Episode 1: In the Beginning

Episode 1
IN THE BEGINNING
~Prologue~

It was one of those odd days where the world seemed to fly by with a will of its own. Hours turned to minutes and minutes to seconds until suddenly the day was over and she was standing in the middle of Union Station awaiting the call of her train.

The beauty of the buildings always hit her when she'd come to Chicago. The vast openness of the waiting room in Union Station itself was breathtaking.

A gigantic clock on the wall opposite her screamed out the time in minute intervals. As she walked through the waiting room and into the station itself the decor changed. Down the long sloping hallway it was more modern, more art deco. Severe angles and muted silver walls spoke of the architect's vision of what the train station of the future might be.

A couple of kids no more than five sped past her with their mother in hot pursuit. They seemed to be in a hurry to get somewhere. She wasn't. She wasn't looking forward to today's trip at all. If she could have gotten out of it, she would have, but Carly made it perfectly clear that she had to come. The family needed her.

That was a laugh. Why would they need her when they had Carly to take her place. Angela had never been particularly fond of her sister-in-law. She seemed petty in her adoration. Only taking a liking to those who could give her something and brown nosing up to the ones in power. She didn't know what Patrick saw in her. Maybe it was all a physical thing and he'd grow out of it once he turned thirty. She hoped.

The two tornadoes ran off past her again and this time their mother was no where to be seen. Angela reached out and grabbed them both by the hands. "Hey, hey. Where do you think you're going?" Just as they stopped and turned to look at her their mother appeared frantically calling out their names.

"Thank God. Thank you so much miss. I thought I lost them for sure this time." She gathered them up and walked off to a small waiting area just around the corner.

It was crowded today. College students lined the terminal hallways like ants to a honey pot. Bags were piled here and there and their were more bodies than seats available. Angela didn't mind. She sat all day at work. Standing wouldn't kill her. The college students were surely taking the same train as she. The "City of New Orleans." As far as she knew it passed two major colleges on its trek to the Cajun state. Champagne and Carbondale being the two that stood out in her mind.

Amidst the young and bustling stood a good looking man. He carried himself with an air of authority and observed the crowd of coeds just as she was. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and in very good shape. Much better than any of the men at her office. She glanced away scanning the crowd again and then her gaze came back to him. He was observing her now. But like most observers, he didn't look away after a few seconds. He continued to stare. His penetrating eyes swept over her like a familiar lover traveling the length of her body taking in every nuance. Self consciously, she blushed and looked away.

But she knew he was still staring. She could feel his eyes on her. He approached casually in a friendly manner. "Hello, love," he said in a slight Irish drawl.

She nodded, smiled and nervously turned to check the time over his left shoulder. She compared it with her watch. Her train should be arriving any time now.

When she dared look back, his attention to her hadn't wavered. "Are you still in a tiz over last night?" he asked.

Last night? What was he talking about? She didn't know him and she wasn't good at guessing games.

"I told you on the machine why I didn't show up." Angela eyed him curiously. "The performances ran late. We had five curtain calls."

"Bully for you," she said, under her breath mocking him. His glances were becoming a little too friendly and it was making her fidget. She wished he'd just go away and leave her alone.

Then it hit her. This man thought she was someone else. A wave of relief swept over her. At first she suspected he'd had too much to drink but the man looked sober. It had to be a case of mistaken identity.

"What did that bitch tell you?" he spat out at last. "No matter what she says. I wasn't with her." His agitation grew as the people in the seats next to them began to gawk at his raised voice and animated gestures.

"You know how she lies. I promised you, remember? No more Catherine. And I've kept my promise. I've been good as gold. She just wants to ruin my life. Ask anyone in the cast. I wasn't with her."

Cast? Curtain calls? Who was this man and who in the world did he think she was? Her curiosity was now peaking. She knew she should put the poor man out of his misery. Tell him who she was. But on the other hand, it was nice seeing a man squirm for a change. Squirm over her, not to mention this baffling case of mistaken identity. The whole thing was intriguing So she decided to keep quiet a while and play along. Just long enough to find out who he thought she was.

---

It was the sound that woke her up. Screeching metal which in a bizarre way resonated like a soft humming getting annoyingly louder. What did she expect? Trains were notorious for their forever grumbling. She turned over and leaned her head against her hand. They still had a good fifteen minutes before they hit Centralia. A quick cat nap would do her good. Then a sharp throbbing in her side brought her mind to attention. For some reason this guttural train annoyance didn't seem quite the norm.

A bright light played across her pale face and the memory of the crash came back to her in a horrifying instant. She looked up at the helicopter hoovering above her with it's light still trained on her face. Through a wide gash in the sleeper car rimmed with fire, the light had some how found her. It was a miracle.

Taking in her surroundings, she discovered the sleeper car looked nothing like it had when she had fallen asleep hours before. Still strapped into her seat, she found herself lying at an odd angle against what had at one time been a window. Grass and dirt replaced the glass which must have busted out upon impact. She could feel tiny slivers embedded in her skin but tried not to focus on it.

Angela attempted to move and somehow released her lap belt. The pain it caused was nearly unbearable. The belt cut severely into the skin along her stomach and removing it had torn the wound open even farther. She screamed out in agony.

Her scream echoed through the silence. It was then she realized that no one else was yelling to be saved, children weren't crying and mothers weren't searching for their children. What had happened to them all?

She strained to hear someone, anyone but only managed to catch the crackling sound of fire threatening to overtake the sleeper car. Panic zoomed in and her breath came faster and faster. If she didn't get out of here, she was going to die!

Her arms and legs refused to respond to her inner commands. It was like walking through a barrel of molasses. Even her mind wasn't thinking clearly. The hand of a man seated next to her flailed out. She turned around and gasped at the sudden movement. The Irishman she had come to know as Rayne was slumped in his seat like a rag doll. She gently shook him, but to no avail. Two fingers at his throat brought her the answer she had been dreading. He was dead.