Brightlands

Orsin

"Last chance to see," Hector grinned while ostentatiously pulling up his fly.

Julia didn't even look at him, her eyes trained upon the track. "Did you see anything?", she asked him.

"A couple of grey squirrels fucking, nothing special."

Orsin pretended not to hear Hector. He had been on patrol with Hector in this part of the Brock for the past three months. Orsin had got used to his crass jokes, his meanness. Hector liked to wind people up, and maybe because Orsin was a Boot Two and Hector was only a Boot One, he really liked to wind up Orsin.

Instead, Orsin trained his eyes on the surrounding woodlands for movement. He always got nervous at this time, just before the train was due to arrive. Unlike most of the area to the south of the Inner City, the Brock was high and dry and this stretch of track cut passed along the ridge through dense woodland. This stretch of track always felt exposed. Whole armies could be waiting in those woods. They always tried to board the train quickly, the train never coming to a complete stop. If the engine cooled it would take time to heat up and gain speed and they didn't want to be waiting around.

"Shouldn't it be here by now?" Julia asked.

Orsin said nothing.

"I heard the Crows have been seen on the ridge," she added.

Orsin glanced at Julia. Some people would get you talking just so they could report you for insubordination. "The Quarter Head says we shouldn't believe everything we hear."

"Especially from the Quarter Head," Hector smiled grimly.

Orsin grimaced but didn't respond.

Then he heard it, the distant rattle of a train coming from the south. Where the tracks met steam billowed upwards before dispersing quickly in the light wind.

"Attention, guns ready" Orsin called out, his manner steady.

Julia and Orsin, cocked their pistols. Again Orsin searched the wall of thick green on either side of the tracks for signs of movement.

The train approached at terrific speed now, it's nose pressed into the track. It's approach, single minded. Orsin noticed that the train's sides were not only defended with sleek sheets of metal, thin to remain light, slippery and difficult to scale; but that the train was also adorned in barbed wire, just like a tree of the Mother Earth garlanded with holly.

"All that metal for a bit of grain." Hector wondered aloud.

Orsin's ears pricked up. He turned sharply to face Hector. "Who told you it was grain?" Orsin looked directly into Hector's eyes.

Hector didn't flinch. "No one had to tell me, Orsin. If it comes through Ladiwel on a Tuesday it's probably grain."

Orsin knew he should pull him up for insubordination. Hector knew better than to call him by his first name.

"You should be careful, that's classified information," Orsin said instead.

"Maybe I didn't know, maybe you just told me."

Orsin pretended not to hear. He didn't want to show Hector he was rattled. He stared at Hector again, but Hector knew the challenge was empty and held his gaze. Orsin, without meaning to, let his eyes drop. He turned to face the approaching train and, straightening up, held up his hand, alerting the driver to their presence.

"Grain, coal, lithium, what does it matter," Hector opined more confidently this time. "The only thing the city doesn't need is water."

The train slowed but didn't stop. Orsin noticed the number of Boots on board; at least two to a carriage, heavily armed and alert. The train was slowing rather than stopping but the driver looked nervous. Orsin was the first to grasp the metal railing and pull himself aboard.