Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 721(@200wpm)___ 577(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
“There’s something moving out there,” Clara whispers.
She’s right. My display is lit up with information. “Bots,” I say. “There’s something on the track and they’re moving it out of the way.”
“Where did they come from?”
That’s a very good question that only has one answer. “Epsilon Factory must be right up ahead.”
“Well…” Clara’s mind is going crazy. “Why was the track blocked? How would something get on the track?”
“Not sure.”
The bots begin retreating, then they disappear into the darkness, out of reach of my sensors. The train begins crawling forward, then picks up a little speed.
Clara lets out a breath. “Well, that was exciting.”
Not the word I’d use. Because it was all very familiar from my time in Sweep.
An ambush.
I wait for the consequences… but nothing happens until we pull into Epsilon Factory Station and bots appear to remove crates.
Clara and I stay right where we are. Letting the workers do their thing. At one point, a bot comes to remove the crate that’s been hiding us from view, and it pauses. Like it’s scanning us.
Even I hold my breath for this. I don’t reach for the Versi, just in case it’s got a pre-programmed defense protocol, but I’m ready to, if it comes to the wrong conclusion about who and what we are.
It doesn’t. It picks the crate up and leaves. Either we are somethin’ unknown and it doesn’t have a protocol to deal with us, or it was told not to engage.
“What was that?” Clara whispers. “It looked right at us. I thought they couldn’t see us?”
“Well… I guess they can. We’ll have to be more careful in the future. We should probably not go into any more cities. I’m sure each god programs them different. Just because Delta’s workers didn’t pay us any attention, doesn’t mean the others won’t.”
“Yeah,” she sighs, absently watchin’ the worker bots reload the train.
They see us. They absolutely see us. Because they deliberately avoid crushin’ us with crates. Which is nice, I suppose. But doesn’t make me feel any better. Because it implies that they’ve got directive to deal with strangers, whereas the bots in Delta Factory didn’t.
They’re efficient, though. And it’s only one car. So it only takes about thirty minutes to load it back up before the doors close and we pull forward once again.
This time, there is no crawlin’ through switchbacks. The train immediately picks up speed and just a few minutes into the trip, my display estimates that we’re travelling about two-hundred-thirty miles per hour.
Clara looks nervous. “Is it supposed to be so fast? Was it this fast on the way here?”
“Yeah. This is fine.”
This answer seems to settle her because she slumps back against the bulkhead of the train. I shuffle through my pack for some food, back on task before everythin’ got sidetracked with the debris on the line and the attention of bots.
“Here,” I say, handing Clara a pouch of crackers and jerky and keeping one for myself. “Eat somethin’. It’s been a crazy day so far. I don’t need ya passin’ out from lack of food.”
Which probably isn’t a real concern since she seems to run on spark and I’ve given her quite a lot of that in the past few hours.
But she accepts my offer with a smile and we settle back into the trip snacking in silence. When she finishes, she lies down with her head on her ruck. “I’m not going to sleep,” she insists. “Just resting my eyes.”
I chuckle, smiling. Because it’s a lie. But she needs the rest, so I don’t comment. Just let her pretend until she’s once again passed out. I’m studyin’ her complexion because I can’t tell if she’s goin’ pale again or it’s just the lighting in this tunnel, when three things happen at once:
First, the world lurches forward, my stomach droppin’ as the train slams into an emergency stop, sending me half out of my seat and Clara’s ruck sliding out from under her head.
Second, a deep, thrummin’ bass rumbles through the cabin. A low-frequency hum that rattles through my bones like the whole train is fighting against some invisible force trying to tear it apart.
Third, the air shifts. A pressure wave slammin’ through the tunnel like a silent explosion. My ears pop and the lights flicker erratically.
And then—silence.
This is when my brain catches up, finally understandin’ what is happening.
There’s someone on the track ahead.
And his eyes are glowing a familiar bright blue.
14 - CLARA
When I open my eyes after the sudden lurch, I am disturbed to find that my body has shifted so far forward, I’m pressed up against the glass at the front of the train.
And that’s when I see him.
A man.
A very tall man with lots of muscles and tattoos.
Not to mention, glowing blue eyes.
But this man isn’t Tyse.
He’s someone else.
Someone outside on the tracks.