Ethan didn’t waste another second. He bolted in that direction, shoes slapping against the concrete. “Sir! Station master!” His voice echoed off the metal roof, raw and urgent. Through the cabin window, he could see no movement — the desk was neat, the chair pushed in, the fluorescent light flickering weakly. Ethan pounded on the glass, harder this time.
“Please! There’s something on the tracks!” A chair scraped inside, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. A man appeared at last. Broad-shouldered, gray around the temples, a sun-faded cap shadowing his eyes. He opened the door just far enough to lean out. “What’s going on?”