Trains make for good stories

Here is your first writing sample! It's the first few paragraphs to a thriller novel. Would you want to keep reading? What do you like and dislike about it? Let me know in the comments!

If you feel like you might get angry reading the first few chapters, knowing full well that no other part of this book yet exists, then I recommend not reading it 😊

This is based off of a writing prompt where someone is riding on a train and then a woman enters the train compartment. Let's see what happens...

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The train stopped abruptly, nearly causing James to fly out of his seat. He righted himself, clutching the duffel bag tightly, aware of the stakes. He was a thin man in his mid-thirties, hair starting to show signs of grey near the temples. In this scenario, the hairs were a type of ruse, making him seem more distinguished and experienced than he was. Glancing out the window, he noted that this was not a normal stop--they were nowhere near a standard station. He could hear the faint sound of cop cars, slowly increasing in intensity as they inched closer to the halted train. He knew he had screwed up, and he was frantically flipping through pages of his training manual in his head, looking for advice on what to do next, hoping his photographic memory would come in handy. He figured he had about ten minutes of solitude to come up with a plan.

Just as James was beginning to sweat, the door clicked, and a white-gloved hand pushed the sliding cabin door open. It was her small green briefcase that James noticed first. It was old and tattered for sure, but that wasn’t what drew his eye to it. There was a key, dangling off the shoulder strap, glistening as it hit the light from the narrow cabin window. James stopped anxiously tapping his leg and felt a sense of calm as the small, slight women entered the cabin. She had short brown curly hair popping out the side of a green pillbox hat. Her eyes, also a striking bright green, were inquisitive and curious. She seemed to be similar in age to James, but reading people’s ages was never one of his strong suits.

The woman smiled slyly and turned to pull the door shut. James found it odd that she simply entered the car without inquiring as to whether there was space or whether her presence was acceptable. Not very courteous, he thought. As she sat down across from him, not saying a word, James noted the monogram on the front of the briefcase. ABK... Where had he seen those letters before?

The sound of sirens brought him back down to Earth. He glanced out the window, trying to ignore the woman and focus on his predicament. He observed a thick grove of trees just outside the window. If he left immediately, he might just make it to the edge of the forest before the police arrived. Holding his belongings close to his chest, he moved to exit the cabin. As he stood to leave, the woman rose out of nowhere and grabbed his wrist tightly. Eyeing the duffel bag, she said softly, “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”