Fate Uncertain

by Kim Cleary

  The old stiff man stood with a loud, "Excuse me."

  An even older woman tapped her walking stick on the floor. "Young man..."

  The conductor ignored them both and disappeared back through the connecting door. If we weren't at Brimbank, then where were we? And what were we doing here? I opened the window to see further along the track. Soldiers paced the length of the train as if on guard duty. All the passengers twisted in their seats to see what they could.

  "There's a checkpoint on this side," one passenger called out. He walked the length of the carriage and checked the doors. All locked.

  "I will complain to my councilor." The old woman banged her walking stick on the floor. "Bring whoever is in charge to me."

  No one answered her. I'm not sure what she expected a fellow passenger could do.

  The connecting door swung open and everyone turned to face the newcomer. A young soldier climbed on board and stood at attention at the front of the carriage.

  He blew a short high-pitched whistle. "Everyone out."

  Chapter 5

  No one moved. Like me, the other passengers stared at the young soldier who'd boarded the train to Brimbank and now stood at attention at the front of the carriage.

  He blew his whistle again. "Everyone out. Please."

  The stiff old man stood and lifted his arms. "Our bags—"

  "Will be returned to you, sir. Exit quickly, please."

  The soldier gripped a long rifle against his chest. He didn't look old enough to shave, let alone carry such a weapon.

  An older man swung through the door.

  "Captain Flint." The young soldier snapped to attention. "This is the last cabin to be cleared."

  "Good. Get these people moving." Captain Flint ran his hand across his brow. The tightness around his mouth and eyes didn’t invite questions.

  I strode to the exit and jumped down the two steps to the rocky ground. They hadn't stopped us at a station. More soldiers directed us to keep moving. At the front of the train, another group of soldiers huddled in the shade of a huge canvas shelter. I spotted my bag among a pile of luggage, grabbed it and joined my fellow travelers in the shade.

  "Who's in charge here?" A stout woman nudged one of the soldiers with the tip of her sun umbrella.

  "I am." The captain pushed his way through the crowd.

  "I am visiting my daughter. When will we be permitted through?"

  He lifted his hands and his voice, and addressed us. "Only residents will get into Brimbank."

  Loud groans echoed through the crowd.

  "I live with my daughter every summer." The large woman raised her voice to match his.

  He pointed to a small table, a glower forming on his face. "Form a queue. I'll see anyone who can prove they live here. Everyone else, get back on the train."

  My stomach rolled. So close to Brimbank. I wouldn't give up now.

  Three people grouped around the desk. A few people seized their bags and sauntered back to the train doors. The rest of us milled uncertainly in the shade. Other people as keen as me to get into the town, all of us trying to think up a story that would get us in.

  The captain slumped into a seat behind the desk. A junior officer stood next to him taking names and addresses.

  A soldier pushed my back. "Make up your mind, miss."

  A group of soldiers hovered behind me. Another two patrolled the length of the train. I couldn't easily sneak into Brimbank and try and find Glynn on my own, I didn't know where he’d be. Bloody heat made it too hot to walk, anyway. I wrung my hands together. Could I trust the military if I asked for him?

  The mayor approved my visit as official council business. Perhaps I should ask to speak with the commander in charge of Brimbank? No. I had to find Glynn before I did anything else.

  Each person before me seemed to take forever. We squashed together in the shade. Peeeuuuww. Breathing in other people’s body odors and various scents trying to cover them, made my stomach roil. The soldiers’ boots flicked up dry dust as they marched from one place to another. The glare of the sun made it painful to look anywhere but at the ground.

  Finally, it was my turn.

  I stepped to the front of the desk.

  Captain Flint stared up at me. This man looked to be much the same age as Glynn, who would be celebrating his twenty-ninth birthday in a few weeks. Perhaps they knew one another, trained together, trusted one another. He wiped sweat from his eyes. "Don't try and tell me you live here." He leaned back against the seat.

  I handed my councilor’s card to him. "I'm visiting from Winterhurst."

  He dropped the card on the desk. "You don't live here. Get back on the train."

  "It's an official visit." I stiffened my shoulders.

  He crossed his arms across his chest, fixed his stare on my face. "Sergeant."

  A soldier as big as a bear filled the space behind me.

  I snatched my card, squashed it back into my satchel. "I'm visiting Captain Glynn Buckley."

  "If you are visiting Major Buckley in an official capacity. "Why isn't he here to meet you?"

  Surprise sounded in the captain's tone, surprise that Glynn hadn't arrived to meet me. He had to be alive, and well.

  I squeezed my hands into fists to try and keep the excitement out of my voice. "I'm on an earlier train than expected."

  An eternity seemed to pass.

  "I said only residents. Put Ms. Greystone on the train Sergeant." The captain dismissed me with a flick of his wrist.

  The bear–sized man lifted me in one quick movement and slung me across his shoulder. Upside down, my pulse pounded in my head. He tossed my bag into the carriage as if it weighed nothing. He climbed into the carriage in one step and thrust me hard into the closest corner seat.

  He pointed a fat finger at me. "Don't even think of moving."

  He leapt from the carriage; someone bolted the door shut behind him. Winded, I caught my breath. I clutched my bag and darted down the corridor to the other door.

  Damn. Also bolted shut.

  The train hooted its whistle, the engine roared into life, and the carriage started vibrating as the train moved slowly. It wouldn't take long to pick up speed.

  An older man watched me with amusement. "Don't do it, lass. They'll not be happy."

  I kicked the useless door. I didn't have long. I ran to the connecting door to the last carriage and yanked it open. The two old men who gossiped on the journey to Brimbank, stopped briefly when I burst into the carriage.

  Double damn. Both doors in this carriage bolted tight.

  I yanked the door to the luggage cart at the end of the train, it swung open. I pushed my way through the heavy door and into open-air.

  Now or never.

  How hard could it be to jump from a moving train? I'd seen it on old movies. Flex your knees, jump clean, land and roll. No one at the makeshift train stop watched the departing train. I shoved my hat into my bag, tightened my satchel around my body, threw my bag and jumped out right after it.

  I don't know how many times I rolled in the dirt. Bits of straw stuck into my scalp. I wiped dust from my eyes and found blood on my face where something sharp scratched from my cheek to the tip of my nose. I wobbled to my knees, spat out a mouthful of dust. My bag lay a few feet away. My gut stung from rolling over my satchel several times. One ankle felt tender, too tender to put my weight on.

  Crouched in the dead weeds alongside the track, I watched the checkpoint. The soldiers looked settled. Even if I waited until dark—which was hours away—apart from heading towards the city in the distance, I had no idea where to find Glynn.

  No choice. I had to return to the checkpoint. Make them take me to Glynn. I wobbled upright and jammed my crushed hat on my head. With stabbing pain climbing my leg, I limped back to the captain's desk.

  He jammed his hands on his hips. "I guess you really like the sound of the stockade for the night."

  "I'm guessing you didn't hear me correctly." I stared back at him
. "I'm Councilor Greystone, and I'm here to see Major Buckley. Official business."

  "We've already had this conversation. Why isn't he here to meet you?"

  "I told you. I'm on an earlier train than we arranged."

  "This is the Army, lady. If you have an appointment at 3pm on Tuesday. You damn well turn up at 3pm on Tuesday."

  "Major Buckley is expecting me." I emphasized the word major.

  He glowered at me. I stared him down.

  "If he doesn't confirm it, I will lock you in the stockade for a week. Is that clear? It's dark in there. Hot in the day. Worse at night. If the rats don't eat you alive, the mosquitoes will."

  "I will not spend any time in your stockade, captain."

  "Wait in there." He pointed to a tiny hut at the edge of the tent.

  I heaved my bag over my shoulder, bit off a wince as the bag smashed into a bruise, and limped to the hut.

  "Get her some water," the captain yelled.

  I didn't turn around to see who responded, it took all my focus to put one foot in front of the other. At the hut, I stumbled up the steps into the tiny space. Heat radiated in from the walls. I breathed out a long sigh, and climbed the steps into the oven. It had no chair, not even enough room to stretch my hands to the sides. I pressed my back into the corner and slid down the wall onto the floor. Someone handed me a mug full of warm water. I gulped it in a few seconds.

  At least it was heavily shaded. I had no idea how long it would take them to find Glynn. But he was alive. I swallowed a hard lump in my throat. I'd tried to cooperate with the military, hopefully Glynn would see it that way.

  He'd be surprised. Maybe angry. Probably angry. Stubborn.

  If he clammed up and wouldn't answer my questions, I'd have to find a way to loosen his lips.

  Fingers pressed into my arm, a hand shook my shoulder.

  "Meagan. Wake up."

  Even taut and gravelly, Glynn's voice stirred the orchestra in my heart. I stretched my back, peeled myself away from the sticky walls and climbed to my feet.

  He stood achingly close in the small room, his hands hugged his hips, the lines around his eyes tightened. "What the hell happened? You look like you've been in a barroom fight. And came off the worst."

  "They tried to put me back on the train. I had to jump off—"

  Beard stubble roughened his usually clean-shaven chin. If I stretched onto my toes he would still tower a foot taller than me, but I couldn’t do it. My ankle throbbed, though not as angrily as it had. I swayed toward him, he caught me in his strong arms and delicious sparks tingled across my skin. For a few magical seconds, he held me tight.

  "Holy shit." He raked his hands though his hair, shorter than normal, but still thick, silky black under the sweat and dust. "You could have been hurt, badly."

  "I’m fine. I had to see you. Your letter, the newspaper. " I ran my tongue across my parched lips. "Major Buckley?"

  He turned from me and called out the door. "Get water."

  He unstoppered the bottle he was handed, gave it to me and watched me gulp the bottle empty. The expression on his face didn't change. "My letter was meant to stop you from worrying. It's temporary. The Colonel wanted me at a higher rank to control the operation. Of all the dumb fool ideas. This is a war zone. What the hell? What are you doing here?"

  I wiped the water from my chin. "I can help. You know I can."

  His shoulders shook; he leaned his mouth next to my ear. "The last thing we need is an amateur necromancer stirring up more trouble."

  "Amateur?" I punched his shoulder. "I don't stir up trouble. I assume the trouble you've got is the kind I deal with?"

  His eyes narrowed. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He didn't want to answer the question. Which meant he'd answered it with a silent yes.

  "I'm the one who's job it is to handle the undead, remember."

  We stared at one another for several seconds. His back seemed straighter, the dark circles under his eyes deeper. His face softened, he stroked his fingertip across my cheek. "There's nothing you can do here. You're going home. I need to know you’re safe."

  If he thought it would be too dangerous for me here, then he needed me more than he knew. Trust him to rate his concern for me more important than my concern for him. If I couldn't convince him he needed my help, I'd work out a way to stay behind his back.

  I reached my hand to his cheek. "I have to stay. I need to know you’re safe."

  At my touch, he tensed. He wrapped his fingers around mine, a half smile lifted his lips. "Look at you. Battered and bruised. I could let Captain Wilson throw you in his stockade."

  I jutted out my chin. "Or?"

  He shook his head at me. "You're going home tomorrow."

  He grabbed my bag, moved from the opening, and signaled me to leave the tiny hut. Unsteadily, I stepped down the stairs. He jumped down the steps after me and strode away. I balanced the satchel across my back and paced after him. Tall, slim, and lithe, he usually moved with the grace of a dancer. Not today. Now his shoulders looked set in cement, he marched with straight legs. Like a soldier on a mission.

  The sun still shone, I hadn’t been waiting long, we were some hours away from twilight. We walked past a row of bored-looking soldiers. Several stood taller as Glynn walked by. We followed a line of scrub to a clearing where a young soldier stood stiffly next to a squat, square vehicle, every surface covered in glinting mirrors.

  "Sir." The young soldier saluted crisply.

  Glynn took my bag and slung it onto the back seat.

  I'd seen pictures of a solar-powered jeep in the newspaper, but I never thought I'd get to travel in one.

  The young soldier jumped into the seat behind the steering wheel and turned a key.

  "You're limping." Glynn tutted as he lifted me into the back seat over a low door.

  He adjusted the canopy so it shielded me, and sat next to the driver. I stretched my legs across the seat and pressed myself against the hard leather, much harder than the soft seats in my carriage at home.

  The sudden movement forward jolted me back, I gripped onto the sides of the car. The set of Glynn's shoulders didn't invite any more questions, I slumped back against the seat. If he stayed this angry with me for the rest of the night, I wouldn't find out anything before he sent me home.

  Tried to send me home.

  Chapter 6

  The skyscrapers of Brimbank City gleamed gold in the harsh sunlight. It was probably just light reflecting from windows, but it still looked magical. We soon turned onto a smooth road that led all the way into the city.

  The driver pulled to a stop next to wide metal gates within a tall wire fence. A single soldier jumped from a wooden hut on the other side, ran to the lock, and slid the gate just wide enough to let us through.

  "Why the fence?" I broke the silence. A crisscrossed wire fence wouldn't be useful against many undead.

  "When the gated communities were first built, we didn't know who the enemy was." Glynn turned around to face me. "They make the people living inside feel safer at least. I'm billeting with Del Tanner. Her husband was one of the first sergeants to go missing." Glynn blew out a long breath, some of the tension disappeared from his voice. "I've known them both for a long time. We haven't found his body yet. Del won't give up hope."

  I gripped the back of Glynn’s seat. "How many soldiers are dead? How many are missing?"

  "Nine missing. No bodies found yet."

  The Jeep picked up speed again and we traveled along wide streets lined with houses, most still shuttered against the sun. I relaxed again, it didn't look like he was taking me to a stockade anywhere. It sounded like Del Tanner would be home. I'd have to get Glynn alone to quiz him and give him the amulet. We jolted to a stop in front of a whitewashed single-story bungalow. I recognized the style from the old books and magazines I'd read in St. Stephen’s library. An ordinary suburban house, except it was in a small community surrounded by a fence designed to keep out the undead.
r />   No pictures of that in the old magazines.

  Glynn jumped from the vehicle, gripped his hands around my waist and lifted me onto the ground. The driver saluted and drove away.

  Glynn’s hands curved against my hips. His face lit up in his lopsided grin. "Your hat might be crooked."

  I turned the battered hat around, showed him a few profile poses. "No, it’s built in twilight protection."

  He grinned. "You were such a sensible girl when I met you."

  "I guess you’ve been a bad influence."

  "I certainly hope so." He softly kissed my mouth.

  At the touch of his lips, a quiver started deep inside me. I slid my hands up his chest, twined them around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. He traced my lips with his tongue. I opened my mouth to his caresses and the intoxicating taste of him flooded my senses.

  He broke the kiss and eased back. "But no more jumping off trains. Can you walk?"

  I loosened my grip and slid my hands down his chest. His heart thumped under my palm, and for a few seconds our ragged breaths sang a coarse duet. I nodded, confident I could at least limp to the front door. Glynn swung my bag onto his shoulder and strode up a neat garden path to the front door. A deep bark echoed in time with Glynn's steps. I followed at a more sedate pace.

  The door swung open before he stepped the porch. A woman, her thick blond hair tied in plaits at each ear, pecked Glynn's cheek with a quick kiss. She looked older than Glynn, perhaps in her late 30s, but still slim, fit, and full of energy.

  "Meagan decided to make a surprise visit." Glynn kissed the woman’s cheek in return. "Meagan, meet Del Tanner."

  I stretched out my hand; she clasped it in a firm grip. "This is the witch you've told me about." Her voice took on a steely edge. Her gaze traveled from my feet up my tattered trousers and torn shirt to my certainly dusty face.

  I hadn't looked in a mirror since jumping from the train. Didn’t need it to know I must look like a dirty tramp. Her eyes hardened and her stare bore into my face even though her question addressed Glynn.