Rook Winters - Weight of Ashes

“Ma’am,” Novak said, “this is a restricted area. You’re not allowed to be here. We’ll help you collect your things and then we need to escort you out.”

Novak and the guard turned their backs to the open train compartment. Britt risked a quick look over her shoulder. From the loading bay above, Wilm jumped into the train’s microgravity, hauling another five-foot-long crate. Chemical propellant thrusters in his suit helped speed his descent. He was in the train and gone from sight in less than four seconds. She grimaced at the thought of his rough landing. Impact-absorbing lining in a jumpsuit only did so much.

She began counting the seconds. One… two… three… four…

Wilm needed seventy-five seconds to override the magnetic locks, swap out the crate, reactivate the locks, and get back upstairs with the original crate.

“Ma’am, how did you get into this area?” the security guard asked.

“Don’t you ma’am me. You can’t cop a feel one minute then treat someone like an unwanted rodent the next and then make it up with a polite word or two. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Ma’am, miss, lady. Look, I’m sorry, whatever you think I did…”

The guard was flustered, which made Britt smile. The woman was showing the guard and Novak the door through which she’d entered.

Sixty… sixty-one… sixty-two…

Britt looked back again. Wilm and a crate were on their way back up to the loading bay.

Seventy… Seventy-one…

They were clear.

The woman in rags was gone and Novak was chastising the security guard.

“Great, the train is late now. Let’s get this show on the road.” Novak tapped on his wrist computer. The train compartment sealed itself shut, and the train glided away with a hum that belied its incredible mass and breakneck speed.

“What an unusual young woman,” Britt said.

“I apologize for the commotion,” Novak said as he glowered at the security guard.

With Novak’s digital inspection seal on the train compartment, there was no risk of their crates being opened again before launch. Britt breathed a sigh of relief as she climbed the stairs.

Once back inside the safety of their cargo facility, she beamed at her small crew. “Excellent work, everyone. Bear, what was our official time?”

“Seventy-four seconds from jump to cargo doors closed. One second better than target.”

The rag lady came in via the public entrance from the street.

“And Ainsley, what a performance.” Britt pressed her hands over her heart. “You missed your calling in the theater, my dear.”

“I thought that guard was going to piss himself when I accused him of touching me.”

“An inspired improvisation. Bravo.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just buy off the guard?” Wilm asked. He was new to the crew. This was his first job.

“You’d think so,” Bear said, “but the guards rotate out too frequently. Besides, the sneaky switcheroo is the fun part.”

Wilm rubbed his shoulder. “Easy for you to say. You aren’t the one slamming into the train.”

Bear’s massive chest and shoulders bounced as he laughed. “I did my time and I’ve got the bad knees to prove it. I can predict a storm better than the weather service.”

“Plus it’s far too expensive to buy Bear-sized jumpsuits.” Britt patted his bulging chest and noticed a subtle shift in Wilm’s body language. Did he have feelings for the big man? Britt made a mental note to keep an eye out for that. Romantic relationships were a no-go in her crew, not that she worried about Bear. His battered heart was already spoken for.

“Everyone into their street clothes,” Bear said. “Leave one at a time. Britt and I will lock up.”

Once Wilm and Ainsley had left, Bear looked at her with pursed lips. She knew what was coming.

“So, do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?”

“About whatever had you so upset earlier. We almost missed the train after two months of planning. It had to be something serious to distract you like that.”

“You already know that I won’t tell you.”

He shrugged. “Fair enough. Thought I’d ask in case you needed to talk.”

“Let’s go.” She put on her three-quarter brim hat. The style was in fashion and convenient for obscuring one’s face from overhead cameras and nosy neighbors, even if it did look ridiculous. “I’m fine.”

As fine as I can be after hearing that an old friend was killed .

“Food is ready.”

It was the first thing Court had said to her since she declared that she was going in search of Nora Barrett. The meal was a feast. Grilled coywolf, roasted potatoes, corn, carrots, spinach, beets, and turnips. All these things were new to her in the last week. All these foods. It had taken some convincing for her to accept the villagers’ use of the word food to describe the meats and vegetables but she had acquiesced.

Elle ate greedily, realizing how hungry she had grown in the last twenty-four hours.

“That was good. Thank you.”

“I figured we might as well eat it. What the animals don’t get is going to rot anyway.”

“Can’t you dry it, like the apples?”

“Not if I’m not here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said, about something bigger happening and people dying because of it. Marsh spent decades here. If he was willing to leave, it’s important. If these new laws are real and somehow there’s a way to do something, then you should go, and I should make sure you don’t starve to death on the way.”

“After all this, there’s not much risk of starving. I could walk for days without eating again.”

He smiled at that. It was a small smile, like his face wasn’t ready to concede to anything positive yet but it was something. It gave her hope that he wouldn’t drown in the darkness.

My loss suddenly seems small. No, not small. Different but not small. We’ve both lost everything we know.

“Do you still want… I mean, is it alright for me to come with you?”

“Yes, definitely. I think it’s best.”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll do what you said and salvage what we can to sell. Hopefully, we can find enough supplies for the trip. There’s an old storage cellar under the council’s cabin. If it survived the fire, I think there are things from the outside world down there. It could be helpful.”

“Then we should get started before the light’s gone. We’ll leave in the morning.”

“Not yet. I have dessert.”

“Dessert?”

He came back with two green balls.

“Watermelon,” he said.

He sliced the fruit. The flavor exploded in Elle’s mouth. It was unlike anything she’d ever eaten.

“This is amazing.”

“I know, right? Watermelon’s my favorite. We don’t grow much of it because it has a long season and it’s a bit finicky about temperatures.”

“I would grow only watermelon.”

They both laughed at that. The watermelon left sticky residue on their hands and faces so Court fetched them a wash basin. Elle let her hands linger in the water. Even something as rustic as the simple bowl was a luxury they wouldn’t have on the journey ahead.

Court asked, “So we head for Toronto then? Since that’s the last place Marsh knew that Nora Barrett was?”

“It’s the best plan we have.”

“How far is it?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Roughly?”

“I don’t know. It’s west. Sort of west. West and a bit south, I think. I saw it on a map once. It’s not close.”

“You don’t know how to get there or how far it is?”

“No.”

“How were you planning to get there?”