“I take it your meeting with Geoff didn’t go well.” She knew all about his determination to get an expedition sent to the mountains. It was his second obsession. The first one was with that broken piece of junk around his neck.
“My meeting went as expected. No, no, and no,” he complained. “I don’t understand their stubborn refusal to look at every option.”
“Who’s to say they didn’t? The mountains have always been seen as a place of death, not life.”
“Geoff tried to say there was nothing there, but I know he’s wrong. It’s the answer to what’s coming.” Not for the first time, he clutched at the talisman he wore.
“Then you’ll be glad to know you can go looking for it,” she said a little too sweetly. Why wouldn’t he look at her? “We’ll be close enough to them at my aunt’s that you can explore them for yourself.”
“Me?” He sounded so surprised. “I’m not an adventurer.”
“And what makes an explorer?” she asked with an arched brow.
“I have no experience.”
“Isn’t that why it’s called learning?”
He snorted. “You have seen how clumsy I am.”
“On many an occasion. Practice does help with that.” She couldn’t help but smile.
Especially as he huffed. “I’ve practised falling enough already.”
“Perhaps I’ll go with you. We can both climb up the mountain. Then you’ll have a witness when you find nothing on the other side.”
“Ha. Ha,” he grumbled. Yet he wasn’t angry with her. Finally he glanced at her. A shy man with unkempt hair. “I brought the last of a chocolate bar I had. Would you like it?”
For a friend, he knew how to make her wet. Chocolate and the scent of his cologne. But forget sitting beside him to eat it. He’d pulled out a book, on the countryside of all things.
She didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was woefully out of date. He’d soon see.
Night fell, and yet, through their window, there was still light as the gas lamps lit, illuminating the streets of the sprawling city. They twinkled as the train rushed by. She stood to peek outside, needing to stretch her limbs.
Of course, the train hit a lump on the track, jolting hard enough she lost her balance. Jool caught her and drew her into his lap, keeping her from falling.
She stared at him. Mere inches away. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Said in a low voice she’d not heard often from him.
Sitting in his lap proved pleasant, and she tried to prolong it by running her hand over his bristly cheek. “You should stop shaving.”
“Grow a beard?” He snorted.
“You should. I think you’d look dashing.” She stroked her finger along his jawline.
“Then I guess I’ll have to grow one.”
“Anything about me I should change?” she asked teasingly. She tingled with warmth as she felt a hardness pressing against her bottom. Definitely more than a friendly erection.
“You’re perfect.” Said as he shifted her to the seat beside him and tucked his hands in his lap. A shame it was dark. She’d have liked to see if his cheeks changed colors.
Then she clued in on his words. She leaned against his shoulder. “I’m glad you came with me.”
“As if I’d let you leave without me.” The most flirtatious thing he’d ever said to her. “What will your aunt say to your bringing me along?”
“About time,” she blurted out. Her cheeks heated. “That is—I mean—” She finally settled on saying, “She’s heard a lot about you.”
The lulling motion of the train put her to sleep on his shoulder, drooling. But he didn’t seem to mind. They both dozed on and off, eating the paltry snacks they’d brought because the train no longer offered a meal service. The onboard lavatory only offered a grayish water to rinse the hands.
The trip would take a few days, and though it stopped along the way, it never sat still for long. While people got off, fewer and fewer got on. As they entered the wastelands—comprised of agricultural fields that showed only stunted growth—houses became farther apart.
Most chose to live in the cities with all the amenities. Only the farmers preferred the wide-open spaces, and even then, as their crops died, many of them chose to shift to the cities, too, everyone looking to the government to feed them.
It saddened her to see the once fertile fields now lying fallow.
As if echoing her thoughts, Jool said, “How could we let it get this bad?”
Greed. A nonchalance toward the future. A willful blindness to their actions.
Late afternoon, as she drowsed, Jool shifted and then shook her awake. “Onaria. Wake up.”
“What? Are we there?” she mumbled, rousing enough to rub her eyes.
“Trouble.”
The word brought a chill that woke her thoroughly. “Where?”
He pointed. Outside the window, the dead fields still streamed past, but racing through them on motorbikes spewing fumes were bandits. She’d heard rumors of them, even as the news neglected to report on their antics. They wore goggles and scarves concealing their faces, intent on racing the train.
They zoomed out of sight, and she heaved a sigh of relief that turned into a squeak as the train jolted. There was a screaming of metal as it braked. Jool held her tight as they came to a bumpy stop.
Choo. A release of steam was followed by an ominous lack of movement.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“Robbery, I imagine. They’ve been having problems outside the city zones.”
“We’ll be fine,” she said aloud, mostly to reassure herself. “I have nothing of value.”
Except the bandits weren’t after objects, but food. They came banging on compartment doors, thrusting themselves inside, desperate men and women armed with weapons, hands outstretched demanding payment.
Onaria didn’t hesitate, grabbing her bag with trembling hands, while Jool handed over the last of his stale bread.
“That’s it?” the stranger asked, his cheeks gaunt and grizzled, disparaging their meager offering.
“There’s nothing left in the cities,” she said almost in apology.
“Or you’re hiding it from me.” The fellow grabbed her and yanked her close, drawing a protest from Jool.
“Leave her alone.”
“Or what?” The tone matched the sneer.
Jool bristled. “She’s a lady.”
“You don’t say? Never had me a lady.” There was a mocking in the way the bandit said it. “Maybe you should come with me. A dessert to go with the dinner.” He moved toward the door, still gripping Onaria by an arm.
Sliding quickly, Jool blocked the way. “Unhand her.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” snarled the bandit, shoving at Jool.
To her shock, Jool shoved back. “I said unhand her. Starvation is not an excuse for depravity.”
“Maybe you should come, too. You’ve got enough meat on your bones, and once you’re in the stew pot, none will know the difference.”
The very suggestion of cannibalism raised her gorge.
Jool appeared shocked as well. But not enough to concede. “You’re not leaving this train with either of us.”