Damian shook his head. How is it that he ended up here, on the death train? He wanted to tell himself it was all some big misunderstanding, but part of him knew it was more than that.
But still - what a terrible place to find yourself. Sure, most were there voluntarily, those who were "ready to go" and didn't have the guts to do it themselves.
There were of course a population of psychopathic thrill seekers, those who tried to time the jump off of the standing mat to prevent the electrocution but bring themselves intensely close to death.
Then there were those who offended the public's sense of decency- the unsuccessful jumpers, those who threw themselves in front of cars and buses.
Really anyone who tried to off themselves in public was taken to the train.
You were, of course, welcome to botch as many suicides as you liked in the comfort of your own home, but do it in public by any means, and the train was where you went.
At least the train traveled through the country. Damien's ex, who admittedly was the cause of his public misunderstanding who landed him here, was in Tampa.
If he could just make it there to see her one more time, he'd be fine going out.
The trouble wouldn't be in timing the jumps, he'd heard enough stories about how so-and-so's friend lasted 18 stops by timing his jumps with the windup of the buzz,
before the shock ripped through the metal plating. The problem, as Damien saw it, was that all of these stories ended the same way- a missed jump, and then the buzz.
It made sense, it'd be nearly impossible to time those jumps while drugged by the warden. That would be Damien's biggest challenge.
Even if Alyssa showed up at the Tampa station so he could see her face one last time, he'd have to make 24 jumps in complete sobriety,
which meant going without food for at least two or three days before the stop.
The death train was not an attraction to see the country for free, and it was rumored the headmaster bent the rules of the train from time to time to make sure it didn't become one.