AARON Words were forming, heavy and slow, as I prepared to tell him the truth. The truth was that my head and heart were still shattered. Taking a new job felt wrong when my mentor had been murdered right in front of me. The moment was stolen before I could speak. A sharp tone echoed through the train car’s speakers, flat and cold. “All passengers, please take your seats. The train will be coming to an unscheduled stop.” Every person near me turned toward the front of the train, even though several cars blocked the view. No one could see anything, yet everyone looked anyway. “What’s going on?” slipped out under my breath. The train slowed and then stopped with a sudden jerk. My body slid across the seat before I could brace myself.Muscles tensed as I leaned back, trying to see past the windows toward the front of the long train. Fear bloomed fast and deep. “Oh my God.” Along the first car ahead of us, six men stood outside, rifles raised and pointed at passengers through the glass. Three of them broke away and moved straight toward our car’s access door. One rifle lifted higher than the others, aimed directly at me. Instinct took over. Movement carried me away from the window. A grip closed around Marianne’s arm, pulling her hard to the opposite side of the car. Bodies dropped down beside Representative Caleb as a gunshot cracked through the air from the front of the train. A scream followed, sharp and raw, filling our car. Caleb did not hesitate. His voice was low but firm. “Give me your Senate IDs. Now.”His own government card was already in his hand. Mine and Marianne’s followed without thought. He shoved both cards into a narrow gap between the seats and the wall, then pushed us down into the tight space behind the row. “What do they want?” the question trembled as it left my mouth. “Us.” That was all Caleb managed before the door slid open. Two men climbed inside. Another gunshot rang out. The scream that followed was weaker this time, like people were already running out of breath. A terrible thought settled in. If it happened again, maybe no one would scream at all. Or worse, the sound would come from this car. A careful glance showed the two men stepping into the aisle. One stayed near the door, rifle ready. The other moved forward. Similar faces, similar eyes.Father and son. The older man carried too much weight, his stomach pushing over the belt of his camouflage hunting pants. The younger one was thin, tight with nerves, eyes flicking from face to face, measuring danger. A thin mustache sat on his lip, making him look barely grown. Judgment flashed through my mind. What kind of father brought his son into this? The answer came quickly. The kind who enjoyed it. The older man walked the aisle slowly, savoring every step. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, voice loud and pleased. “I am Commander Silas of the People’s Reborn Anti Federalist Army. You are my temporary prisoners.” He paused, letting the silence stretch. “Temporary, if you choose to do your patriotic duty and follow my orders. I am hunting an infestation hiding on this train, just like the one rotting our nation. My brothers and sisters are already inside the Sanctum Complex, striking the Deep State Regime that has crushed free people for too long. Anyone who thought they could run from justice will be found.” Eyes swept the car. “Obey and you live. If you work for the Federal Oppressors, stand up now and confess. Mercy might be possible. Make me find you, and your death will not be quick.” A third gunshot cracked on cue. The car erupted in screams. Still, no one stood. No one moved. A pounding filled my chest, so loud it felt visible. Marianne’s hand locked around mine. Tears streamed down her face. Pressure returned to her grip as mine tightened back, trying to give comfort I barely had. “No takers?” Commander Silas smiled and shrugged. His head tilted toward his son. “Time to disembark. Separate the wheat from the chaff.” A large silver pistol appeared in his hand. The barrel waved toward the door. People closest rushed out without protest.Eyes turned toward us. My gaze dropped at once. Challenge felt like death. The smile on his face stretched wider as he knelt in front of Marianne. The pistol tapped lightly against the top button of her blouse. “How about you, honey? You a Federalist Oppressor?” His eyes traveled slowly downward. Her hand crushed mine. A twitch from Caleb’s leg flashed at the edge of my vision. A chuckle followed as he stood, joints popping. “All right. You three. Outside.” Feet moved fast. Words followed us. “Hope your boyfriend works for the feds,” he laughed. The son’s rifle never wavered as we passed. Marianne reached the door first, slipping off her heels before sitting and lowering herself to the ground. Caleb stepped ahead, landing on the uneven surface, then offered a hand. She slid down carefully, knees pressed together, skirt tight. “Come on. I’ve got you.” “Thank you.” She said it softly as he leaned close and whispered something I could not hear. The rifle snapped toward me. “Move, you Fed.” A nod came automatically. Fear burned through my body, sharp and humiliating. The need to urinate was overwhelming. Caleb’s hand steadied me as I slid down, boots hitting the ground hard. His voice brushed my ear. “If you want to see your son again, be ready when I move.” A question almost escaped. A shove pushed me forward before it could. One armed man stood outside, rifle raised. “Form a line.” Obedience came easily now. Five of us stood shoulder to shoulder. Another line formed beside the next train car. One man held them all with a single gun.My head bowed. Tears gathered, then spilled. Marianne’s fingers found mine again. The grip was desperate. “I don’t want to die,” she whispered. A nod answered. Tears broke free fully. Home filled my mind. Elena’s arms. Lucas’s small body pressed against my chest. Guilt slammed down without mercy. The memory rose sharp and clear. Lucas waking from a nightmare. Fear shaking him. Fifteen minutes on the couch had not been enough. Anger had won. Words had cut. Shame had driven him back to his room. Morning never came for us. Work always stole me away before he woke. That was the last thing my son would remember. Tears poured unchecked. “I don’t want to die either.”