Old Transportation Routes

Please note: This story is a continuous, multi-chapter narrative. You can find the correct order in the right sidebar. All texts were originally written in German and translated into English using AI. I asked the AI to preserve the original stylistic flair wherever possible.   Bernard gripped Ebram’s upper arm. “Wait—let’s get some light first.” He rummaged through Ebram’s backpack for a lantern and lit the gas with a match. Then he raised the lantern high above his head and turned in a slow circle to illuminate the scene. What they saw wasn’t a grave or a sunken dwelling—but a railway track. The two men looked around, confused.
“What is this place?” “Looks like a platform with tracks.” Bernard shone the light down over the edge in front of them—there were indeed rails. Narrower than they were used to, but unmistakably rails. There were also benches and a strange box with unfamiliar symbols on it.
Abby stood in the middle of the tracks and waved to them. “Come on! They’ll lead us to the city!” She pointed down the rails. “Told you we’d impress you, Ebram!” Then she vanished into the dark tunnel.
The two men exchanged a glance and hurried after her. Bernard called out: “Abby… Abby, wait for us!” Her laughter echoed from the darkness, but she didn’t slow down. Ebram stumbled after the flickering light and Bernard’s long strides. “How can she see anything in here?” he panted. “No idea—but she’s damn fast.”
Then they reached a junction—tracks crossing other tracks. Abby’s laughter echoed from multiple directions, bouncing off the walls. “Which way?” Ebram asked helplessly. “Damn it, I don’t know!” Bernard replied, kneeling down. He searched for tracks, a clue—but nothing indicated which way Abby had gone.   Ebram took the lantern from him and shone it down the tunnels. “We’ve got three options: right, left, or straight ahead. Where do we start? They all look the same.” “Right. We’ll call her name, and if we stop hearing her, it was the wrong way and we’ll turn back.” Ebram nodded and turned into the tunnel on the right. After ten minutes, they could no longer hear Abby and returned to the junction.
They tried the next tunnel—but Abby had gone silent. No matter which path they took, they couldn’t hear her anymore. Bernard vented his frustration by slamming his fist against the wall and shouting, “Shit, shit, shit!” then called her name again. Ebram, meanwhile, was deep in thought, trying to approach the problem rationally. When the big man had calmed down a little, he stepped closer.
“She wanted us to follow the tracks to the city—so that’s what we’ll do. She’ll be waiting for us there, I’m sure.” “And which track leads to the city?” Bernard asked, wary. “I don’t know yet, but there must be some kind of map at the stations.” “Can you read it?” “Probably not—but maybe I can make sense of the symbols.” “Alright, let’s find the next station.”
    They followed the track they were on and reached a platform after twenty minutes. Bernard climbed up effortlessly and helped Ebram, who struggled. They carefully scanned the walls for information. By now, both had lit their own lanterns and searched independently.
“Ebram! I think this is some kind of map!” “Wait, I’m coming!” The doctor hurried over to Bernard, who had found a framed diagram with lines, strange symbols, and junctions. The image was weathered, and some parts were barely legible, but one larger point was clearly marked. Bernard pointed to it. “I think this is where we are! But where do we need to go?”
Ebram studied the lines. “It’s a route map. We need to find a second station to determine which direction we’re heading.”
He traced the line leading away from the marked point. “We should follow this one. Look—it leads to a major junction where many lines cross. Only important, populated places have hubs like that.” He tapped it several times. “If we go the other way”—he traced the opposite direction—“the junctions get smaller. That’s probably the outskirts.”
“Makes sense,” Bernard agreed. “So, do we go back or keep following the tracks?” Ebram wrinkled his nose thoughtfully. “Let’s look for more clues. Besides, this platform must lead somewhere, right? There has to be an exit.” But they found none.
“Ebram, maybe this track was just for transfers,” Bernard suggested. The doctor considered it. “Yeah, could be—but still strange, isn’t it?” They searched a while longer, then decided to keep following the tracks.
  The next platform was nearly thirty minutes away on foot. They climbed up again and looked around. This time, Ebram spotted the route map and gave a quiet cheer: “We’re on the right track—look!” Bernard joined him and stared at the map. Ebram pointed to the highlighted spot. “See, we were here earlier, now we’re here. That means we keep following the green line toward the city.” He looked up at Bernard and smiled. “That’s where we’ll find Abby.”
Bernard nodded quietly, which made Ebram take notice. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Nothing, I… I should’ve watched her more closely,” Bernard admitted. “Abby’s an adult—she can take care of herself. You couldn’t have stopped her.” “I didn’t even try.” “How could you have known, Bernard?” Ebram placed a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. Abby’s smart and sharp. She’ll make it on her own.”
Bernard nodded, resigned. “You’re probably right. I just feel pretty useless right now.”

Six stations still lay ahead, and they had no idea how long it would take to reach them. It was exhausting to walk the entire time with a lantern held high above the tracks. Twice they had to turn back after taking the wrong turn at a junction, and so they managed only two more stations before fatigue caught up with them.
Bernard could have easily made it to another station, but Ebram couldn’t—so they settled on a platform. Bernard dragged benches together to build a small enclosed area. Ebram examined the setup. “Do you think we’ll be attacked here?” He gestured to the overturned benches forming a low wall. “I don’t know, but I’m playing it safe.” Bernard shrugged. “Besides, I feel like I need to do more to protect us.” He dragged another bench across the floor with a squeal.
Framed by benches and lit by lanterns, the two men sat on their sleeping bags and ate together. “Do you think Abby’s gone mad?” Bernard asked quietly. “No. I think that thing has control over her. Like it did with my assistant,” Ebram said, shaking his head. “I just wonder how it works. I mean, neither of us hears the thing, right?” He looked over at Bernard, who also shook his head.
“No, I don’t hear anything. But it started—with the fingers. Do you think something happened there? Something we missed?” Ebram thought for a while in silence, then answered hesitantly: “No, no… I think she sensed or heard something earlier, but… locked it away?” He looked at Bernard. “Maybe it’s the dreams? How many have you had?” “Not a single one,” the foreman replied curtly. “I almost never dream.” “Never?” Bernard nodded. “I think the last dream I remember was years ago.”
  They settled in for the night—or at least what they assumed was night. In the darkness of the platform, they couldn’t be sure. They lay close together and tried to sleep. Ebram’s thoughts were with Abby, wondering if she found sleep in her madness. Bernard’s hand rested on his stomach and began to move slowly, slipping under his shirt and resting warmly against his skin. Ebram held his breath and tensed unconsciously. Bernard’s breath against his neck had changed, and then he felt warm lips on his skin. It was a beautiful feeling, but so unfamiliar and unsettling that he couldn’t surrender to it.
“Bernard,” he whispered hoarsely. But Bernard didn’t stop—he gently turned him over and kissed him more intensely, sealing his lips with his own. Between two kisses, Bernard paused. “Say what you want, Ebram—but before we both fall into madness, we will love each other.”
Later, they lay naked and entwined, relaxed in each other’s arms. Ebram was happy and still couldn’t quite believe it. Bernard sighed contentedly, held Ebram close, stroked his hip, and kept grinning at him. They didn’t speak, simply enjoyed the closeness, unwilling to ruin the intimacy of the moment with words. Emotionally stirred, Ebram took longer than Bernard to fall asleep. He watched the big man, studied him, while Bernard had long since drifted off. Only much later did Ebram finally manage to sleep.
 
When Ebram awoke, Bernard had already been up for a while. He was dressed and had draped his own blanket over Ebram. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, the doctor sat up and yawned deeply. Bernard chuckled softly. “Good morning, Ebram.” “Good morning,” Ebram replied, stretching. “Breakfast?”
The two men ate together in quiet, exchanging subtle glances and unable to wipe the grins from their faces. In the lantern light, it felt even more surreal than if they’d been sitting in sunlight. When they finished, they stood wordlessly and packed up. No words were needed—they had a shared goal: Abby.
  The night with Bernard had changed something in Ebram. He couldn’t name it, but it felt good and important. It was as if he were whole, complete—and only now realizing that something had always been missing.
He looked at Bernard and wondered what he felt. Surely Ebram wasn’t his first love. Maybe it was just physical affection—but Ebram hoped it was more. For him, it was more.
Since that night, a nonverbal communication had developed between them that hadn’t existed before. As if they thought alike—which they definitely didn’t—but at least shared identical goals, and with that, motivation and actions aligned. It was fascinating and intoxicating.
Despite losing Abby, despite the camp, the dead—Ebram felt more alive than ever.
  The next station had an exit, and they stepped outside with anticipation. They had expected ruins, decay, and overgrown plants—but none of that appeared.
What greeted them was breathtaking: a garden, or rather a park. There were few firs or spruces here, but fruit trees, ornamental shrubs, and flower beds. Buzzing and humming filled the air. The old paths were barely visible, overgrown, but the underlying structure was still discernible.
When this park was maintained, it must have been a true idyll—and even now, despite the wild growth, it retained a majestic quality.
Bernard’s eyes lit up. “Food!” He pointed to the fruit trees. Ebram followed his gaze, amused. “You really only think about food when you see this?” Bernard shrugged and headed toward the trees. Ebram followed, grinning.
 
They gathered as much fruit as they could carry and briefly enjoyed the nature around them. But soon, unease and guilt crept in. Again, without many words, they stood up. “Time to move on.” “Yes, let’s go.” They were in agreement.
Together, they descended back onto the dark tracks and continued. They managed three more stations before evening fell. All stations now had above-ground exits, and they began to see the first ruins—overgrown and crumbling.
At each station, they called for Abby. When no answer came, they moved on. They camped outdoors near a station, in a small ruin. Trees and shrubs had formed a natural arbor, suggesting walls and a roof, though on closer inspection, one could see through it.
They enjoyed their closeness, ate heaps of fruit, and explored each other’s preferences late into the night.
  The next morning, they were awakened by a cheerful: “There you are!” Abby sat barely two meters away, crouched on the ground, stuffing fruit into her mouth. “Cute little pocketses you picked out… really cute,” she mumbled, tilting her head at them—without blinking even once. Ebram and Bernard simply stared at her.