The Toll {Book 2}

1. Midnight Train- Nadia

~1918~

Mud coated my boots so thickly that my gait turned into a rolling limp as I picked my way down the train tracks. The oozing damp of the unceasing snow penetrated my woolen socks, melting the fibers into my skin so I didn't even dare take them off anymore. I was too afraid to see the damage, and so I put it out of mind while sneaking through the grim winter night toward the motionless transport car at the rear of the train.

The wood smelled of mildew as I pressed my back against the side of the car and slid down to a crouch. With aching knees, I scooted underneath, dodging the metal wheels. Gruesome thoughts of the train starting early and catching me beneath its wheels flashed through my mind, but I quickly replaced the bloody images with thoughts of rested legs, sleep, and no more mud. These seemingly impossible miracles bolstered me enough to crawl across snow-covered pebbles toward the other side of the train car. I paused just on the threshold, clamping a hand over my mouth to stop the thick clouds of white breath from filling the black night air in front of me.

A handful of guards stood around a small fire, two cars up the track. Though they all wore large fur coats and hats, it was the bitter cold that had driven them down from their perches on the tops of the cars. The train didn't travel fast, but the wind was enough to steal a man's nose and ears if he wasn't careful. Scheduled breaks let the guards warm their extremities every eight hours, and it had taken me many weeks to work out where on the line our paths crossed.

Now I watched the guards as they stomped around and smoked, telling stories of friends that fought in the city. I couldn't hear their words exactly, but I knew enough of the soldiers of Prest and Lenotsakaya to know that any man could talk of nothing else but their brave comrades fighting in Rumonin.

Using the cadence of their conversations to mask the creaking of metal and old wood, I slowly pushed open the long door to the train car. The dusty smell of grain filled my nostrils immediately, and I wouldn't be surprised if I looked like a dog drooling over a steak. It had been days since my last proper meal, and countless hours since I'd eaten even a scrap of crust or the marrow from a frozen bone. Here was a food supply fit for an army, and I was about to bury myself in it. But I still had one more task before I'd rest my feet and fill my belly.

Ducking back into the shadows beneath the car, I crept to the side I'd come from, and stuck my hand into the moonlight. My skin glowed as white as the snow, and against the inky sky it was as good as a beacon. I waved it around a few times and then retreated to the open door. My heart beat oddly, and I clenched my rough skirt in my fists. There wasn't much time before the guards' break ended, and seeing a wide open grain door wasn't exactly inconspicuous. Seconds ticked away until finally I heard shallow breathing and looked down to see a scruffy head of blonde hair crawling out from under the train.

I offered my hand, and Ferdinand took it to help himself to his feet. The hunger-hollows of his cheeks caught the shadows of the night, lending him a look of death that made my stomach turn. He needed the grain more than I did. He'd been wasting away for far longer, and should he finally lose all his strength, I knew I wouldn't be able to carry him far.

I jerked my chin at the open side of the train car, and Ferdinand caught on. He hoisted himself into the dark recesses with shaking arms and only a few grunts. After following him, I waited a moment for the guards' conversation to pick up before sliding the door shut.

We plunged into heavy darkness. It pressed down like harsh hands, paralyzing. I took a few shaking breaths, trying to calm the hammering of my heart, before I crawled toward the sound of Ferdinand in the back of the car. His arm brushed against my leg and I felt my way down to sit by his side. With his breath heating the air against my cheek, I leaned into his shoulder.