Abigale nods quickly. He turns and disappears into the darkness.

A RUSSIAN WOMAN, desperately trying to find safety for her baby, runs past Abigale, speaking quickly.

MEDIUM: ABIGALE STANDS AT ATTENTION, BALLING HER RUINED NIGHTGOWN IN HER HANDS.

A beat.

The train’s boiler RUPTURES, blowing off its casing. Abigale jumps and the Russian Woman shudder from the EXPLOSION.

WIDE: THE BOILER EXPLODING.

Everyone stops. Or jolts from the BOOM.

Abigale turns to run, but a thin piece of boiler shrapnel pierces through her lower back, just far enough to stay still while she begins to run.

The Russian Woman falls from the explosion, covering the baby.

Another piece of shrapnel shoots past the Russian Woman’s arm, grazing her. The metal also grazes the child’s head, embedding itself in the ground just inches away.

RUSSIAN WOMAN: Nikol!

The baby begins CRYING, and the woman stumbles back to her feet and begins running towards the river. The child is pressed against the Russian Woman’s chest.

Abigale remains standing, stunned. She reaches a tree and stands against it for support.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Hé toi!

Abigale doesn’t respond the first time.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Mademoiselle!

Abigale looks at him coming over.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Est-ce que vous allez bien?

Abigale nods her head. He grabs her hand and pulls her towards the river, where the other survivors have congregated.

While walking, she pulls the shrapnel out quickly and tosses it aside. She looks at her bloodstained hands from her wound. She WHIMPERS audibly.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Avez-vous dit quelque chose?

Abigale looks sickly, the color draining from her face. She nods anyways. Gently prodding the wound, she pushes her hand into the hole in her back. She WHIMPERS again.

The exploded locomotive lights the carriages behind it in flames. The passengers watch.

56. EXT. THE WRECK - THREE IN THE MORNING

Some fires have burned out, but the embers still glow slightly. The mass of people now have built a great fire, which many are sleeping around. The fire illuminates a blackened locomotive, its boiler casing gone and revealing its inner tubes.

The air around the wreck is calm. Unnaturally calm. It’s comparable to the lull after an enormous, all-night party. Except the air feels stale and the smell of death is everywhere.

The survivors are quietly reeling.

CRIES from the darkness are constant. Children trying to rest by the fire are WHINING.

Abigale and Claude stand next to each other by the fire.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Votre français est très bon.

Abigale looks at Claude, confused.

ABIGALE: What?

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Votre français C'est bon.

ABIGALE (Confused): Thank - Je vous remercie...? Je ... je-je l'ai appris à l'école.

She glances away, uncomfortable.

PAN: TO BELLANGER, WHO’S THREE PEOPLE AWAY FROM ABIGALE.

He has a broken, slightly bloodied arm - his bone having pierced through the skin. His arm is placed in a makeshift sling made from his uniform. There is a purple bruise forming across his face.

More people begin CALLING out for help.

Abigale grabs her arms, cringing at the pleas for help. Curling further and further into herself, she turns to the darkness with the intent to scream.

Claude stops her.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Ne soyez pas en colère, jeune mademoiselle. Nous ne pouvons rien faire. Et vous ne pouvez rien faire.

Subtitle: "Don’t be angry, young miss. There's nothing we can do. And there's nothing you can do."

Three separate fires move through the trees, illuminating people in distress. The fires gather - illuminating three men - who move the passenger closer to the river. They repeat this process.

Abigale looks at Claude and sighs. She nods, turning back to the fire. A thought occurs, and she turns back to the wreck.

ABIGALE: Qu'est-il arrivé?

Subtitle: "What happened?"

Claude shrugs.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Quelque chose. Nous avons explosé? On s'en fout?

Subtitle: "Something. We exploded? Who cares?"

Abigale tenses.

ABIGALE: Pourquoi es-tu si -

Subtitle: "Why are you being so - "

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Calme?

She nods.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Être hystérique ne sert à rien si cela ne donne rien.

Subtitle: "There’s no use in being hysterical if it doesn’t accomplish something."

BELLANGER: Miss Benjamin?

Abigale and Claude stop. She steps forward.

ABIGALE: Y-yes?

Bellanger stands and moves closer to Abigale. He puts his hand on her shoulder and sighs in relief.

BELLANGER: I’m so happy you’re okay!

A beat.

BELLANGER: Where’s everyone else?

Abigale watches him curiously.

ABIGALE: Who are you?

BELLANGER: I’m the conductor of the Simplon train.

Abigale physically moves him so the fire lights up his face.

BELLANGER: B-Bellanger.

She nods.

ABIGALE: You were in charge of my sleeping car.

Bellanger smiles, to the best of his ability, and nods.

BELLANGER: I’m glad you remember me, Miss Benjamin.

Abigale notices the protruding bone in Bellanger’s arm.

ABIGALE: Does it hurt?

BELLANGER: I’m alright.

Abigale pulls back. She gently prods the bloody bruise on the back of her head.

ABIGALE: Do you know what happened?

Bellanger gestures to sit beside her. She nods.

BELLANGER: I don’t. Anything could’ve happened. The points could’ve froze in place. A mistake in the signal box.

A pause.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Quoi?

BELLANGER: Anything could’ve happened. The points could’ve froze in place. A mistake in the signal box.

INSPECTOR CLAUDE: Je suis désolé, mais je ne comprends pas vraiment la terminologie ferroviaire.

Subtitle: "I’m sorry, but I don’t really understand railway terminology."

ABIGALE: Je vais vous expliquer ce que c'est pour vous demain matin. Est-ce juste?

Subtitle: "I’ll explain what it all is to you in the morning. Is that fair?"

Claude looks to her curiously.

ABIGALE: Mon frère, Jasper, travaille pour le LMS. difficile de ne pas comprendre la terminologie.

Subtitle: "My brother, Jasper, works for the LMS; it’s hard not to pick up on the terminology."

Claude raises his hand in understanding. He turns and proceeds back into the darkness.

Abigale sighs and puts her hand to her forehead.

Bellanger takes Abigale’s head in his hands.

BELLANGER: You might have a concussion.

Bellanger pulls out his watch.

BELLANGER: I want to know what time it is, but I keep forgetting that my watch is destroyed.

Bellanger shows her - his watch is shattered to the point where the gears are bent out of place. The face is destroyed and bits are missing. However, the clock’s hands are forever frozen on 12:39.

The WOMAN approaches them.

Two children begin CRYING.