eyes and listened intently for the doors to close and the train pull out. Only after the light of the station faded away in the dark and the carriage grew quiet again did he relax enough to open his eyes. It was just a few more minutes when the train slowed again, and the lights of the Hitchin station shone in through the window. Jon rose from his seat, pressed the button to open the carriage door, and stepped onto the platform. He headed toward the station building when he saw the hi-viz jacket. Moving quickly to the jackets wearer, Jon asked, "Officer, can you help me?"