CHAPTER EIGHT

Last night had been both wonderful and hideous. After finally getting physical, finding out it was on the instructions of strangers, to make other strangers accept them, had been like a slap to the face. Tavish hadn’t actually wanted Mir, any more than he’d done since they’d met. He was just carrying on with his ‘do-gooder’ mission. It hurt. Mir wished it’d changed the way they felt about him, but it didn’t. Even in the throes of the heat drug, Mir had never begged for an alpha’s bite before. But they had wanted Tav’s last night, and they still did.

Even in the rush to pack and get ready, Mir didn’t miss the scent of antiseptic anti-inflammatory ointment on Tav’s wrists as he came out of the bathroom. The scent threatened to pull their mind back to the cells in Hell, where the chemical aroma battled with omega musk in a never-ending war for dominance. Tav didn’t mention the wounds, and he kept his shirt sleeves rolled down so Mir couldn’t see how bad they were. They certainly weren’t going to ask to look in case it riled his alpha ego. Besides, Tav was busy scribbling instructions for the people coming to farm sit.

The three Blackwell betas arrived in a carriage with two saddle mounts tied to the back before Tav could pin Mir down to deliver one of his sensible and perfectly logical explanations. At least their rumbling animosity, guilt, and hurt about last night stopped them from dwelling on what would happen over the next few days.

What made it worse was that Mir perfectly understood Tav’s motivation. Mir could always smell if one of the alphas in hell had a mate. The smell of mating fluid and spunk sank into the skin over time, even if the person washed thoroughly. One time wouldn’t be enough for Tav’s scent to mix with Mir’s after washing. The disinfectants the betas in Hell used to hose Mir down after visiting an alpha removed their scent enough to not bother the next one. Even though Mir was mad at him, they hadn’t washed last night. The lie that they were mated would be far more believable if their scents were detectable on each other. They’d even rubbed at the beard rash they’d spotted in the mirror this morning just to make it a little more obvious.

Two of the betas had disappeared in the barn by the time Mir came out of the house, still munching on a slice of toast. Then they were in the carriage and heading down the lane, light provided by lanterns hanging from the front of the carriage. Traveling in a horse-drawn vehicle by lantern light reminded Mir of the wagon they’d ridden in during their initial flight from their childhood home. This time, rather than a silent beta, Mir had Tavish next to them, holding their hand all the way. As much as he had annoyed Mir last night, they trusted him with every fiber of their body and their pups’ lives.

The early start also meant Mir missed the spot where they’d come out onto the road during that frantic, exhausting run through the forest all those weeks ago. Although, they probably wouldn’t recognize it anyway as they’d been exhausted, injured, scared witless, and drugged up to the eyeballs. Plus, there were leaves on the trees now. The left side of the track appeared as serene as the right side, but deep in those woods, they didn’t know how far away, lay Hell.

People travel on trains every day. It’s a normal, perfectly safe mode of transport. You saw them go past every day at home. They didn’t scare you then, and they don’t scare you now.Mir’s internal pep-talk didn’t help much as the horribly fresh-faced Denen guided the pair of ponies that drew their parents’ trap into the station yard.

Mir had no doubt that some of the alphas and betas who visited that hideous place used this train because, according to Tav, this was the only line that came this far north. Even if they didn’t bump into anyone who might recognize them, especially with their new clothes, short hair, and big belly, Mir might recognize them. And they couldn’t kick up a fuss.

Tavish was a big alpha, but he’d be like a lone domesticated dog yapping at a pack of wolves if Mir got recognized. Mir was putting Tav’s life in danger just by being here, but then again, he’d been in danger ever since he’d stopped his wagon on that road.

Tavish gave Mir’s hand a squeeze as Denen got down from the front and started to unstrap the two suitcases they had packed.

Mir jumped when the engine behind the station building blew its horn. They might not be able to see it, but they could definitely hear and smell it.

“On a scale of one to ten, how scared are you?” Tavish murmured.

“Why?”

“It’s a technique doctors use, both for pain and anxiety to help patients deal with things, as well as assessing how they are feeling. I can tell from your scent to a certain extent, but I think it’d be useful for you to start to think about your fear in a clinical sense as if it’s something that can be controlled, at least a little.”

“So ten is the most frightened I’ve ever been?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I guess I’m at a two, but I’m still in the cart.”

“When you were in the old part of the house on your own last week?”

Mir didn’t hesitate. If there were two things they knew about, it was fear and pain. “Four.”

He squeezed their hand. “At least it’s going down a little.”

People milling around, not a huge number, but it was more than they’d seen in one place since they’d manifested. This was a small, very provincial town, and they were heading somewhere far more populated. Proto-alpha teen Mir would have thought this place a little boring; pregnant Mir found it crowded and stressful.

Two became three as Tavish helped Mir down, and he needed to. Mir hadn’t seen their feet in weeks. On the one hand, they loved that the babies were growing well, but their lack of agility meant they had to depend on Tavish a little more every day. If a threat appeared, the old Mir would have been able to dodge, fight, or run, but like this, they was a sitting duck.

Gritting their teeth—they would not give in to hormone-driven anxiety—Mir started for the back of the cart before Tavish could ask “Are you alright?” yet again. The mother hen routine was getting damn old, but every time Mir glanced down at their swelling belly, they understood it.

As Mir reached to take their case from Denen, Tavish appeared and gave Mir an alpha frown.

“No. You aren’t going to be lifting or carrying anything.”

“I’m quite capable,” Mir started, but was silenced by Tavish’s frown.

“I know you are, but you’re already carrying three babies. I think that’s enough, don’t you?”

He had a point, so Mir released the bag that Tavish had purchased, as well as all the things in it. He picked up both bags without a problem. The brief banter helped to disguise their location until they followed Tavish up the steps and into the red brick station. The blue folding doors had been chained back, allowing free access to the dim interior of the ticket hall. Opposite the entrance, similar doors had been folded back, to allow passengers out onto the platform. The signs hanging on the walls might as well have been written in some dead sapien language, as Mir’s foggy eyesight only revealed blurs.

They couldn’t see that well through the people, all of whom seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Scents and noises battered after the quiet of the farm.

I’ve been in the station at home many times to help the drovers load cattle. Yes, I didn’t go in the ticket office, but I can do this.

The ticket hall thronged with passengers, all dressed smartly in conventional, gender-appropriate clothes. Kilts, slacks, and dresses marked gender as well as size and hair length. The quality of that clothing and the activity of those wearing it screamed their status. Mir also spotted an occasional omega with or without children, but they always had at least an alpha with them. Most family groups had an affiliated beta or two as well. The gazes of several travelers rested on Mir. They set their jaw against the urge to shrink down or hide behind Tavish who joined the line waiting to buy tickets.

Do they recognize me, or are they just looking down their noses at the big, beta-ish, pregnant omega? The old Mir would have said something, but back then, they’d been able to run, to fight. And if they got a beating, so be it. They’d get the fucker back at some point. Now, they had to watch out for the babies too, and they couldn’t run.

Mir glanced behind them only to see that Denen had already disappeared. No escape that way, and soon, thanks to the train, they’d be too far away from home to get back under their own steam. As it was, it’d probably take two days to walk home, but they could do that. They would do that. Yes, going home, feeling safe again, that was what—

“Number?” Tav’s whisper came from only inches away from Mir’s ear.

“Four.” Just saying the number they’d been known by in Hell shot their anxiety higher, but Tavish didn’t give them time to think as he fired another question.

“Is it the thought of getting on a train or the people?”

“Both.” And the questions, but I know you’re only trying to help. Their hands still clenched, knuckles whitening against the urge to grab the knife hidden at the small of their back.

Tavish put the bags down and pulled Mir into a hug, big arms draping around their shoulders and pulling their nose against the skin above his collar. His calming scent wrapped around Mir like a shield, giving protection from their surrounding and their own head. “We don’t have to do this. They’re my family, and I’ll deal with them when they turn up here.”

When.Mir focused on the word. Tavish had no doubt his family would visit if Mir didn’t make this trip. Having multiple strangers, including possibly two alphas, a stuck-up omega, and multiple entitled betas, invading the only place Mir had felt safe in a decade, brought back a flash of memory.

Ma’s father and alpha brother invaded Mir’s safe, cozy childhood home. They contaminated Mir’s world, changing and defiling it. The laughter, the derision. That had been worse than the physical pain, but not as big as the hole Ma being repossessed left. Makish had thought his tiny family safe. They hadn’t been. If he had been more proactive, maybe…

If there was one thing Mir had learned in Hell, it was that maybes didn’t change a damn thing. You had to deal with the now and confront the future, not hide from it.

Fighting hard, Mir pummeled the debilitating fear back into its mental box. What had been done to them would not spoil the triplets’ future. This was the only thing Tavish had ever asked Mir to do for him, rather than something for Mir’s own good. And with the paperwork involved, this was for Mir’s and the babies’ benefit too. If they gave in now, Mir knew that they’d never leave Tavish’s farm of their own free will. They wouldn’t take the children shopping, to social gatherings, or see them in their own homes when they were grown.

Meeting his eyes, Mir said, “I’m not going to let them win.”

Tavish’s lips pressed together. “I really don’t give a shit what my family thinks. Pleasing them isn’t worth you being this upset. We’ll rent a cart and—”

“I didn’t mean your family.”

Tavish held Mir’s gaze for a few seconds, searching for something Mir couldn’t fathom. Then he picked up both bags in one hand and took Mir’s in the other. “In that case, let’s go kick fear’s backside, and then you can kick my stepmother’s.”

Mir decided that fear must work out a lot as its backside was rock solid as they walked across the ticket hall to the office to buy their tickets. Mir kept a death grip on Tavish’s hand while dipping their head, trying to hide their face despite their short hair. The dusty wooden floor and the various footwear that came and went from their field of vision didn’t provide many clues about the identities of the people around them apart from their gender, but Mir couldn’t raise their head in case someone recognized them.

Yes, their appearance was quite different now from when they’d been in Hell, but even without being in heat, their scent might give them away. There could very well be someone here who would recognize them, and Mir wouldn’t have a clue they’d been spotted unless the fucker was close enough for Mir to smell them.

Mind whirling, senses stretching, Mir didn’t realize they’d reached their destination until Tavish stopped. A brief glance up showed a desk with a bored-looking blond beta staring at them. They was a total stranger, both from their appearance and scent. The two betas who waited in line behind them weren’t familiar either, although having people standing so close ratcheted the stupid anxiety up another notch. Seeing what people were doing was important, just in case they meant them harm.

“Just getting the tickets, nothing to worry about,” Tavish murmured before turning his attention to the attendant.

“Is she afraid of traveling?” the beta asked Tavish, condescension dripping in his voice. He clearly didn’t think omegas were capable of answering simple questions.

“No, I’m afraid of idiot betas who think omegas can’t string two words together,” Mir mumbled to themself.

“Just a little. It makes them a bit cranky,” Tavish said confidently as he squeezed Mir’s hand in warning. Tavish using the beta pronoun decreased the scowl produced by ‘cranky’ comment.

“Them? Ok, right.” The ticket clerk snorted as if Tavish had delivered the funniest joke they’d ever heard.

Asshole.Anger was a far easier emotion to process than fear. The strategy had saved them from complete meltdown in Hell too many times to count.

Tavish leaned down so his mouth was near Mir’s ear. “Be nice. It’s not their fault they’re a wannabe omega who wants to get under my kilt.”

Mir let out a most unomegalike snort of amusement, which made the beta lose their ‘sympathy’ face. It appeared that they’d been wrong, and Kev had been right. Humor was a damn sight better at fighting fear than anger, although Mir doubted even Tavish would have found anything to laugh at in Hell.

“Is that why you let her play at being a beta, even that far along?”

Tavish went still, and he seemed to get taller. “I don’t ‘let’ them do anything. Everyone, even you, has the right to wear the clothes they feel comfortable in and style their hair how they wish. The tickets?”

The beta’s eyes widened and their head shrank down into their shoulders. “Sorry, sir, of course. My apologies.”

After paying for their tickets, Tavish led Mir out onto the platform while the betas in the line behind them whispered.

“Chin up. We have nothing to be ashamed about.”

Mir raised their head and concentrated on their surroundings rather than the people. Despite the canopy designed to shield passengers from potentially inclement weather, the scrubbed concrete platform raised three feet from the track left Mir feeling exposed, on show. Averting their gaze from the open field opposite, Mir focused on the platform itself. Long, wooden benches stood against the wall of the station building. Brown and cream ceramic tubs with bright flowers and waste bins were set out in regimented pairs. Not a scrap of rubbish or a smudge of dirt marred the scene. If the beta in the ticket kiosk also maintained the facilities, Mir cut them a little slack. Even though their customer service skills left a lot to be desired, they seemed finicky about the cleanliness of their station.

A steam whistle came from down the track. Mir’s heart jumped in their chest, and they squinted up the track in the direction of the noise. The straight track, with trees on either side, stretched into the blurry distance, although several seconds passed before the engine came into view. The black front of the engine contrasted with the deep blue of the rest of the huge cylinder that contained the power cells and the accents of brightly polished brass trim.

The brown and cream carriages came to a rattling halt, and the previously static people leaped into action. Porters headed to the freight wagons at the rear of the train to load goods, including yellow industrial power cells that might have originated on Tav’s farm. The goods from the south would have been unloaded when the train passed through the previous evening.

There were very few passengers on the train, which was understandable considering Langan was the second to last station on the line. A uniformed beta walked down the platform, opening the doors to unoccupied compartments. Mir stared at the maw waiting to swallow them up and take them away from the brief oasis of peace and security they’d found. The urge to turn and run was almost overwhelming.

“Fifteen minutes, gentlefolk, the train will leave in fifteen minutes. Next stop is in half an hour, so please make use of the facilities or stretch your legs,” the station attendant called. It felt like a countdown to Mir’s execution.

A carriage door slammed shut, and Mir twitched. They’d heard the noise before, but Mir hadn’t been able to stand, thanks to the drugs. Not much was clear after that blond alpha fucker stabbed them with the needle, but they remembered his arms around them while he whispered reassurance that they were nearly there and not to worry. With the realization, Mir’s head whipped around, examining every alpha on the platform. Was the blond alpha here? Was the Owner?

“You alright?” Tavish asked, concern lacing his low voice.

Mir shook their head, not being able to decide whether they hated being treated as if they was going to fall apart any minute, which was probably true, or being surrounded by strangers. At least Mir hoped they were strangers.

“We can rebook for the sleeper service tonight if you want, but I thought traveling in the daytime when you can see everything might be easier. Just say the word.”

A long-nosed alpha who’d been standing with three betas walked up to the carriage next to the one in front of Mir, and if Tavish had asked, Mir would’ve given him the number six. The slight breeze carried the strange alpha’s scent away from them, so Mir had no idea if they’d met. The urge to look, to see if he seemed like the sort of alpha who enjoyed the games in Hell, gripped Mir’s chest and squeezed tight.

“He’s not even looking at you,” Tav murmured, “you’re fine.”

Mir shrank against Tavish as they walked past. The alpha didn’t even twitch. God, I’m such a wuss. Back in the day, proto-alpha Mir would have been laughing and pointing at such a pathetic omega, but although they wanted to, Mir couldn’t let Tavish’s hand go. However, they did manage to loosen the death grip they had on his arm with their other hand.

“Well done,” Tavish whispered, which pissed Mir off and pleased them in equal amounts.

Mir wondered if any of the beta porters and station staff were unaffiliated betas or if they were just ‘hired out’ by their alpha.

If a beta affiliated to an alpha, they was essentially as much the alpha’s property as an omega. Betas couldn’t unaffiliate once their oath had been made and accepted. Beta affiliation contracts, like omega guardian contracts, were legal documents. In return for the alpha’s protection, the beta agreed to obey without question, which included having their services hired out. Many alphas who hired out their betas let their betas keep some of the money they earned as well as providing accommodation, food, medical care, and protection from other alphas throughout their lives.

When a beta came of age at eighteen, they usually affiliated to either their father or an alpha brother, if they had one. They could also choose to sign up with another alpha or none at all. Omegas never got that choice because they weren’t considered rational enough to decide their own futures. If Mir had stayed a beta, they liked to think they would never have affiliated to Makish. What had Cor and Tor done? Were they still on the farm watching the trains rattle past and wondering about the lives of the people on them?

Fuck, does this train go past the farm?Mir had never thought to ask the location of Tavish’s childhood home.

The injection of adrenaline woke the babies. One decided to play football with Mir’s bladder while another used their ribs to do pull-ups, at least that’s what it felt like. Mir decided that the Three-Faced God must be all alpha, despite what the priests said, because an omega wouldn’t play such a horrible trick.

Mir, like every pregnant person before them, had discovered that babies found their ma being active soporific. It was only when Mir tried to rest that they started performing gymnastics, particularly at night. Combined with their inexplicably pea-sized bladder and nightmares, long periods of sleep were impossible. Now that Mir could rest, almost whenever they wanted to, their body wouldn’t allow it. After the babies were born, they would keep Mir awake tending to their needs at all hours as Cor and Tor had done. Mir looked forward to that with almost deranged excitement.

Unconsciously, Mir began shifting from leg to leg, rocking the babies from side to side to soothe them. They didn’t deserve to experience Mir’s anxiety secondhand.

“Are you all right? The toilets are down the platform and behind the ticket office, if you need to go. They’ll be loading the train for at least another ten minutes.”

Mir sighed in exasperation. “Let’s get something straight. Yes, this is stressful for me, but I’m not going to have a meltdown, and I heard what the station master said. I have ears, even if they’re not as good as yours.

“I’m also not going to pee myself if you don’t remind me to go to the toilet. If I need to go, I’ll let you know, or I’ll just find a restroom. I am capable of that. The babies are just a little restless now that I’ve stopped moving, that’s all.”

“So they like traveling more than their ma does?”

Mir scowled at him, but it wasn’t very successful. “Very funny. I hope you like diaper changing in the middle of the night because with three and no betas around, I’m going to need help.”

To Mir’s deep satisfaction, Tavish shut up, although a smile played around the corner of his lips as he checked the movements of the other passengers. Mir didn’t expect him to tend to another alpha’s offspring, but the fact that he wasn’t immediately refusing was reassuring.

One of the babies, maybe more than one, started to tap dance on Mir’s bladder. Mir glared at Tavish as if it was his fault and poked him with a finger.

“Don’t say a damn thing,” Mir growled, let go of his hand, and stalked toward the restroom. Tavish didn’t follow them, which pleased Mir but also had their heart pumping faster.

Mir stopped after they banged through the blue door emblazoned with REST ROOM to see three more doors leading off the central area labeled O, A, and B, in gold letters so big even Mir didn’t have to squint.

They so didn’t want to go into the omega bathroom. They’d never done that in their life, and they didn’t want to start now. Who knew what was in there? A glance over their shoulder revealed Tavish hastily wiping a smirk off his face. Mir gave him the finger. A gasp of shock came from behind them.

Mir spun on their heel and nearly collided with a mature omega exiting the bathroom. Her pink lace dress reminded him of the toilet roll cover his Ma had loved, but her expression was anything but sweet.

“How disgusting. You should be ashamed of yourself, especially in your condition.”

Mir scowled at the stuck-up, makeup-caked, petite blonde, then the devil stepped in. They gave her a bright smile and winked. “Disgusting can be fun, know what I mean?”

“You, you,” the omega stuttered, face getting redder by the second.

Mir dragged their gaze up and down her, before adding, “Yeah, you know what I mean. Prissy ones like you are always the dirtiest in the sack.” Mir carried on into the bathroom, leaving the omega standing there with her mouth open.

Clean, with a nose-tickling artificial floral scent, the bathrooms was thankfully empty. Although, if they hadn’t needed to pee this badly, Mir might have turned tail. Pink doors, pink soap, pink towels, pink toilet rolls hung on polished chrome toilet roll holders. The white tiles around the vanity unit even had pink flowers on them. Seriously, did the people who built this think omegas curled up and died if they didn’t see something pink ten times a day? The colors and scent made this almost worse than their cell in Hell. Well, it didn’t, but it still put their teeth on edge.

The heavy frosting on the only window made Mir bet they wouldn’t be able to see through it even if they pressed their nose against it. Got to protect the omegas from peeping Toms. Got to protect the property of alphas more like.

One of the two stalls reminded Mir of the beta stalls they’d used as a pup, but the other contained a wooden baby changing table and an armchair where an omega could feed a child, as well as a sink, basin, and toilet. The regret that they could no longer go in the beta/teen bathroom and would never go in the alpha bathroom like the ones they’d snuck into as a proto-alpha warred with the happiness that this time, they’d get to keep the triplets. Given the choice, they wouldn’t give these pups up for anything, even if it meant being exposed to this over-the-top level of pink.

For the first time, Mir decided an omega dress might be preferable to the stretchy, beta sweatpants that were getting tighter by the day as they struggled to pull them back up after sitting down to pee. Standing up to urinate was no longer possible as they couldn’t see their embarrassing small cock around their belly anymore. Knowing their luck, if they’d tried to pee standing up, they probably would’ve pissed all over the floor. At least that might cover some of the floral stink.

The short trickle they produced felt disappointingly small compared to the urgency of the impulse to release it. Rather than a dress, Mir decided to ask Tavish if they could borrow one of his alpha kilts when they got back.

Tavish’s lips were pressed in a thin line when Mir came out, so they automatically rounded their shoulders as they walked back to him. Proper hunching could only happen for a few moments now as Mir had to hold their breath to do it, thanks to the triplets reducing Mir’s lung capacity and organ space.

“I’ve just been lectured by an alpha because you upset his omega. Did you really say she was disgusting?”

Mir glanced down at their dark green shirt, and although they couldn’t see the black beta sweatpants or the wonderfully comfortable running shoes. So very different from the offended pink-clad omega.

“Mir, I asked you a question.” The alpha tone in his voice made Mir wince.

“Not really.”

He growled in the back of his throat. “What does ‘not really’ mean?”

Mir shrugged and relayed the few words they’d exchanged with the omega.

“That was wrong of you.”

Defiance bubbled, and Mir glared up at him. “I’m meant to just take it if people look at me as if I’m something they scraped off the bottom of their shoe?” Without turning, Mir could see the omega in question surrounded by a group of betas, dabbing at her eyes with a lace-trimmed handkerchief, a fucking pale pink one. Mir hoped the omega’s eye makeup would stain the delicate fabric beyond the ability of even the most enthusiastic beta to clean.

“They are watching, and I told them that I’d have a word with you about it. In the future, please ensure the person you insult hasn’t got a six-foot-three alpha and five large betas in tow.”

That he was right didn’t curb Mir’s resurrecting proto-alpha temper. “You sound just like my father. ‘Make sure you assess the opposition before committing yourself Mir; if you don’t think you can win, run and fight another day,’” they parroted. “Are you going to tell me to hit hard and hit first, too? Because that doesn’t work well against alphas after the first time.”

Tavish blinked. “Your father gave you fighting lessons?”

“Every bloody day since I was five. I know you think I’m a scaredy cat, but I can whip every omega here right now, and I could take most of the betas too, if I didn’t have a full load on board.”

Tavish chuckled, then schooled his face into a solemn expression as he murmured to himself, “I should not have thought that.”

Mir grinned and bumped their shoulder against his bicep. “Shouldn’t have thought what?”

Tavish scratched at his growing beard. “I just imagined you delivering a right hook to my stepmother and her sprawling in a muddy puddle. I’ve been wanting to do that since I was ten.”

“Wouldn’t I get into trouble?”

He grinned. “Not a chance, you’re pregnant, but I would. It would be worth it, though.” The smile dropped off his face as he realized what he’d said. “And by saying that, I, in no way whatsoever, want you to assault Natelle, or anyone else while we’re on my father’s land, got it?”

Mir couldn’t help pouting. “What if I’m really good? Can I do it then?”

Tavish chuckled again as he put his arm around Mir’s shoulders. The engine driver tooted the whistle, which made Mir jump.

The beta from the ticket office cried out, “All aboard!”

“Time to face the music, my little kitten.”

Mir’s eyebrows scrunched so hard they imagined them touching. “Kitten? Are you serious?”

“Oh yes, I think it suits you down to the ground. You, Mir, appear to be all sweet and adorable, just like a lynx kitten, but anyone who tries to give you a tickle needs to watch carefully so they don’t get scratched or bitten.”

“I am not adorable,” Mir ground out.

Tavish rubbed a thumb across Mir’s cheek. His serious expression stopped Mir from jerking away. The public display of affection was unexpected, but it warmed Mir’s heart.

Thinking about it, kitten was better than most of the names Mir had been called over the years. Going up on their toes, Mir pecked him on the cheek. “I won’t murder you if you call me that again. Or Freckles. That’s ok too.”

Tavish snorted. “Why thank you, your majesty.”

Squaring their shoulders, Mir eyed the cream and dark brown carriage in front of them. “Let’s do this thing.”

Out of the corner of their eye, Mir noticed a beta who had been waiting farther down the platform, hurrying out of the station instead of toward the carriages.