There’s a who now under the train?
I didn’t say anything to the driver, cos what can you say, but I was worried now. There was people under the train. What the fuck? I cracked open the door a little and he tried to stop me but I pushed him back. I pulled Teddy Baker into the driver’s cabin and Bob followed him. I closed the door behind them.
‘Dude hit some people. Did they jump?’ I asked the pig man driver. He nodded. ‘A woman jumped in front of the train carrying a baby.’
‘We have to save them,’ Bob said.
‘Yes, Bob. That is the can-do attitude Aziz likes. Teddy Baker?’
‘What about the train people?’
‘Radio’s broken. I can’t get through to them,’ the pig man stuttered.
‘Are you ready for your first rescue mission?’ I asked.
Teddy Baker nodded.
‘Who made you boss?’ Bob asked, like the douche he is.
‘The English accent puts me in a natural position of authority.’
I had no idea what to expect. I don’t do well in hospitals. They make me feel knee-queasy. Was it going to be the same with some mangled corpses under a train? I’m not going to lie when I say, I hoped the police and rescue turned up very soon. But seeing as they hadn’t and all the spectators were happy spectating instead of aiding, I opened the door of the train carriage. I turned to the pig man. The bow tie was itching under my stupid spandex.
‘Is the line electrified?’
He shrugged.
‘Isn’t that, like, Driving Trains 101?’ Teddy Baker said sarcastically.
The pig man shrugged again.
I stepped out and down onto the tracks. I assumed that if these things were electrified I’d hear them buzzing. I peered under the train, my shoes slipping on the gravel and I could see 3 rails, 2 for the wheels and 1 for something else, but no bodies.
I looked up at the other guys to see what they were doing. Teddy Baker was on his phone.
‘You fucking tweeting this, man?’ I asked him.
‘No way, dude. I’m on the MTA NYC Passenger Safety website. It says that the middle rail’s carrying like 600 volts of electricity but the rails for the wheels are safe.’
‘Safe? Safe. Right, okay. Maybe we should wait for the cops or something? Call the cops, Bob.’
‘Don’t fucking tell me what to do man.’
‘Come on, don’t be an arsehole.’
‘It’s pronounced ass-hole, asshole. Anyway, you wanna be a hero, be a hero.’
‘There’s 600 volts of electricity near my toes man. Is that a lot?’
Teddy Baker turned to the pig man and asked him if 600 volts of electricity was a lot or a bit more than a static shock. 600 volts was a lot. It had to drive an entire train.
Oh.
I was about to move forward towards the bodies when Bob jumped down onto the tracks from the carriage and pushed me out of the way.
‘Outta the way, limey. I’ll see about these guys. You don’t speak their language.’
‘What, English?’ I asked but Bob ignored me. With 600 volts of electricity near my junk, it was probably not best to be a smart-arse.
I followed Bob to the front of the train. You could see where this woman jumped in front of the train but you couldn’t see her. There was a trail of cloth on the tracks. Suddenly, through all the traffic and arguing, Bob and I turned to each other cos we can hear crying.
‘There’s a baby under there,’ he said, over and over again, so I dropped to my knees, man of action me, to see if I could see what I was supposed to be seeing. Sure enough, I could see the bundle of cloth under the train, not too far, where the mum or woman or whoever the fuck it is lay there curled up. Brown cloth. There was a baby crying inside. The baby’s alive.
‘The baby’s alive!’ Bob shouted to Teddy Baker who I heard drop down from the carriage onto the train tracks.
‘Word?’
They both stooped to my vantage point, but I was reaching under till I touched cloth. I wanted to see how lodged under there the mum was. I didn’t want to touch the 600 volts of electricity third rail so was careful. Luckily, she was nowhere near it. She landed on the right side of the train and fell immediately underneath. The baby was curled on the other side of her, perilously close to the third rail.
Once I realised this, I yanked at the cloth harder. She wasn’t stuck at all, just heavy. Teddy Baker saw what I was doing and he pulled the cloth too. Just as she started to unwrap from the brown cloth, I managed to pull at an arm. She was heavy. You could feel it in the mutton chop of her forearm. She was nearly dislodged when we saw the baby, in a sling at her front. No wonder she didn’t really manage to jump far. She was heavy and weighed down by an 8-pounder. I wrenched at her arms and Bob reached down and picked the baby up and out of her chest sling. Teddy Baker put his ear to her mouth and I looked for a pulse.
I couldn’t feel anything other than my own pulse pushing all that delicious adrenaline around my body. I felt amazing. It didn’t feel right. It felt addictive.
Aside: rescue someone. If you’re one of those fools who needs constant validation and the feeling that you are somebody, find someone to rescue and rescue the shit out of them. You will feel amazing.
I ran my thumb up and down her arm but I couldn’t feel anything. Teddy Baker looked at me and shook his head.
‘The baby! The baby!’ We heard voices shouting about the baby. The spectators saw Bob’s prize and started applauding him. Bob was holding the baby up to the windows like it was the lion king and he was Mufasa. We looked up from the corpse and to Bob and then to the crowd. Someone was shouting ‘the baby’ with a lot of urgency.
I saw a man running down the platform with a gun – a fucking gun! My first thought was, what the fuck, why has he got a gun near a baby? He started pushing through the applauding spectators and I turned to Bob.
‘Bob! Look out!’
‘Fuck you, Limey …’
‘Bob!’ Teddy Baker shouted. ‘Get back inside the train!’ We jumped back inside the train carriage and closed the door just as the man with a gun ran through the crowd towards the edge of the platform.
‘You need to drive the train,’ Teddy Baker screamed at the pig man. He was rooted to the spot. Shocked.
Teddy Baker punched him and spied a start button. He pushed it and I whacked down the accelerator lever. We felt the bump of the dead mum as the train started up. We were moving slowly. People were confused. The platform’s spectators dispersed thinking the train was coming into station.
CRACK! The side glass of the cabin cracked with multiple stings.
‘He’s shooting at us!’ Bob shouted.
We were being shot at, dudes!
Aaaaaaaand that’s enough for today’s blog. Tension, tension, tension – I am the master of tension. But let’s just say, if I let this sit with you now … when you hear what happened next, oh my, you are going to shit yourselves all over the internet. And there’s enough wankers on there enough as it is.
There are 6 comments for this blog:
df325: Aziz, this is too funny.
AZIZWILLKILLYOU: Funny? Babes, did you not read it? I was shot at.
Gus Gustofferson: Lies. Lies lies lies. LIES.
AZIZWILLKILLYOU: Hey buddy, I’m back from America soon. Google ‘The Little House’ pub. Meet me there this Saturday at 3pm so I can knock the fuck out of you.
Gus Gustofferson: That definitely sounds like a threat.
Flately McBlackly: Did any of this happen in slo-mo? Like in the movies?