Page 53 of Kill, Sleep, Repeat: Vol II

“Jump?” I echo.

“Yes, jump,” he says, already making his way to the edge of the wreckage, his face set. “We’re not waiting for the cops or the cleanup crew to show up. We’re getting out of here. Now.”

“It’s a long way down.”

“Being burned alive is not a good way to die,” he says, and then he turns to face me with a rare seriousness in his eyes. “Don’t think, just do.”

I look down and then back at him. “You’re right. We have no choice.”

He nods, and for once, I see him take a deep breath, bracing for what comes next. He thinks I’m going to hesitate. My heart is beating in my throat, but I’m not.

We take a step toward the edge, and without a second thought, we jump.

The ground rushes up to meet me faster than I expect, and everything is a blur—my body hitting the earth with a thud that knocks the breath out of me. I scramble to my feet, gasping for air, my legs shaking.

The train is behind us, a looming darkfigure in the distance. The fire is real now, the smoke rising in thick, black plumes, and the sound of the roaring flames fills the night.

Malik’s standing with his hands on his hips, looking back at the burning train. He doesn’t say anything, but his face is tight, his jaw clenched. He’s breathing hard, eyes scanning the smoke-filled air like he’s waiting for something else to happen.

But there’s nothing else. Not yet.

“Come on,” he says finally, his voice low, urgent. “We can’t stay here.”

I don’t argue. I nod and follow him, my feet moving on their own, pushing me forward. We don’t stop.

But then, we do.

45

HAYLEY

Ican’t stop shaking.

Everything around me is chaos, loud and terrifying. The train’s shaking, the fire’s crackling, and all I can hear is the sound of my parents shouting, their voices muffled by the ringing in my ears. But it’s not the noise that’s making me freeze; it’s the sight of it.

The wreckage. The twisted metal. The way the train’s engine keeps running, even though it shouldn’t be. The fire’s everywhere. I can’t breathe.

My hands are gripping the edge of the seat, and I don’t even know if I’m still on the damn train. Everything’s blurry, spinning, and I’m dizzy from all the smoke, the heat, the shock.

And then, there’s the face. A flash of it. The conductor—his body is half out of the window, and he’s not moving. His neck is twisted at an impossible angle. My stomach turns, but I can’t look away. I don’t want to look away.

I need to focus. But it’s like my body’s refusing to move, refusing to do what I tell it to. It’s not fear. It’s something else. Something cold, like I’m already dead inside, like none of this is real.

I glance around. I don’t know where Sophie is, or Malik, or anyone. At first, I see my parents scrambling, running, but they’re not running fast enough. Then they’re gone; I can’t see them anymore. The fire’s spreading. The smoke’s getting thicker.

This is a nightmare. It has to be.

I grip the seat harder. I need to find them. I need to find my sister.

The air feels heavy, like it’s suffocating me. I can’t get enough of it, and I can’t think straight. But I have to move. I have to do something. They can’t be dead. They can’t.

I push myself off the floor, my legs barely holding me up. I stumble into the aisle, and I see Mom and Dad are struggling to get out. They’re running toward the back, but they’re running into more fire, into more destruction. They’re running straight into it like it’ll save them. Like it won’t burn them alive.

My heart’s pounding so loud in my chest, I can barely hear my own thoughts. But then I hear something else. A scream.

It’s Sophie. It has to be.

I turn around, my eyes darting toward the back of the train. That’s where she was sitting. That’s where she was?—

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