The clatter of cleats on metal echoed through the long corridor of the old train car, the sound sharp against the steady hum of the moving locomotive. Asher slumped into a window seat with a huff, his duffle bag tossed at his feet like an afterthought. His dark hair was slicked back with sweat, a reminder of the last-minute drills Coach insisted on before letting the team board. Outside the window, gray skies loomed over a seemingly endless stretch of forest and half-frozen swampland.
It was going to be a long ride.
"Figures they'd shove me into this tin can with him," Asher muttered under his breath, watching the reflection of someone obnoxiously familiar in the glass.
Ethan slid into the seat across the aisle, smirking in that insufferable way that made Asher's blood boil. He had a perfect golden-boy look — messy blond curls, sharp jaw, eyes the color of lazy summer pools. He was every coach's favorite, every girl's fantasy, and Asher's personal headache for the last two years.
They were rivals on the field. No — more than rivals. They were fire and gasoline.
"Looks like we're stuck with each other," Ethan said, flashing a mock cheer.
Asher scowled. "Don't talk to me."
Ethan gave a mock pout. "Aww, come on. We're teammates now. Brothers in bats, right?"
"Keep talking and I'll show you what a bat to the face feels like."
Across the aisle, a few of the guys chuckled. Everyone knew about Asher and Ethan. Their fights, their arguments, the infamous incident where Asher nearly broke Ethan's nose during practice because of a "misunderstood slide" at second base.
They weren't supposed to travel together. Originally, both teams — Eastbrooke Lions and Westmont Falcons — were supposed to travel separately to the regional winter tournament. But a last-minute issue with scheduling and transportation had forced them to consolidate. Now the two rival teams shared one train, two dining cars, and one brewing disaster of teenage testosterone and unresolved tension.
Coach Weller, the Lions' short-tempered commander, had barked at them before boarding: "You don't have to like each other. You don't even have to talk. But don't screw this up for the rest of us."
Easier said than done.
The first hour passed in icy silence. The train rocked back and forth, carving its way deeper into rural nowhere. Snow began to swirl lightly outside, dusting the tracks in white. Asher had his headphones in, trying to drown out the world with aggressive rock. Ethan, annoyingly, kept humming some upbeat song and tapping on his knee.
"You're doing that on purpose," Asher growled, yanking out one earbud.
Ethan blinked innocently. "Doing what?"
"Being loud. Existing."
"Sorry, forgot to check with you before I kept breathing," Ethan said with a smirk. "Didn't realize the air was yours."
Asher's fingers twitched.
A shout from the back of the car cut through the tension.
"Yo! Did anyone else see that?"
Heads turned. A few guys stood, pressing against the windows.
"Something ran alongside the train," someone muttered. "Looked like a dude... but fast. Way too fast."
"It's probably just a stray animal," another said.
"Looked like a person, man. Like, full-on sprinting."
"Out in this weather? Out here?" someone scoffed.
Unsettled murmurs rippled through the car. Asher caught Ethan's eyes. For once, the smugness was gone. There was something sharp and alert behind that pretty face.
The train jolted.
Everyone lurched forward.
"What the hell was that?" one of the Falcons barked.
The overhead lights flickered once. Then again.
Outside, the snow thickened, clouds swallowing the last trace of sun.
Asher stood up, looking down the aisle. The door to the next car had been closed, but now it hung slightly ajar, swaying with the motion of the train.
A soft moan drifted through it.
Low. Guttural. Wrong.
"What the fuck…" Ethan muttered, rising too.
"Stay put," Asher said automatically, taking a cautious step forward.
Ethan snorted. "Like hell."
The two moved in sync without thinking. Rivals on the field, sure — but that didn't mean they were dumb. Something felt off, and instincts honed on the edge of adrenaline kicked in.
They approached the door.
Asher reached out, fingers brushing the edge of the handle.
Another moan.
Closer now.
Then—
The door slammed open.
A man stumbled through. Except he wasn't quite a man anymore. His face was mottled with decay, lips shredded, and his eyes — they were all wrong. Pale. Milky. Starving.
The creature lunged.
Asher reacted first, grabbing a fire extinguisher from the wall and slamming it hard into the thing's chest. It barely staggered.
Ethan kicked out, sending the zombie crashing into a row of seats.
Chaos erupted. Screaming, shouting, people running. The two teams scrambled to the far end of the car, some climbing onto seats in panic.
"MOVE!" Asher shouted, grabbing Ethan by the hoodie and yanking him back as another creature appeared behind the first.
Two. No — three.
All of them dripping with blood, eyes blank, mouths gaping in endless hunger.
"Where the hell did they come from!?" Ethan shouted, panting.
"They're on the train. They're on the fucking train!"
They bolted into the next car, slamming the door shut behind them and jamming a bat through the handle.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Asher collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving.
Ethan sat opposite, eyes wide.
"That was a goddamn zombie," Ethan finally whispered.
"No such thing," Asher said, still gasping.
"You saw it!"
"I know what I saw!" he snapped. "But that doesn't make sense."
Ethan was silent for a moment. Then, to Asher's surprise, he let out a shaky laugh.
"Well… this is gonna be one hell of a team bonding trip."
Asher rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
"You're insane."
"You're just now realizing this?"
They spent the next hour barricading the doors with anything they could find. Seats. Luggage. Fire extinguishers. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"We need to get to the front of the train," Asher said. "Tell the conductor. Stop the train."
Ethan leaned against a window, watching the snowstorm build. "What if it's already too late up there?"
"Then we find out how many cars we have before we run out of places to hide."
Ethan turned, slowly.
"This might be the dumbest idea you've ever had."
"It's the only one I've got."
The two stared at each other. And then, in the heavy silence between them, something shifted. Not trust. Not yet. But… recognition.
They had always known how to challenge each other. Now they would have to learn how to survive together.
"Fine," Ethan said, grabbing a bat. "But if I die, I'm haunting your ass."
"You already haunt my life," Asher muttered.
Ethan grinned. "You wish."