When she woke, she was alone, lying on the seats with a blanket draped over her.
Mari wriggled upright, dismayed to find the Twins gone. Moonlight played over her face as she looked at her watch. It was still an hour until they were due in Scar City.
So why was the train stationary?
“O-kay,” she muttered, tossing the blanket aside. She peered out the window, terror icing her veins as she saw the extent of their isolation. There wasn’t anything manmade for miles around. No buildings, no people…more importantly, no wall.
Mari unholstered the Glock. Maybe those aliens were good bullet-dodgers, but she felt safer with the weapon. Flicking off the safety, she walked slowly down the aisle. All the lights were out; only the moon illuminated the train. And it was quiet. Dead quiet.
Multiple scenarios, each worse than the next, flipped through her mind. Ironically, the worst part was the absence of the Twins.
At least they gave me a blanket. But if they’ve left the train, I’m probably toast…
She gripped the Glock a little harder. It was more than a little creepy being aboard a dim, deserted train. Any second, someone—or something—might jump out at her from the darkness. She slowed as she neared the end of the carriage, realizing its door was open.
Any second, an army of Barks could rush in, their pale, fishbelly-white bodies undulating as they opened their sharklike mouths and went for her…
Movement in the door made her trigger finger quiver dangerously. She quickly lowered the gun as she recognized the silhouette as a man.
“Gareth,” she whispered. She didn’t know how she recognized him, but her instinct told her it was the quieter of the Twins.
He turned slightly, putting a finger to his lips without stopping his scan of the land around them. Then he reached for her gun, engaged the safety and tucked it back into the holster. Pulling her close, he bent to speak directly into her ear.
“The train broke down. Finn’s guarding the other end of the carriage. Stay behind me, and keep quiet. We don’t want to attract unwanted attention.”
Unwanted attention. Now there was a way to put it. Mari stepped back inside the carriage, peering through the window at the seemingly barren land. She’d been wrong earlier about there being no buildings around—there was a ramshackle cabin in the near distance. Was it infested with Barks?
Gareth seemed to focus most of his attention in that direction. Now that his leather jacket was hitched up a bit, she could see two vicious-looking daggers hanging unsheathed at his waist. Electronic ones, judging by the buttons on the hilt. Otherwise, he didn’t seem to be armed.
Mari frowned. Twins were faster, stronger, more physically capable than a typical human. They’d been created as super-soldiers. Yet surely even they couldn’t successfully fight Barks with two daggers.
In those early days when much of humanity perished, it was reported that Twins had been instrumental in helping to create walled Cities, fighting off Barks by night and shoring up infrastructure by day. Even though more than ninety percent of the population now lived behind walls, Twins still kept busy, guarding transport and Cities.
And, apparently, running strange missions for her government that involved her late father.
Mari took a deep breath and reminded herself that Gareth was probably used to this. She shifted, wondering if she should go check on Finn, but Gareth signaled her to stay put. So she occupied herself by scanning the land herself, wondering what possessed certain people to live outside the safety of walls.
Her own City had only rarely been attacked. The aliens had gotten smarter as years went by, so sustained attacks on walls were rare. The aliens were carnivores and could go long periods without eating. Not that they lacked prey—there was still plenty of wildlife in many areas. Humans, however, seemed to be their favorite dish. So the Barks lurked, preying upon people who didn’t make it back inside the gates before nightfall.
Since crops had to be grown somewhere, and space was at a premium inside walls, humans still had to venture outside. Mari had taken a job as a shepherd several years ago, watching over the animals as they grazed during the day, then driving them back inside the City before sunset. Well before sunset, in fact, to the point where she was eventually fired because her boss was annoyed that the sheep didn’t get that extra half hour of grazing in.
Her boss, however, had never driven the sheep out herself, never experienced the gut-churning terror when one animal wandered a little too far and had to be brought away from an abandoned barn where Barks might have been lurking, waiting to rend flesh away from bone.
That was how Carter had died.
That was also why they assigned two people to tend the flock. These days, stock was too valuable to risk.
Mari sighed. She wouldn’t miss her old City. After the death of her parents, nothing much tied her there. Home had been an old shipping container with two small windows covered by curtains her mother had sewn herself. Her father had slept at one end; Mari occupied the other, with a living room of sorts in the middle. Underneath them had been prim, irascible Josie, living with her son in her own container.
As the population recovered, demand for housing was going up. Rent had increased, and the owner of the container had eventually asked for more money than she could give, spurred on by Tim, who wanted to drive her into his arms. Hopefully, the cost of living in Scar City would be cheaper, for she didn’t have more than a few dollars left.
That meant she would have to locate her father’s stash sooner rather than later, and hope whatever he’d left behind fetched her a decent price.
Gareth’s shoulders tensed, and all Mari’s thoughts fled. Had he seen something out there? She checked her watch again, realizing she’d been standing there for nearly an hour. And it was still a good six hours until sunrise.
The faintest of barks reached her ears, a low, gruff sound. Oh God. One of the aliens must have caught sight of the train and come to investigate. Worse, it was calling its buddies to come as well.
The first one came into sight a few seconds later, its long, powerful hind legs gleaming white in the moonlight. Mari’s breath caught in terror. The urge to run was powerful. She forced herself to hold still, knowing that movement would attract the carnivore’s attention.
Another emerged over the horizon, lolloping behind the first as they came over to check out the train. Mari knew that the locomotives had the ability to completely encase themselves, so the driver would be safe behind several tons of metal. Passengers, on the other hand…
Oh hell. Were there other passengers? She shook her head, trying to remember. No, this was the only passenger carriage. The rest of the train consisted of freight cars, and she devoutly hoped there wasn’t any livestock aboard.
Then again, maybe the stock would distract the Barks from eating them.
Mari swallowed hard as three of the creatures came toward them, the third having seemingly materialized out of nowhere. Gareth made the tiniest of gestures, finger pointing to the floor of the carriage. With reluctance, she obeyed, making sure she moved slowly and carefully.
Somehow, not being able to see the aliens made things ten thousand times worse, even though the way they moved made her vaguely queasy. How could they walk so sinuously? Triple-jointed freakish carnivore aliens. Nobody had seen that coming. Not even the NASA technicians who’d first reported the approach of the motherships decades ago.
Half an hour passed, during which she stared at her watch, prayed and kept her hand on the Glock. Then, suddenly, Gareth moved as a flurry of white nearly overwhelmed him.
Instead of reaching for his daggers, he raised his bare hands—and Mari blinked as spears of light arrowed out. One pierced a Bark, and it shrieked, falling to the ground as blackness spread along its side. A scorched smell wafted toward her, overlaid with an unnatural sweet scent that she assumed was from the Bark itself.
Gareth wasted no time dispatching the thing, kicking its corpse to the ground. Then he resumed his watchful stance.
Minutes ticked by, turning into hours. Mari was just beginning to relax when there was another attack. This time, she heard woofs and yowls from the rear of the carriage and knew Finn must be fighting as well. With a white-knuckled grip on her gun, she watched Gareth kill two more of the things.
He was right. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that she could shoot one of the aliens. They whipped around too fast, and each part of their segmented bodies seemed to be vaguely autonomous. She watched Gareth sever one with that spear of light. Half of the creature dropped, writhing in the dust in its death throes.
The other half kept coming, baring fiercely sharp teeth and balancing on two, instead of six, legs. It feinted in a series of startlingly swift movements, but Gareth was just as quick. Although its teeth came within a hair’s breadth of slicing his skin, the Twin pulled his dagger, driving it through its throat and leaping back as a gout of black blood spurted forth.
He retrieved the dagger and spun, lunging toward Mari as he slammed the carriage door behind him. She moved out of his way, but he motioned her to follow him.
“With me,” he said. “Finn’s in trouble.”
Although she tried, she couldn’t keep up with him. In fact, he was at the other end before she reached the halfway point. A flash of light illuminated the area as he jumped into the fray. She paused in horror as she registered the sheer number of aliens the Twins were facing. At least six were trying to get aboard the train, snapping and snarling as they jostled for fighting room.
Body parts went flying as Gareth and Finn fought back to back. Finn sliced one creature in half, then turned to Mari, mouthing the word hide.
She took his point, for the other end of the carriage was undefended. If a Bark managed to claw open the door, it would be upon her in seconds. But she couldn’t hide, couldn’t take her eyes off the huge Bark, the leader, who crouched a few yards away watching the fight.
Now and then it would emit a low woof, as if directing the other aliens. Its four eyes were deepest black, fixed upon the Twins with the malevolent hatred of a much-thwarted hunter. When it opened its mouth again, it emitted a howl that could be heard for miles around, a sound that rattled the train’s windows and made Mari want to throw up her peanut butter sandwich.
The Twins didn’t pause. Couldn’t pause, she realized. With the rest of the aliens to kill, their hands were effectively tied.
But hers weren’t.
She flicked the safety off the Glock and took aim. The leader remained still but for its eyes, an easy target. The two eyes on stalks swiveled backward, as if awaiting reinforcements…
Mari shot. The bullet took the Bark in the mouth, blowing a hole through its webbed cheek.
It screamed, louder than the howl, and whipped upward in movement. Mari fired again, scoring a lucky hit along one of its legs. It squalled again, rearing up and sprinting away in a blur of white. The smaller Barks followed, fleeing the Twins with yaps and snarls into the slowly lightening darkness.
“Th-thought you said they weren’t susceptible to bullets,” Mari stuttered as the Twins came back inside. She engaged the safety, and Finn helped her guide the gun back into the holster.
“Bullets have their uses.” Gareth wiped his brow and flashed her a smile. “Nice shooting, Mari. They’re gone.”
Whatever Finn was about to say was interrupted by a bleeping in the corner. The Twin reached over and picked up an old-fashioned phone, holding the receiver to his ear. “Yeah?”
The female voice on the other end was so strident, Mari could hear every word. “Everyone all right back there?”
“We drove them off, but we won’t survive another night out here,” Finn said.
“Won’t have to,” the woman said. “I was able to replace the faulty part myself. Hell of a place for a gasket to blow, huh? Anyhow, we can roll out in the next few minutes. Train can’t go over thirty miles per hour, but we’ll get to Scar City eventually.”
“Good to know.” Finn looked relieved. Even so, he never took his eyes off the horizon. Gareth adopted a similar watchful position.
“What’s the body count back there?”
“Zero. There’s only three passengers aboard.”
“And two are Twins. Well, thank God for that. Okay, we’re rolling out now.”
There was a click as the driver hung up. Finn replaced the receiver on the hook and reached over to close the carriage door. Without a word, Gareth left, taking up a position at the other door. It was as if they were communicating telepathically.
Duh, of course they were. They’d told her as much. With a shiver, she realized they’d most likely been communicating mind-to-mind during their…well, earlier.
“You’re blushing,” Finn said. He’d remained next to her, sitting in the aisle seat this time.
“Am I?” She tried to rally but was thrown off-balance—literally—when the train began to move.
Smoothly, Finn leaned forward and tucked her into a tight embrace. She pressed her cheek against his chest, sudden gratitude that they were alive making her a little weak at the knees. The sun was a golden glow on the horizon, growing ever brighter as the train sped up slightly. After its earlier high speed, thirty miles per hour seemed slow. It was a damn sight better than remaining still, though. She supposed she ought to thank her lucky stars that the driver had been able to fix the train and get it rolling again. How long had they sat there in the middle of nowhere? Mari was glad she’d been able to sleep through some of it.
Finn buried his nose in her hair, sniffing. “You smell so good.”
What did one say to that? “Compared to sweat and alien blood, anything smells good.”
He laughed, and Mari felt another pair of arms slip around her. Gareth. His erection was thick against her back, sending a jolt of excitement shooting to her core. Lingering adrenaline from the attack made her shaky—and very much in need of something to remind her she was still alive. So she let herself lean back, drawing on his strength to steady herself.
“Alien blood is poisonous, in case you’re wondering,” Gareth said. “I can assure you that none of it got on us.”
“That’s good.” The art of small talk had temporarily deserted her. Not that it mattered with these men, since they seemed to be fascinated by anything she said. Maybe it was their—very effective—way of flirting, or perhaps it was down to their lack of exposure to normal human conversation.
Gareth continued to hold her against him, brushing a caress down her thigh that nearly made her jump. Her residual terror from their near-miss with the aliens was seeping away, rapidly being replaced with a kind of wild desire she’d never experienced before.
Now that was far preferable to giving way to a panic attack.
Finn tilted up her chin with one insistent hand, leaning forward to kiss her. She melted a little, closing her eyes as he gave her expert attention, his tongue demanding entrance. Behind her, Gareth’s hands pulled up her skirt, dipping into her panties as she let out a soft moan. She was wet already—far wetter than she’d ever been.
Then again, masturbation had nothing on these two men. The orgasm Gareth had given her earlier—that both of them had given her, she corrected herself—blew all previous experiences out of the water. This easily eclipsed magazine articles and their ice cubes too.
And, she reminded herself, what did it matter if she slept with these men? Back in Flagstaff, she’d had to keep her magazines hidden, all desire primly tucked away so that she didn’t incur Tim’s wrath. But Tim wasn’t on this train, and Mari was on her way to a whole new life. There would be no fallout, no repercussions. She could let herself be free for once.
When Gareth withdrew, she made a little gasp of disappointment, but Finn pulled back to reassure her. “It’s all right, baby. He’s just getting comfortable.”
“What?” She turned, finding Gareth pulling out the seats to form a bed. “Oh, I didn’t know they could do that.”
“Seatbeds aren’t all that practical at a hundred miles an hour, since you’ll jounce right out of them. At thirty, they’re perfectly safe. And they conveniently fit all three of us.”
Yes, but would she fit them? Doubt assailed her, but Finn bent to kiss her so thoroughly that her head was spinning by the time they came up for air. Despite his take-charge attitude, he held her lightly enough that she was confident she could pull away if necessary. Instead, she walked toward the bed.
Gareth was already lying there, watching her with half-lidded green eyes. His hand was at his cock, but he hadn’t unzipped his fly. Wondering at her own forwardness, Mari reached over and did it for him. As her fingers caressed his bulge, Gareth breathed in one sharp breath and shucked off his jeans and leather jacket.
He twitched the curtains closed before turning back to her, clad only in a black, short-sleeved shirt. His erection was enormous, a bead of moisture clinging to its head. She’d borrowed a copy of Playgirl once, but that didn’t hold a candle to the real thing. Mari had been half-embarrassed, half-intrigued, flipping through all those pages of naked men.
Here, there was no room for embarrassment. The thought was freeing, invigorating. She wouldn’t have to marry either—or both—of them, wouldn’t have to face any disapproving comments about premarital sex.
Behind her, Finn teased off her blouse, unhooking her bra and tossing the clothes over into the next set of seats. As he worked on her skirt and tights, Gareth came forward to kiss her.
His erection settled against her bare stomach, nearly in the valley between her breasts. She closed her eyes again, losing herself in the moment before the memory of the alien attack could rise up and choke her. Behind Mari, Finn peeled off her tights and settled his own erect cock against the small of her back, toying with her breasts as he kissed the nape of her neck.
“We’re protected, so you know,” Finn told her. “Twins are immune to STDs. Gareth and I took a male contraceptive shot last year, so that’s covered as well.”
Gareth’s lips still lingered on hers, preventing her from responding beyond a bare nod. Disappointment cut through her arousal—if they were taking contraceptives, that meant she was merely one woman of many for them, nobody special.
But no, they’d said she was the first one for both of them. That had to mean something.
And losing her virginity—to Twins, no less—was something she was totally fine with. Of course they wouldn’t commit to her—nor she to them. Mari didn’t ask for that. Besides, she’d always known that she had to make her own way in life. So why not have a little fun while she could?
And after that scare, Mari sure needed to feel an emotion other than terror.
Finn’s hands went back to her breasts, the rough pads of his thumbs brushing sensitive skin. It was hard to believe that these skilled fighters could be so gentle, but they were consummate gentlemen, taking things slow and easy. Almost too slow and easy, for when the train lurched, panic nibbled at the edges of her libido.
When they lowered her to the bed, she was more than ready to go along with it. Stomach-down, she complied as Gareth positioned her rear-end-up with her knees under her body. Doggy-style, according to some magazine she barely remembered. Mari quivered as he ran a finger along her sex, drawing a long, protracted circle around her clit.
Finn situated himself at the top of her body, kneeling so that his erect cock was inches from her mouth. She knew what he wanted—and she was more than willing, daring to lick him first, lack of ice cube be damned. His groan spurred her on even as Gareth eased the tip of his cock against her entrance, holding her hips firm.
Mari opened her mouth further as Finn stroked her hair, tonguing the head of his erection before she closed her lips around his smooth skin and slid downward. He let out a load groan.
“Ah, baby, you feel so good. What a sweet, tight mouth you have.”
He liked that? Mari felt an irrational rush of pride accompanied by an electric surge of arousal, and Gareth used the opportunity to penetrate her. She gasped around Finn’s cock, writhing a little against the not entirely unexpected sting.
“Easy,” Gareth said. “Just breathe.”
She did, her tongue lapping against the base of Finn’s cock as she grew used to Gareth’s girth. Hands braced against the bed, she pulled back, letting Finn’s hands guide her head where he wanted it. He fucked her mouth as Gareth began to move, and Mari fought to concentrate. God, that felt so good. There was no room in her mind now for anything but pure pleasure.
“I’m not going to last,” Finn ground out.
“At this rate, neither am I,” Gareth muttered. He slowed, running a caress across Mari’s buttocks. She arched against his hand, needing his touch to ground herself.
Finn tensed, his cock going absolutely rigid in her mouth. “Now,” he said, and held her still as he jetted in her mouth. Her throat muscles worked as she struggled to swallow, but he quickly brought a tissue to her mouth, wiping off the excess semen as he crooned gentle endearments.
As soon as Finn was done, Gareth withdrew, guiding her onto her back with her head in Finn’s lap. Then Gareth slid back inside her, and she gasped at the new angle of penetration. Finn heightened her pleasure by leaning down to suckle her breasts, his tongue doing wicked things to her nipples. She breathed in his masculine scent, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck as she hovered on the edge of an orgasm.
“Please,” she whimpered.
Gareth thrust hard, pushing her over. She cried out against Finn’s chest, trembling as he continued to lick and suck. Nestled against Finn, she felt safe, cocooned and utterly pleasured.
Gareth came moments later, his groan of satisfaction prolonging her own pleasure. He gripped her thighs hard as he spent his hot seed inside her. Then he withdrew, and she felt him press a cool, damp tissue there, cleaning her gently.
Finn pressed one last kiss atop her breast and lay back, his green eyes smoky. “Come here, baby. I need to snuggle you.”
With some effort, she managed to wriggle into his arms. Gareth followed, sandwiching her in between both of them. Content, exhausted and wholly calm, she rested her head on a convenient shoulder and closed her eyes. Lulled by dual heartbeats and the movement of the train, worn out by stress and emotion, she fell asleep.
* * * * *
Gareth opened his eyes, expecting to immediately recall his most recent nightmare. But he’d had none, and that was highly unusual. He blinked down at Mari, who still snoozed contentedly.
Strange. For the first time in decades, he had slept soundly and peacefully.
That was a welcome change from the nightmares he often had, where his scientist “family” perished over and over again in gruesome alien attacks. No matter that he’d only come across the aftermath, seeing the woman who’d been to all intents and purposes his mother with her throat torn out. He still imagined the attacks as if he’d been there.
Finn told him he often tried to fight in his sleep, shredding sheets and pillows as he strove to drive the Barks away. It didn’t matter that in real life, he had driven them away, working with the rest of the Twins to drive them right out of Chicago. In the end, their area received far fewer casualties than most places.
That was small comfort in the nights to follow. At least Twins didn’t require as much sleep as a human. They could get by on two to three hours a night—less, sometimes. Right now, Gareth felt totally recharged. He figured that had much to do with the woman lying next to his brother.
Mari. He smiled as he studied her sleeping face. What a woman, and what a piece of luck for him and Finn. Gareth hadn’t been as quick as his brother to mark her as theirs, but Finn had seemed to realize from the very beginning that Mari was special.
He shook his head, sitting up to pull his clothes on. Love—or pheromones, whatever—at first sight? He’d never believed in it, had scoffed at the pair of Twins who vowed their belief in that sort of occurrence.
We looked once, the two men had said, and we knew she was ours.
As he pulled on his boots, Finn woke. Very carefully, he dislodged Mari’s head from his shoulder and re-tucked the blanket over her. While his brother dressed, Gareth drew the curtains, blinking in the midmorning sun. By now they were entering the former suburbs of Reno, rolling slowly through abandoned, rotting houses, long ago pillaged of any valuables.
Many of them had their roofs knocked off too, either for building materials or to prevent the Barks from setting up their daytime camp inside. Gareth touched his wrist at that thought, slipping his UV-saber off to recharge in the bright sunlight. Finn did the same, then visited the bathroom to wash up.
By the time they were both washed and presentable, it was time to wake Mari. Gareth did so with relish, stroking her silky hair from her peaceful face. “Hey, wake up. Time for breakfast.”
Her dark lashes fluttered, and she groaned. “Five more minutes.”
“In five minutes, we’ll be nearing civilization again,” Finn said. “And you’re buck naked. Not that I’m complaining, but if we pass any farmers, they’ll get a very nice eyeful.”
At that, Mari sprang up, spreading her appalled glare equally between them. Gareth grinned as she dove for her suitcase, breasts bouncing in a way that made him instantly hard again. He watched her with a possessiveness he’d never before felt, wanting nothing more than to coax her back onto the bed and have his way with her.
That particular pleasure would have to wait. He set out breakfast, making sure Mari had a portion as well. Despite their many flaws, the scientists who packed their food had done a good job with tucking extra provisions into their bags.
Finn pulled Mari into his lap as they ate, cupping her ass with one proprietary hand. Gareth enjoyed the sight while also making sure he kept an eye on the terrain outside. Unlike in some Cities, there were no rogue settlements outside the walls here, no shanty towns against the wall itself. That suggested that the alien attacks were frequent and vicious.
“Eat your granola bar,” Finn urged Mari.
“Are you sure I’m not making you go without?” she asked, her brown eyes serious.
“Nope. Besides, feeding you is the least we can do after this morning.” Finn bent to kiss the top of her head, so he missed the fleeting, uncertain expression that crossed Mari’s face.
Gareth considered her. “Are you okay, honey? Not hurt?”
“No—I’m fine.” She smiled, setting his heart at ease. Still, he resolved to keep a close eye on her, make sure she was truly okay with having a relationship with them.
The train slowed as it approached Scar City. They rolled through the gates, over which someone had crossed out RENO under the Welcome to sign and written SCARCITY.
As Mari ate the last bite of her granola bar, the train came to a halt. Gareth folded the makeshift bed back into seats again and set their suitcases near the door. They were here later than scheduled, and he felt strongly that they ought to be making up for lost time.
“Do you really think this City is living on such borrowed time?” Finn asked.
“Yeah, I do. Last time I was here, there were at least a handful of humans living outside the walls. Now I see no sign of them.”
“I’d like to see if we can find some, speak to them. Maybe one of them knows where Jorge Aquino went—and why.”
“If he’s alive.” Gareth ran a hand through his closely-cropped hair.
“There’s bound to be clues somewhere.”
“Hope so. This City is going to fall real soon. Ah hell, there’s the driver. We’re going to have to give her a rundown of what happened while she was pissing around fixing things. She could at least have let us know what was up.”
Finn sent him a mental snort, and both men walked down the carriage to where the driver was waiting. Fortunately, the woman apologized right off the bat for keeping them in the dark about the mechanical problem, explaining that she’d gotten straight to work fixing it. By the time she’d had a chance to take a break, she was afraid that calling back to the carriages would alert Barks to their presence.
“I hadn’t reckoned on having Twins aboard,” she said. “When I checked the passenger list and saw the government stamp, I was damn happy, I’ll tell you that.”
Her evident admiration for them was a nice change from the open suspicion they often encountered. Gareth forgave her, even though he politely shook off the hand she placed on his arm. He hadn’t wanted to talk to her this long in the first place. Debriefing was his least favorite part of any mission. What was done was done—water under the bridge. And he wanted to get back to Mari.
“I guess you’re here for a few days, then,” he said, trying to disengage. The woman was flirting too overtly for him, and she wasn’t his type. Nor Finn’s.
“Three, at least. There’s another train coming in from Portland on Saturday, so I won’t have to be here long.” She grimaced. “Not exactly the best City to spend a layover, but at least we aren’t Bark dinner.”
“Things can almost always be worse,” Gareth said, backing away another step.
“They’re worse now,” Finn snapped at him. “Mari’s gone.”
Gareth spun. It was true. Her luggage was missing too. He dove for his own stuff, strapping his UV-saber to his wrist, and hightailed it out of the carriage into the station. Pausing, he took stock of the situation, looking around for any traces of Mari. Where could she have disappeared to in so short a time?
The damn place was utterly seething, with people demanding refunds for their tickets, workers unloading cargo, mechanics hustling toward the busted locomotive with bags of tools. Everything had a kind of down-and-out quality to it, even more so than most Cities. Peeling paint adorned the walls, and a layer of dust and grime covered everything. Most people hurried about their tasks with a single-minded grimness, as if immersing themselves in work would save them from having to think about anything in the long term.
In unspoken accord, the Twins hurried toward the main station exit, looking left and right on what passed as the City’s Main Street. Yet there was no sign of Mari. Panic welled up, slamming into his gut like a freight train. Why had she left them? Where had she gone?
Gareth cursed. “Let’s split up. I’ll take left.”
“Fine. Wait. She told us where she was going—the Wanderer.”
“All right. We’ll go there now.” Such was his panic that he’d forgotten that small detail. He was grateful Finn had remembered. They’d find her there, surely—and hopefully before one of its debauched patrons bothered her. Shouldering his bag, Gareth swung into step with his brother, heading toward the seedier part of Scar City.