To Die For

Chapter 6 - Wyle Dolon

"We've got an assignment. Raiding a train from Rhodes," Strong says, looking at the paper he just received. We all were in bed, well I wasn't, but it's the middle of the night. All of the 725th are gathered around sleepily in the common area, holding cups of instant coffee and leaning on each other to stay awake.
"Oh yes!" Seamus is excited. I pat his head.
"Robbing a train isn't—oww," Joss begins but I twist his arm firmly behind his back, carefully twisting his thumb so it's nearly out of the socket. He elbows me, glaring.
"Keep it together you two," Strong snaps, glancing up at us. I smile sweetly.
"We leave in the morning. Get a couple more hours sleep, then gather your weapons," Strong finishes, glancing at some of the younger ones, "Whatever weapons we have."
Joss wisely waits until we're back in the room to address me again, "So is there any chance you DIDN'T write those orders?"
"None whatsoever are you in or out?" I ask.
He sighs.
"You know you're bored with drills, and I'll cut you in. You and me, raid the train car, whatever we can carry," I say. I'd rather not split the take with him but there's little choice when he already guessed that I'm behind the mission in the first place. If I don't offer to cut him in he'll undoubtedly go to the chief.
"Fine," Joss relents after a moment, "Good practice for us anyway."
"Exactly," I say, smoothly, "And no one will know where the forged orders came from. They'll likely blame Strong."
"They won't think Strong is smart enough. And I know you don't like him but he's not the worst," Joss says, "If he gets demoted we could be put with someone worse."
"You're practically his second in command. It could be you," I say, might as well work this angle while I have the time. "You'd do a far better job commanding the platoon than he would he is, you know it. He only got the position because his brother's an officer."
"Stop. Save it," Joss holds up a hand, "I don't want power. Or your games."
"What do you want then?" I ask.
"Fun," he says, breaking into a slow grin, "Let's go rob a train."
We get little sleep, between the others preparing their weapons and the boys tittering in anticipation. I'm calm at best. It's not even beyond the fence besides which fact it's a raid of my own design. The Rhodes train conductors won't know we're coming. Such raids aren't usually sanctioned, which is why Strong honestly shouldn't have believed the orders. But he took the bait, all too eager to prove himself.
Joss is a willing conspirator, only going so far as to insist Seamus and by extension Oscar remain with us. Joss rightly assumes I won't let any harm come to me and he wants our youngest members in the relative safety of my company. I don't particularly want them slowing me down but they could prove a benefit if I need to escape, so I decide not to argue. Strong is actually pleased to deal with the others, and not be distracted by Seamus' endless chatter.
We leave at dawn, to walk to the train tracks. Again it's within the fence, so not all that exciting. The part where our orders get us off base is, and I prepare for them to be questioned. They're not. The sergeant can't be bothered and after all, there's no reason recruits would want to go out on patrol. I fall into the back with my party, which now includes the actual children courtesy of Joss.
"Are those your arrows? Can I see—," Seamus immediately reaches out to touch my quiver.
I catch his hand, twisting his fingers so far back I hear his bones squeak as they prepare to pop from their sockets, "Do NOT touch my weapons. Got it?"
"Fine," Seamus shakes his hand slinking away.
Joss shoots me a glance which I ignore, I'm well aware he thinks that my reaction was harsh at best given the boy can't actually hurt the arrows. It's still bad form to touch someone else' weapon, something the impressionable child clearly wasn't taught. Most of us are touchy as it were about our own weapons, and I'm the only one with something sensitive as a bow.
The train tracks are well outside of Nexos, a good four mile hike, but still within the boundary of the fences. They run outside the fences, naturally that's more dangerous. What started as a trade agreement with Rhodes, allowing precious supplies and transport between the colonies, has ended with the subtle agreement that as an rule we're too busy to attack each other's trains. Nobody has kept count for years about who has seized what, and if we had enough soldiers this would be a valid mission. My father broke both his legs on a train raid, that's not what gave him the limp and disqualified him from service though. The Dolon family motto is to avoid civil service at all costs, the only reason I'm still in the army is that despite misdemeanor after infraction after grievous bodily injury they won't get rid of me. My ability to keep myself alive occasionally translates to my brothers in arms, and apparently that's enough.
Ideally, we'll leap on the train, uncouple the last car from the tracks, and then drag it off the tracks back to the base, all staying within the confines of the fence.
Joss knows fully well that I'm planning to raid the cars for personal gain and is apparently intent on joining me. I don't particularly care, however, I'm going to enter the likely guarded cars, in order to steal. That's probably going to take longer than the train will be inside the fence. But he's already in on the plan, he might as well come down with me.
"We'll take the far side," I say, jerking my head at Joss.
Strong grits his teeth. He clearly hates me calling the shots, but also doesn't actually have a better move or he'd have made it by now.
"Goggles and helmets on," Strong growls, tipping his head in silent approval. Joss and I break away, making our way closer to the tracks. There's a soft ruble in the distance.
"How do you know this one will have loot?" Joss whispers. Loot, as opposed to grain or cattle.
"Familial chaos reasons," I whisper.
He shakes his head but accepts that as valid.
Our grey jumpsuits are a perfect camouflage against the barren landscape, hard with rock and rubble left over from centuries of war. The rest of the platoon breaks out, and Joss does me the courtesy of not bothering to ask for my plan. Hm, perhaps he does know me now. I wasn't going to tell him.
The train is rumbling closer, faster, I loosen my limbs in anticipation of the jump.
"Not the first time?" Joss dares.
"Twenty seventh," I lie, it's well past my thirtieth. Not my father's doing. No, Bellamy's don't keep count. My mother took me out when I wasn't five years old. My father bid her wait another year. She said I'd be out doing it on my own she might as well teach me. She was right. I'd already sneaked out twice trying to judge if my little limbs were strong enough to make such a jump. I wasn't and my mother's arms barely saved me from slipping into the tug of the tracks. A valuable lesson on my own ambition. She knew I was too weak on my own but let me learn at her hands rather than lose my life.
This morning is a far cry from that first jump. I'm sure footed and near calm as I make the precarious leap from land to the moving train. My gloved fingers get hold on the bars of the train car.
Joss leaps just after me, glancing sideways to check that I have sure footing. A courtesy I'd guess he knows I didn't extend to him. You make it or you fall. One day we all fall.
Together, we inch forward, carefully making our way on feel alone along the side of the car till we get to the coupling. For security, which clearly doesn't work so well, it has to be undone on either side.
Oscar, and Alpha made it closest, and are a the other end. Alpha's likely jumped before, Oscar hasn't.
I make eye contact with the boy, raising a hand slowly to show him where to grip. He dips his head in thanks. He's likely been shown how to do it on Naxos cars, not Rhodes.
Together, Joss and I each take hold of the levers, dragging them up. Joss struggles for a moment to get traction, and surprise registers when he sees I drag the bar up as smoothly as he does, it's easily the equivalent of pressing his weight, and nobody knows the strength it takes to draw my bow, I'm a stereo typical light archer.
With a great groan, the railway car comes free. It's likely loaded with scrap, lightest fare at the back. They'll start dragging towards Naxos to have a very confusing conversation that hopefully will end with my discharge from the army.
Joss and I lurch, taking hold of the car to keep our footing, then turn back towards the door. It's locked, but a swift kick from Joss' combat boot gets it open.  The metal door swings inwards, and together we duck into the relative safety of the cramped car.
"Did you notice how Strong didn't ask why we brought empty bags? I love that for him," I purr, going to examine the crates.
"I've jumped not robbed, how long do we have?" He asks.
"Maximum thirty more seconds before a guard comes they'll notice the car is missing when we round the curve out of the fence—-ooooooo, batteries," I say, prying open a crate. A fortune of batteries. My lucky night. I swing my pack off.
"Thirty seconds? So by the time we get done talking I—,"
The door opens.
I draw my bow and fire, just as the guard raises a bludgeon. The arrow buries itself in his neck, and he falls backward, out the door and into the night.
"Next one's yours I only have so many arrows," I say, beginning to fill my bag with the precious batteries.
"Jesus," Joss growls.
"Do you know who that is?" I ask.
"No. I heard my mother say it. In regards to me," he says, taking off his bag as well, and taking out one of his swords.
"Thought I'd ask. It has to be from a story doesn't it? Everything is—oh four o'clock—,"
"You can just say 'save my whiny ass' there is one door," he says, pushing past me to take on the next guard. This one has a bat as well, which he brings down at my burly classmate's head. Joss ducks, quicker than I thought the tall boy could move, diving his blade to open the man's belly. Screaming commences.  See this is why I like arrows.
"Better load up, I'll do one more," I say, very charitably I think, as my bag is full. I swing it onto my back, securing the straps.
"You're all heart Wyle," Joss says, sheathing his blade and going back to filling his bag.
"I know, I'm practically a saint," I say, drawing an arrow and waiting. He's not as fast as I am shoveling the batteries in without judging them first. It's not my stash. Ah I can't do it.
"Green are recharable, gold last longer they're worth more, if they're wet then they aren't any good forget it. That copper wire is to kill for," I say, handing him a spool.
"Right," Joss says, but he's sweating as he hurriedly stuff his bag.
No sooner do I hear footsteps in the door than I fire again, this time there were two of them and I've barely reloaded in time to end the second, who falls directly at my feet.
"Out of time come on," I say, heading for the door. In another few minutes we won't be in safe waking distance back to the fence.
Joss follows me, securing his own bag which isn't full. But he must realize I'm right and we'll be dead if we stay much longer.
I take one step out onto the coupling and am met with a fist to my face. I barely catch hold of the side of the car in time, as another fist rises to second the first. Joss snatches the guards arm, twisting him off and making him lose his footing, plummeting to a terrible death in the tracks. All we hear is a distant stream then the man is gone.
"Roof," I say, then leap onto the ladder. There will be a couple of guards on the roof but nothing we can't handle. Joss takes that lead and follow suit, catching hold of the ladder just below me.
The guard is expecting us from the other side, for some reason, oh they're guarding this car. That means I want it. The man's distraction gives me enough time to draw my bow and fire a single shot. I can't waste arrows but on a moving train they're the safest method of combat.
Guards armed with crossbows take shots at us from the cars ahead. But their aim is going to be poor. They want us off. And they're not willing to let the train do their work which means theres something worth stealing in this car, or the one behind it. Which means I want to steal it.
"Cover me," I shout, "I'm going to try to uncouple this car."
"Why?" Joss growls, ducking to avoid the bow fire. It's enough to unnerve most men but losing our footing is a far worse fate with the tracks waiting to suck us in down below.
I take a few steady steps forward, only to be met with more guards pouring up the ladders. Whatever is in this car is very, very valuable. And my impromptu raid should have encounter half this number. Thankfully, I always carry twice as many arrows as I need but arrows are expensive. I didn't want to use all of them.
"Do you think you could fight some of them?" I ask, taking a few more out with rapid shots.
"No. I will buy you more arrows." Oh he really knows me this could be an issue. "Wy, look—,"
I spare a glance to confirm what I already suspected.
"Raiders, seems you're not the only one who wanted this train," Joss grunts, taking another step up to join me.
"That means they'll blow the tracks, so we need to get off," I shout.
"Right, how?" We're fodder for the crossbow if we leap now. They're still firing on us but the wind, while at our advantage, is at my disadvantage. My shots are going wide and I've wasted two beautiful arrows.
"Keep them off me, I have a plan," I say, crawling towards the edge.
"You're never going to uncouple this car from here," Joss shouts, because again he sort of knows me it would seem.
"Try me," I mutter, selecting my arrow, and leaning over the edge of the car. Joss just shakes his head but obeys, fighting hand to hand with two guards.
I release a breath, taking aim. Nice and steady this one, cannot go wide. Thankfully I've had some practice in the wind up here. Shame to use the arrow but.
Joss, for some reason, chooses his potential last words to be, "OKAY I THINK YOU COULD HAVE TOLD ME YOU HAVE EXPLODING ARROWS YOU DUMBFUCK."
Which are just very curious last words. Does he not think I'd tell everyone he said that? I would. I'd have it written on his grave.
The car lurches off the tracks, the explosion enough not only to uncouple the last two cars, but also to topple them, the velocity of the train plus the explosion does anyway. I did suspect that it could come off the tracks, and stretch out my bow arm to catch Joss as we both fly through the air. I can't fully drag him from the now overturned car but I can  try, I was more prepared for the leap and am more adept at jumping with loaded backpacks.
We roll painfully into the dirt and gravel. I prioritize and protect my bow, and the remaining explosive arrows. Joss therefore fares a bit better, rolling not to a landing but also not striking his head on the ground twice like I do.
We both stumble to our feet amidst the dust, me checking my arrows (priorities), him tugging his goggles off and confirming he's unscathed.
Naturally we're being surrounded by the  raiders, whose electric bikes kick more more dust around us as they surround us and the toppled train car. Both of us drop our bags.
Joss, puts his hand on the hilt of his sword, motioning for me to stay back. We're outnumbered fifteen to one, his fear is justified.
"I got this," I whisper.
"These are probably cannibals you do not," he breaths.
I ignore him, patting his arm comfortingly.
Then I step forward, ripping off my now nearly useless goggles, and bowing deeply, one hand on my waist the other out to my side dramatically.
The leader of the raiders climbs from his bike, taking off his own goggles, and clapping lightly.
"Were you looking for this?" I ask, gesturing politely to the train car, while Joss makes a gutteral noise that is universal for 'shut the fuck up'.
"When I saw two lunatics standing ontop of an exploding car I thought 'ah, that must be my grandson'," my grandfather laughs, walking up and embracing me.
Joss looks between us quickly, clearly doing the mental math to conclude even if he didn't fully hear our words, that we are indeed related. I take after my mother, who takes after her father, the same bright quick eyes, shallow smirk, high cheek bones, and habit of touching things that weren't originally ours.
"Just a jump we were only after batteries," I say, as he he crushes me under an arm.
"Ah—hello sir," Joss handles this situation rather well I think.
"What's in there?" I ask, frowning.
"Something they thought was worth double guard," my grandfather says, shaking me around the shoulders, and looking at Joss, "Is this yours?"
"He's in my platoon he's fine," I say.
"I'm fine?" Joss squeaks, clearly concerned about being eaten.
"Have you seen my mother? We found something, I did the other week we don't know what it is," I say.
"No, but it looks like I'm running you home and your friend if you're keeping him—,"
"Yes he's keeping me!" Joss is sweating.
"Yeah but it's fine it's not a bad walk it looks like you have quite the haul," I say.
"Return the favor for uncoupling it, I know you're fond of your arrows."
"I thought the return of the favor was getting to keep our stash," I smirk.
"Maybe I'm soft on my only grandson."
"Maybe you really fucking want whatever's in that car."
"You want to see?" He asks, brushing dust out of my hair.
"Yeah we're not wanted anywhere."
"We absolutely are," Joss whispers.
"He's jumpy, where did you get him?"
"Platoon," I shrug.
"We'll get it unloaded, I'll run you home, go put your bags on my bike," he says, going to organize them opening the train car.
"Do not," I snatch Joss' arm, "They'll skim from it while we go in."
"All right," Joss breaths, like he doesn't know how properly.
"Will you relax? He's really my grandfather. I wouldn't act like this meeting your family," I reason. I know he has ancient blood in him too, or he said he did. It's not the same as my grandparents actually living out in the wilds but still.
"Wyle he has a human skull mounted on his bike."
"Yeah that's Justin," I say.
That does not make him feel better. I decide not to mention that my grandfather also has human teeth studding his belt, but I think Joss notices given the way he squeezes my arm for support. I choose not to tell him that the owners of the teeth died of non -teeth extraction related causes, as I judge that that information would not sooth him at all. I hardly intended for the interaction, and I'm aware it's unnerving. Those who live in the wilds are considered otherworldly, legends abound. We're more durable than most, and maybe have been exposed to more radiation. At least my mother choose a life inside the fence with my father, but that makes relatively little difference I know to Joss, who likely has only discounted tales and the odd legend of a great grandparent who roamed beyond the fences. Given that, Joss maintains his composure rather well, simply shouldering his backpack and following me back towards the train car.
The raiders of my grandfather's pack are just getting it open. I see Joss's eyes flit from their leather jackets to my grandfather, putting together that this isn't merely some relative gone wild but the self title King of Thieves, whose band, even if it's been led by different patriarchs and not as legend has it, just one, is still formidable and completely untouchable.
The train car door creaks open, and we duck in, amid the spilled batteries which are far from the prize that warranted double guards ready to die for their cause.
My grandfather steps forward, kicking the largest crate before drawing a knife to open it. Normally I could claim all this too since I derailed the car but I'm well aware I have no way of getting anything home but on my own back, which is already weighed down with batteries.
I move to the other side to help, quietly drawing my own blade. Joss isn't stupid and isn't about to draw a weapon in a car full of raiders. I'm family, he's well aware he's not. I give him a subtle nod that he made the right move not to go for a weapon.
The crate's lid pops off rather easily, to reveal mostly hay, and a smaller box nestled in the center. It looks like made of metal? But it has some wires. Not a bomb though it's not secure enough for that.
My grandfather laughs a bit, lifting the metal box as if to confirm his thoughts, then he sets it back down.
"What is it?" I ask, frowning, he clearly knows.
"Ask your grandmother sometime, she'll tell you," he says, setting back in the hay.
Joss looks at me, not daring to ask for more clarification, which I would if I were him. But I know my grandfather's words are final. And he did me the courtesy of not lying, just deferring a potentially deceitful explanation. Whatever it is, he's not going to enlighten me.
"Let's get you boys back to Naxos. I'm sure after that explosion your mother will be wondering what you've been up to," my grandfather says, shaking my shoulder fondly.
"Yeah about five years ago she started blaming random explosions on me it's truly unfair," I say, lightly, leading the way out of the train car. I pause to help Joss out, which he might not need but he grips my arm tightly anyway.
"Strange, I think she gets it from her pretty mother, go on who's your friend riding with?" He asks.
I know all the raiders. He's offering me a chance to get rid of Joss and keep his share of batteries. A trade I would normally accept. However.
"Me, let me drive," I say, holding up my hand.
My grandfather shrugs, snapping his fingers. One of the raiders tosses me a set of keys, and goes to ride double. I realize I steal food and clothes most of the time but among these people I'm their princeling. Would they hesitate to fight me for the batteries? No not at all with love, and I half expect it for the sake the of the exercise. But today they have cargo to move.
I get the bike. Joss follows me obedient as a puppy, climbing on the back and clinging to me for dear life. I don't if he's ever been on one.
My grandfather and a few others drive us back to the fence. We're making good time. I was betting on walking back. Instead we get an escort all the way to the fence that runs nearest the manor. It's unquestioned I'm being taken home to my mother. In a not very sentimental family it's one incredibly small concession. I don't actually care this time, since I'd sooner have a home cooked meal and drop off the batteries myself.
"My mother might have something to trade you," I tell my grandfather, as we get off the bikes, "I don't know I brought her stuff."
"From the last depot?" He asks, coolly.
I nod.
Joss hits me in the arm. He guessed I went in there but he didn't have proof. He technically still doesn't.
"I'll see her later," he nods, in recognition its likely highly valuably, "Take care." He holds out a hand to shake mine but tugs me into an embrace all the same.
"Good luck with the girl," he whispers.
I grin, "I don't need luck."
"That's my boy," he says, squeezing the back of my neck.
No one else heard the exchange. He should have had no way of knowing I'm trying to court Riley Emerson, but of course he did. And I long ago learned not to question his uncanny knowledge.
I toss the keys to the bike back to the raider and walk towards the fence, jerking my head for Joss to follow me. We're going up and over, my blouse thrown over the wire. We both make the climb and hop with relative ease and I can't tell if he's done it before. His hands are shaking so possibly not.
"About two miles before we hit a hunting trail down the manor, with the smoke my mother should be expecting us," I say, shouldering my bag, bow in hand to make it easier to have the big bag on my back.
"Thanks," Joss breaths.
"That was very basic directions, she may or may not feed us I didn't invite her so—," I shrug.
"No. Back there," he says.
"I didn't do anything. They're cool," I lie, "Just making a living like the rest of us."
"Is he—really your grandfather? That's not like a term of respect or something?" He asks.
"No, he's my mother's father, she says I look like him," I say.
"You do a bit," he breaths, wiping sweat from his brow, "Seriously, thank you."
"Fun wasn't it?" I ask, ignoring him, "Your first major train robbery? We should celebrate. Tonight after the others are alseep I won't wake you up sneaking out."
"What you're not going to sneak out?"
"Not by putting my foot in your face to climb into the ceiling. I'll leave before you go to sleep," I say, generously.
He sighs, shaking his head.
"What?" I ask.
"All this for a girl?" He asks, gesturing vaguely.
"The girl. And yes she's worth it," I say.
"You could have died."
"We could all of us die any day. It doesn't matter," I say.
"That's why you're like this? Because none of it's real to you?"
"It can't be. In a world where everything gets ruined, nothing can matter, nothing. Because it's just going to get taken away. Didn't your mother used to tell you the stories of hundreds of years ago before the bombs fell when you could see the sky everyday?" I ask, tipping my head up to look at the rolling dust clouds, "None of it matters anymore. Any of it."
"Then why'd you save my life?"
"You had my back on the train," I say.
"I'm not talking about on the train. I'm talking about after you know it," Joss sighs.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I do whatever I want, whenever, I don't protect people," I say.
"You wouldn't protect this girl?" He asks, poking my backpack.
"No. She will protect herself. You can't save anyone," I inform him.
We hike the rest of the way in silence, punctuated by Joss' slowly steadying breathing.
As I predicted my parents saw the smoke and blamed innocent little me, and are waiting at the back of the manor arms folded.
"You must've looked disappointed for ages! Have your faces frozen?" I shout.
"Outside the fence?" My father asks.
"You didn't invite me?" My mother asks.
"It was a spur of the moment decision," I say, dropping my backpack down, "Saw grandfather. He said he'd come by later to trade he's got a lot of these too don't let him tell you he doesn't."
"We don't blow up trains on the spur of the moment what have we talked about?" My father asks, really super nicely under the circumstances.
"I blew up the coupling," I say.
"Here," Joss puts down his bag as well.
"You can sell those in town or to us but we'll definitely underbid you," I say, as my mother inspects me for injury.
"No, they're yours, get your girl," Joss says.
"Oh that's—that would be why. We knew it'd be interesting, this is fine," my father breaths.
"Why are you doing that?" I ask, Joss, frowning.
"I'm not doing anything with 'em, and I don't need it. You do," Joss shrugs. He was always going to do that? He was, he didn't fill his bag with any urgency.  "I came along for the ride. It was—an adventure."
"His first major train robbery," I say.
"Oh we should celebrate. Come in and have something to eat," my mother says.
"We should be getting back to base," Joss says.
"Oh they'll know where to find me if they want me back," I say, cheerfully, as my mother embraces me again.
"Of course they will," Joss says.
"Let's get you a drink son, you—you said you saw your grandfather, Wy?" My father asks, hand on Joss' shoulder.
"Yeah he gave us a ride back to the fence," I say.
"Let's get you two drinks, how bad was that Wyle?" My father asks, sort of hugging Joss who leans against him with relief.
"Completely fine grandfather's very very nice—,"
"Wyle."
"He was wearing the teeth belt," I say.
"You've had a hell of a morning let's get you sedated," my father says.
"Thank god," Joss leans on my father miserably, "I thought I was going to die."
"You probably were."
"I'm glad you brought your father a friend."
"He was actually pretty useful on the train so I didn't let the pack eat him," I explain, in what I thought was a quiet voice.
It must not be, Joss faints.
My mother and I laugh, but we do move to catch him. Sort of. Slowly. My father catches him, shaking his head at us and trying not to laugh, "Wyle be nice."
"He's alive isn't he?"
"Yeah okay we're going to raise that bar eventually."