aisle, hearing behind him the same sounds of a dragged body. His extended hand ran across a door at the end of the car. In his panic, he could not grasp the handle and began to rummage blindly on glass and plastic. Sounds behind were quickly approaching and Tony thought that he would be seized by his ankle any moment. But his fingers caught the handle, which moved with a click. Tony stepped again into the roaring intercar space blown by an icy wind–but this time in complete darkness. Now he was moving in the opposite direction–not to the head of the train, but to its tail. And at that moment, the next, especially sharp lurch of cars, ruined his balance, knocking the support out from under his feet! But fortunately, already falling into darkness, Tony managed to grab an invisible handrail. For some seconds he stood, grasping the handrail with both hands and waiting in horror for the sound of an opening door behind his back. Then Logan thought that the legless man simply could not reach the handle from the floor, and felt himself grow slightly more confident. He made himself unhook his right hand from the handrail and reach for the door to the next car. On the second or third attempt, he caught the door handle which was wiggling in the dark and entered the next car.
He still would like to get as far as possible from that... creature, and, spreading wide his raised hands and catching first the left and then the right handrails, he came up almost to the end of the car. Nothing hindered him. At last he turned aside and flopped on a seat–which he could not see, but was assured that it was empty. This time his intuition had not deceived him.
He tried to summon his common sense–though now, in the dark, it turned out especially hard. "It's a shame to run from an unfortunate cripple," Tony told himself. "Perhaps the poor fellow simply needed help... But then why didn't he ask for it? Did he lack not only legs, but a tongue as well?"
And what if this man was simply drunk? Or mentally sick? Anyway–what harm can be caused to a strong and healthy guy by a legless man wriggling on the floor?
But at this moment, one more source of unease, besides darkness and uncertainty, broke through these reasonable thoughts. A smell. Tony distinctly smelled a faint, but heavy, stench. It it were stronger, he surely would vomit.
After suspiciously sniffing for some time, he understood that the smell came from himself.
More precisely, from his hand. The hand which had touched someone in the dark. It seemed to him that his fingers were covered now by some dirt. Slippy and rotten, judging by the smell.
However, that creature was not necessarily the reason. Quite probably that sticky muck was on a handrail or door handles which it had grabbed.
Tony began to rub his hand against the next seat, though firm cold plastic could hardly substitute for a towel...
"Anyway, this isn't a nightmare," Logan gloomily thought, holding his hand away from his nose. "My sensations are too bright and distinct." He did not remember himself ever smelling anything in a sleep, and his sense of touch in dreams always was significantly dulled. Still smelling the rotten stench–and hoping that now it mostly came from the seat–he stood up and, stretching his hands forwards, crossed obliquely the aisle in the dark and took a seat at the very end of the car.
It solved the problem only partly.
Having sniffed, he again noticed an unpleasant smell–but not the scent of decay. Different. Now the smell of something burned was clearly felt in the air.
"A fire in this hellish train will cap it all!" Tony thought, turning his head in search of flames. But there was still an impenetrable darkness all around. And the smell... no, it did not contain the caustic bitterness of fresh smoke. More likely such a smell can be produced by something that has burnt out already. Something cooled down long ago... cold...
Logan suddenly remembered the Black man, sitting in the far end of a car. Apparently, it was this car... and he sat somewhere right here. Or on an opposite seat? Tony tried to remember, but he could not. And now Logan had the clear feeling that, just slightly moving his hand, he would touch that person. But he did not want to do it–oh no! Even at the thought of touching