Smoke – The End ofa Legend by Kevan Chandler

The hulking train rushed by, sending his coattails flapping high into the dusty air. A desolate world, and still trains ran – leftovers from conductors dying at the helms that day. They sped along like bulls through a city, until they met another or crossed rusted tracks. In the mean time, the quake they sent through the countryside reminded a dead world that time still pressed on without remorse. Its raging smoke and violent axles choked out every sense he had left, from smell to taste and everything in between. He closed his eyes and inhaled, the fumes burning through his chest; maybe they'd kill him where everyone else had failed. The black beast continued to tear through his world, deafening with every pulse, and he just stood there as smoke flooded in from all sides. Eventually, silence approached with a staggered gate and the grey settled and cleared. The weight of the rifle in his hand brought him back, his senses crawled out of hiding as his fingers curled around the cold barrel.