by Patti Larsen
***
This time when the train slows I'm in position to see why. Rather than retreat as I'd been doing, I decide to join Ande and Socrates. I've been spending so much time on my own, too much, I'm actually craving conversation and contact with others. Has to be a good sign.
I sit on the edge of a console and listen to the two boys chatter back and forth. Most of what they say is gibberish to me, wiring and splicing and electric volts. And though I don't say anything at all, I feel myself connected to them, driving back the steady call of the calm rising up at times, seeking to take over. I need it, need the steady power it gives me, but my fear of who I’m becoming, of the person I am disappearing behind a mask of nothing, I wish I had another choice.
I'm almost knocked from my perch when a boy clatters into the cab, a look of excitement on his face.
“Station!”
He then turns and bolts out again before we can acknowledge he's been here.
“I g-g-guess we're stopping.” Ande starts shifting dials, slowing the flow of heat and water to the boiler and the train obeys him like he's asked her nicely.
“Not waiting for Chime?” I mean it seriously, but it comes out with humor.
Ande flashes me his amazing smile. “Give it five, four, three, t-t-two...”
The door slides open and Chime appears. “Station ahead,” she says. “Let's stop for a look.” Is she really that out of touch she can't feel the train quieting beneath her? I see Brick over her shoulder, the way Chime's mouth seems puckered and red and make the connection.
She's been busy and is still distracted. His hand reaches around her, cups her hip. When my eyes lift and meet his, he licks his lips.
Why do I feel like I want to vomit?
I ease past them, careful to avoid touching Brick on my way by, not sure why, but knowing if there is contact my nausea might win. I'm breathless when I reach the open air, heart pounding, temples aching from some compressed emotion I'm unable to process. My hands are shaking, cheeks hot and I'm lost inside myself so far I stumble back when I run right into someone.
Beckett's hands catch me, his face lowered over mine, concern in his blue eyes, just enough light from the cab behind me to see him clearly. My gaze locks on his lips and despite the disgust I felt moments ago I long to lock my mouth to his and never let him go.
He steps back a pace, still holding me, expression softening as if he knows what I'm thinking. “We're stopping then?” All casual, as if I wasn't about to pounce on him. Shame lights my cheeks again though I wonder of what exactly it is I have to be ashamed?
“Slowing at least,” I say, the words emerging level and unshaken. Somehow.
Beckett releases me, nods. Backs off. I follow him to the next car, eyes downward. I don't want to watch him. It makes the ache worse.
“Is this a smart idea?” Vander greets us as we enter. “We've only just left the Crawlers behind us half a day ago and we've been slowed down long enough they may have gained ground.”
“We're far enough ahead it should be okay,” I say, already heading for Poppy and the puppies. The dog looks up, greets me with a tail wag. Though I wished he'd followed me forward earlier as he always did, I didn't blame him for staying close to the babies after the incident with Brick. I crouch and stroke his soft ears. “Feel like exploring a little?”
He's on his feet, body quivering and I laugh. It has to be hard for him to be confined to the train. And if this next station is as quiet as Albuquerque, the respite will be worth it. I can't help but think the rest of the world might be empty. Los Angeles might be the last remaining pocket of humanity. Aside from the Crawlers and the little group who tried to stop us, we've seen no other humans since we left the west coast.
As much as I want there to be more living beings out there, I hope this place is quiet, too.
I turn and hug Poppy. “Coming?”
She gathers Shine in her arms while Beckett takes Shade. “They need to go outside,” she says. They've been using a small metal pan she found to do their business, though I know Poppy hates cleaning it. Outside will be good for them too. For all of us.
“Not until we're sure it's safe.” Beckett meets my eyes, but even he seems relaxed. Maybe I am being too complacent? “But we can move them up to the door at least so we're ready.”
The train huffs out one last sigh of steam, brakes squealing into the night. If there is someone living in the station or surrounds, they know we're here for certain, though I doubt anyone nearby would miss the sound of the train anyway.
We're not exactly stealthy.
***
Chapter Sixteen
My feet are grateful for solid ground as I step down onto the station walkway, the calm wrapping around me like an old friend. I welcome it and the heightened state of awareness it gives me, but feel it devouring more of me than ever. I try to ignore the whisper of fear in the back of my mind. The anxiety someday it will eat me up until only the fighting machine remains fades in favor of surveying my surroundings.
Vander descends next to me, the glow of his skin lighting enough of the platform I can tell someone's been here before us. The glass is intact, area reasonably clean of debris. Beckett's voice reaches me from above.
“Safe?”
I shrug, turn and help the dog down, taking a puppy from Beckett's hands as Poppy descends without asking first. “As we'll ever be, I suppose.” I look around, feel around. We're alone, at least for now. “But stay close,” I say to her, tapping the end of her nose with my fingertip.
“I'll be with her.” Beckett descends with the second puppy, handing the wriggling and excited Shade to Poppy. The sound of her giggles echo from the empty building and back to us.
I'm surprised to see Ande drop to my side. “Need to check the cutters,” he says before darting off, Socrates at his side, a lantern swinging between them. I'm about to follow when Brick and Chime land on the ground next to me and turn that way.
I wonder how smart it is to leave the train unoccupied, but can hardly blame the crew for wanting to stretch their legs and explore. Considering how empty our last stop was, it seems reasonable enough, in an unreasonable world. I'm as eager as the rest of them and not about to volunteer to stay behind.
I leave Beckett and Poppy, the puppies bounding in the long grass with joyful abandon, heading straight ahead to the station itself. The light follows me as Vander falls in step, the dog on my other side. It's nice to have them both there, even through the calm.
If it weren't for the eerie echo of voices and the chill light of Vander's luminescence, I could easily expect to see families and workers inside the station. Someone's been keeping it clean, or at least has prevented destruction. This fact sets off alarm bells, but when I step inside it's silent and dusty as the door swings shut behind me, lines of plastic chairs screwed to metal bars and the floor lining the room inside. A long counter, glassed in, sits behind them.
No one leaps out to attack. In fact, the quiet is as thick as the dust.
“Any ideas?” Vander's voice is low, almost respectful in its tone, but still carries. I know why he keeps his voice down; the same reason I almost hate to breathe. It feels like a cemetery almost, a shrine to the world that was. And while the dust is undisturbed, I can't help but get the feeling someone watches over this place, keeps it safe from destruction.
It has to be my imagination. I spot the town out the back doors, dark and quiet, peaks of taller buildings just catching the light of the moon, cold glow throwing them in stark silhouette against the starry sky.
I shrug to answer him at last, remembering he asked me a question after my long, pondering silence, as much as to shake off the odd tension the quiet has raised in me, calm or no calm. “It could be that no one survived around here.” I look around, sure I'm right. This must be the last memorial to a dead stop on the rail line, only preserved because everyone who could have desecrated it is long dead and gone.
Hope perks, mouth watering as the memory of somethi
ng wakes my taste buds. If that's the case, if this place is indeed intact, there might be vending machines with food in them. The very thought of chocolate makes me want to tear the place apart in search of it. So odd how I never missed it until now.
Vander peers around, superior vision sweeping the place. “What do you say, boy?” One hand reaches out to stroke the dog's ears. “Is it safe?”
The big lab sniffs the floor once and sneezes before sitting on his haunches to grin at us like he made a joke. And I guess he kind of did.
“This way.” Vander heads off to the right and I with him, now eager, seeing a moment later what he spotted with his powerful eyesight. Two large metal boxes, the very machines I've been thinking of, stand at attention near the far wall. Vander lifts one hand, swipes at the layer of dust on the glass. Prepackaged food, candy bars, bags of chips rest inside, untouched, preserved perfectly in their plastic wrap.
“I imagine the chips will be stale.” Vander grins. “But the chocolate should be okay.”
Saliva fills my mouth again with the sudden need for sugar, the memory of the flavor flooding my mind, tongue aching for a taste.
Before I can act, Vander taps the front of the machine with one fist. I swear he barely moves his hand, but the plastic coating shatters in a spider web of cracks, a fist-sized hole now gaping in the middle. He reaches inside, grasps the edge and pulls away a large chunk, setting it aside before repeating his act on the other. Within moments he's pressing a bar into my hands while he carefully unloads the remainder into the pockets of his jacket.
I rip the paper away, press the smooth, dark deliciousness to my nose and breathe deeply before cramming a huge bite into my mouth. A groan escapes, the chocolate melting, flooding my mouth with sweetness, making my cheeks tingle. Vander grins at me, using my pockets now as I stand there, eating my bar, the calm leaving me be.
Why does this simple act make me feel like a child? A very happy, very giggly child.
It's hard to retreat, to follow him back to the others, knowing I have to share. My sudden selfish feelings startle me. And fall away the moment Poppy sees what I'm holding in my hand.
“Chocolate!” She bounds up to me, as much a puppy as the happy, barking ones at her feet. Vander hands her a bar, then Beckett, doling out the treats to the grinning kids who appear like magic at the thought of such a delight. Even Chime and Brick appear, helping themselves and I watch Beckett trot off to take two forward for Socrates and Ande.
My bar gone, regret I'd not savored it bittersweet, I leave the others to their happy snacking and go back inside the station. Again Vander joins me, though I notice he's not eating himself.
“I'm fine,” he says. “Let's see what's in the other one.”
The second is a drink dispenser, full of cans of soda. By now we're not alone, more of the crew inside exploring. I leave Vander surrounded by eager kids waiting impatiently for their drink as he fishes them out of the now smashed front panel one by one.
I wander ahead, past the ticket counter, toward another door at the far end of the station. The entrance, presumably. What lies beyond? I can see the town more clearly now, the outline lit in the distance.
Moonlit. But no. Not so. I've deceived myself, perhaps only seeing what I wanted to see. There is light and it has nothing to do with the swollen moon. The very moment the dog growls and grabs my jacket cuff with his teeth, my mind registers I can see outside despite the dead of night. Cold, harsh light, moving, bobbing as though alive. I turn, start to run, to shout, glance to the left only to see more light through a window, moving forward, the outline of a body.
“Brights!” The word escapes me, the gathered kids before me freezing in a momentary tableau before they bolt for the exit, Vander still holding two cans in his hands.
His eyes flicker over my shoulder, face grim. “Go,” he says as the door crashes open behind me, the place suddenly flooding with cold illumination. “Trio, go!”
I look back, spot the crowd of Brights surging forward and turn. I'm not running. I'm never leaving Vander behind again.
They reach us in a wave, but the calm has found me again and I'm not afraid. Not for the first time, the dog becomes my battle partner, distracting, attacking, his teeth and claws as effective as my feet and hands.
Brights fall before us, easily. Where is Vander's strength in them? They don't seem to have his speed either, or his stamina. Either that or I'm growing stronger myself. But I don't think that's the case.
It only takes a moment for the crowd to fall back, for them to retreat. I hear a grunt to my right, turn to see Vander struck from behind, his body lifted, carried. I move after him only to have hands fall on me, pull me backward.
“Trio, no!” Beckett pants in my ear. “It's too dangerous.”
I fight free, but too late, they are gone and my friend with them. My fist impacts Beckett's chest so hard it drives him backward with a grunt of pain, though I pulled my punch to save him any real harm. Anger mingles with the calm.
“I'm not leaving him behind.” Whatever Beckett sees in my eyes convinces him stopping me was the worst possible mistake. He sighs and shakes his head.
“Idiot,” he mutters even as he sags a little. “I'll come with you.”
***
Chapter Seventeen
I don't wait for Beckett, already running toward the retreating lights. The crew must have fought off the attacking Brights, and again I wonder why they seem so weak.
The exit lands me on a cracking concrete walkway, two steps and I'm running down an asphalt road, the illumination up ahead enough I can see to leap over areas damaged by nature and time. I pass a sign, the name unreadable, not caring anyway where we are or who might have lived here once.
Only Vander matters.
Again hands grasp me, but this time I slow on purpose, the dog tight to my side. The Brights have slowed, the movement of light centralized, still flowing as if they are moving around, but more as if they've gathered in one place, the eddying of light like waves of water above the trees and buildings in the way.
“Careful, at least?” Beckett hisses in my ear, not releasing me from his grip. “We have no idea what we're dealing with.”
“They aren't strong like him. Not the Brights you know.” I strain mentally to be free of his grasp, but hold back. He's right, as much as I hate to admit it.
“I know.” Beckett finally releases me. “But we're still outnumbered. We need help, Trio.” Beckett's voice penetrates my need to go after Vander.
Doesn’t he understand? I can’t turn around now. “I'll go on alone. You fetch the others.” Again his hand grasps my arm, but without strength as if begging me not to fight him.
“Please, Trio.” He tugs a little, just a little. “We'll go after him, I promise. But we need a plan.”
I don't say our friend could be dead by then. Brights are cannibals, though I have no idea if they would eat one of their own. For all I know, with his strength and abilities, they might revere Vander. But I'm not willing to risk it.
My feet are made of lead, the same heavy metal flowing in my veins as I relent at last and retreat with Beckett.
“What are you two doing?” Chime's screech reaches me the moment we pass through the station doors and onto the platform. Kids hang over the railings, peek out from the open car. The engine chuffs smoke. Ande must have fired it up already. “We have to go!”
“No.” I stop moving forward even though Beckett takes another step. “They have Vander.”
“I lost half of my people back there,” Chime growls at me, gesturing the way we've come, reminding me of the crew left behind in Los Angeles as if I'm not aware of who she lost. Of whom my flight has sacrificed beyond her people. “I'm not risking the rest for one of yours.”
“That one of mine saved you earlier,” I say. “Without him we'd be in Crawler custody.”
“Without you I'd be safe and sound delivering freight.” She's trembling, whole body shaking with anger. But she remains on the
train, Brick beside her. He doesn't look angry, not at all. Is that a smirk pulling the corner of his mouth?
Not my problem. “Fine,” I say. “Go on without me. Vander and I will catch up somehow.”
Beckett spins back. “No way.” He looks up at Chime, his desperation clear. “Please, don't leave without us.”
“It's not worth the risk.” Brick crosses his arms over his chest. As if his words give her strength, Chime does the same.
“We're leaving,” she snaps, “with or without you.”
“No,” Ande says from the door to the cab, face sad but resolute, stutter diminished as he faces her down. “We're not.”
Chime spins on him, anger flashing. “You get this train moving!”
Ande shakes his head, his own temper appearing for the first time. “I won't!” He stomps one foot. “And you can't make it go without me, Chime, so d-d-don't even try it.” Ande meets my eyes, his shadowed by the light glow behind him. “Hurry,” he says.
I nod and turn, leaving them all behind. I should never have listened to Beckett, should have gone on no matter what. I've wasted precious time on a lost cause, my heart berating me for even thinking Chime would understand. Footfalls beside me tell me Beckett's joined me, at least. I'm surprised to hear more, glance over my shoulder to see a very angry Chime and still smirking Brick running along behind.
It's almost shocking enough to break my calm, but not quite.
I don't slow this time, my stride lengthening out if anything, carrying me in a ground-eating pace into the town. It's the first time I've run like this and for a moment I rejoice, certain I could go on and on forever and never tire. Vander's plight breaks through the moment I pound my way around the corner of a building and into the center of town.
It's a small place, with a central square, surrounded by old buildings. The place is lit like daytime, if the sun was as coldly lit as the moon.
