text: [Themes: thriller]
  
  > stand
  You get off Seat 4B.
  
  *** PING ***
  
  "Ladies and gentlemen, we are experiencing some minor turbulence. Please return to your seat and fasten your seat belts."
  
  > go north
  You wander towards the back. After hovering around the galley for a bit, you return to the cabin.
  
  A flight attendant rushes up, escorts you back to your seat, clips you in, then disappears.
  
  Airplane (on Seat 4B)
  The airlines claim that planes are getting bigger, but you don't believe a word of it. This cramped cabin feels about as roomy as a culvert, and has approximately the same decor.
  
  There is a door south and a small kitchenette north.
  
  The passenger next to you awakes with a start.
  
  > Kiss passenger
  He's too busy babbling to pay any attention to you.
  
  "I hate flying," your seat-mate bemoans.
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes.
  
  The plane lurches hard to the left. Your stomach churns.
  
  "I always wonder if I'll ever see my daughter again."
  
  > wait for a while
  Time passes.
  
  "What would my wife do if I were to die?"
  
  > Wait
  Time passes.
  
  A bright blue flash illuminates the entire west side of the airplane, followed by the noise of a tremendous explosion. The wing is on fire!
  
  For a brief moment, everything is silent as the situation slowly sinks into the minds of the passengers. Then pandemonium breaks out in the cabin as the plane goes into a near-vertical dive.
  
  "It's all your fault, you know."
  
  Your traveling companion turns to face you, and you recoil in horror. The left side of his face is horribly mutilated, the skin torn and burnt. The empty eye socket stares at you accusingly.
  
  "Why did you have to survive? I had a family, a child... they depended on me! You had nothing! You were nothing, and you still are nothing!"
  
  He leans forward, and you can smell the horrid odor of burnt flesh.
  
  "Nothing..."
  
  Crash positions be damned! You struggle at your seat belt, but the mechanism is jammed.
  
  He's moving closer... reaching out... reaching toward you... the stumps of his fingers... twitching... touching you... shaking you...
  
  > Wait
  ...and you find yourself wrestling the station attendant.
  
  "Sorry about that! Didn't mean to startle you, but by the sound of it you were having a dilly of a nightmare!
  
  "Anyway, you best be going. I've written a note explaining the situation to the conductor; it's on the back of your ticket. Better hurry."
  
  You take the ticket and a copy of the schedule and make your way out to the platform.
  
  > show the ticket to the conductor
  Sole survivor syndrome.
  
  That's what they call it. Psychological trauma after surviving an accident that killed so many others.
  
  You still can't look at a plane without hearing the screaming or smelling the blood. The last time you tried to visit an airport-- just to pick up someone-- you left in an ambulance, catatonic.
  
  Things were looking bad when the old rust bucket died this morning. The mechanic said that the earliest he could get to it was first thing Monday morning, and the rental agency just laughed when you asked if you could get a car on short notice for the weekend. Flight was out of the question for obvious reasons, but rail had existed far earlier than planes. So you found yourself pleading your case to a sympathetic station manager, who managed to squeeze you onto a special charter train direct to San Diego.
  
  Two years ago, the wedding was postponed indefinitely by your accident. You are determined that that will not happen again. The sun is shining, the tracks are clear, and in a few hours you'll be the star of the show. Come Hell or high water, nothing is going to stop you from being...
  
  An Interactive Action-Adventure
  
  Car 3 (on seat 4B)
  Trains haven't changed much in the last 40 years. You could just imagine a furtive Cary Grant slipping from car to car or a diabolic Robert Walker plotting fiendishly in some corner.
  
  You can see the conductor here.
  
  > show the ticket to the conductor
  (first taking the ticket)
  "That's the one."
  
  "Ticket, please."
  
  > show the ticket to the conductor
  "That's the one."
  
  > give the ticket
  (to the conductor)
  The conductor reads the back of the ticket quickly. "Ah, that explains why you're not on my list."
  
  CLUNK. The conductor punches the ticket and returns it you.
  
  He walks north to the next car.
  
  > go to the north
  "Whoops!"
  
  Oh dear, it seems that you bumped into a young man carrying an open container of coffee, most of which is now decorating the front of your jacket.
  
  Car 3, Aft
  This tiny space near the junction to the next car is unremarkable, save the cramped stairway to the upper level and the door to the tiny lavatory west.
  
  The closed door says "Unoccupied."
  
  > close the door
  You close the lavatory door.
  
  > lock the door
  The light above the sink flickers, then glows.
  
  There seems to be a commotion outside.
  
  > Wash jacket
  Alas, all you do is spread the stain slightly. This job requires water.
  
  Wait... was that gunfire...?
  
  > turn on the sink
  You turn on the faucet, allowing water to flow into the sink.
  
  Your Russian may be rusty, but a voice definitely said, "Sergei, check the toilets."
  
  > look at the window
  It's a small window, but if you were feeling suicidal, you could probably squeeze through it. That's a pretty big if...
  
  The door rattles for a second as the gunman tries to get in. Frustrated, he fires off a dozen bullets which pass easily through the door and you.
  
  > get on the floor
  You can't go that way.
  
  The door rattles for a second as the gunman tries to get in. Frustrated, he fires off a dozen bullets which pass easily through the door and you.
  
  > enter the window
  You can't, since the lavatory window is in the way.
  
  The door rattles for a second as the gunman tries to get in. Frustrated, he fires off a dozen bullets which pass easily through the door and you.
  
  > open the window
  You open the lavatory window.
  
  Wait... was that gunfire...?
  
  > enter the window
  It's quite breathtaking out here, and you'd probably enjoy the scenery if it weren't for the annoying fact that you're clinging to a flimsy metal ladder while being buffeted by sixty mile-per-hour winds. Safety lies inside, east.
  
  Your Russian may be rusty, but a voice definitely said, "Sergei, check the toilets."
  
  > jump
  You jump on the spot, fruitlessly.
  
  The door rattles for a second as the gunman tries to get in. Frustrated, he fires off a dozen bullets which pass easily through the door, the thin metal wall of the car, and you.
  
  > Go upward
  Unfortunately, there are more than a few missing rungs in this ladder, making the roof of the car inaccessible.
  
  The door rattles for a second as the gunman tries to get in. Frustrated, he fires off a dozen bullets which pass easily through the door, the thin metal wall of the car, and you.