Darkness.
A SOUND slowly builds: the rhythmic rocking of a TRAIN'S WHEELS over RAILROAD TRACKS...
INT. HIGH SPEED TRAIN - MORNING
COLTER jolts awake. Sunlight hits his face.
He blinks. A stunned beat. He's disoriented.
Slowly he turns his head to one side...
PASSENGERS. Filling most of the seats. Office workers on their morning commute into a city.
Turning the other way, he‘s confronted with a window. Trees flash by, splitting the rising sunlight into a hypnotic strobe pattern.
Colter looks to be thirty years old. A military buzz cut. A disciplined physique, lean and spare, almost gaunt. Skin burnished by years of desert sandstorms and equatorial sun. His expression, prematurely aged by combat, is perpetually wary, sometimes predatory, accustomed to trouble.
Despite his military bearing, Colter wears a button down shirt and navy sports coat. On his wrist is a digital watch. It reads 7:40 a.m.
He swallows. A strange, creeping panic.
He has no idea where he is.
Source: ScriptShadow, Source Code by Ben Ripley
