Sharra seemed to be feeling the same tension, and she leaned forward and coaxed a little more speed from her bike. I followed suit, and we rocketed through the eerie, green tunnel, eager to break out of the trees. From the corner of my eye, I caught signs of movement in the underbrush.
I saw a flash of fur; the gleam of an eye, but nothing I could identify. Roomie was staring at the side of the road with fierce intensity, though, making me feel sure that I wasn’t imagining things.
My neck and shoulders knotted with tension as I tried to divide my focus between piloting the bike and staying alert for danger that might leap from the forest. My heart almost stopped when a rabbit suddenly burst from the concealing foliage and dashed across the road in front of us. I fought for control of my bike and watched Sharra’s bike fishtail a little as she, too, fought to keep her bike on the rail. I slowed down a little; I was certain that the last thing we wanted was to wreck and find ourselves stranded and injured with whatever inhabited these woods.
Sharra continued zipping along the rail at top speed and soon pulled away from us. It might actually be a smart, strategic move, I thought. By spacing ourselves out, we were dividing the target. The creature would have to decide who to stalk. That could give us a moment of indecision that would let both of us skate through. Of course, it was equally likely that in splitting up we each became less intimidating and more appealing prey.
I could finally see a literal light at the end of the tunnel as the trees covering the road thinned out ahead. Sunlight was shining brightly on the road less than a mile ahead. Sharra had already burst out of the shadows and had slowed a little to allow me to catch up. I had a white-knuckled grip on the handlebars as I shot toward the welcoming light ahead. A few yards from the end of the trees the movement at the side of the road stopped.
I slowed enough to look back and saw—something—standing in the trees. It was about the size and shape of a grizzly, but it stood on two legs and it had been moving fast enough to keep pace with our bikes. No bear had ever moved like that. My heart in my throat, I turned forward again and brought the bike back to full speed as I followed Sharra away from the dark figure in the trees.
The unnerving sensation of being watched and followed faded as I left the darkest section of the woods behind. Though there was still a lot of plant growth on either side of the road, it never again grew thick enough to completely cover the road and block the sun.
I caught up to Sharra, and we both continued up the mountain at breakneck speed. The sun was sitting low on the horizon before Sharra finally slowed down. I braked with her as we reached a rusting sign for an exit ahead. The sign was listing to the left and holding on to the pole by only a single bolt, and the text was so weathered that I couldn’t read the name of the exit, but apparently this was our turn.
Sharra stopped at the top of the ramp and climbed off her bike for a stretch break. My body also ached with the need to change position. I rode a bike almost every day but not for so many hours at a time, so I was definitely feeling it. I turned off the bike and pulled my stiff leg over the seat to stand on the pavement.
I carefully lowered Roomie’s pack to the ground so he could stretch, too. He stepped lightly out of the rough folds of canvas, showing no sign of soreness from his hours of riding.
I took off my helmet and scrubbed my fingers through my hair to loosen the sweaty strands, then did a few bends and twists to relax my tight muscles. Roomie headed into the trees to answer nature’s call, and Sharra and I followed him, feeling nervous enough to stick together even for a bio break.
“So, what was that?” I finally asked as we walked back to the bikes. Though it had been over an hour since we left the tunnel of trees, Sharra knew exactly what I was talking about. She shuddered and shook her head.
“Super freaky, isn’t it?” she asked. “I have no idea what it is, but it scares me to death.”
“I get the feeling that it’s better to not know, like if you find out exactly what’s behind the trees, it’s probably the last thing you’d see,” I said with a shiver of my own. “That was awful.”
“It’s the worst thing about this trip. Whatever it is, it’s not always there. It’s probably showed up less than half the times I’ve been through that section. But when it’s there …” She trailed off, and I finished her sentence for her.
“It’s memorable,” I said. I hoped I’d never have to go through that again. I mentally crossed my fingers that the woods would be empty on our return trip.
“Yeah,” Sharra agreed with a short, sharp laugh. “Definitely memorable.” With visible effort, Sharra pushed away thoughts of the terrifying watcher in the forest and moved on to the next topic.
“We’re about five miles out from the vac-train depot,” Sharra told me. “You probably remember that there’s some basic security but nothing too fancy. As long as we wait for dark, we can sneak in without any trouble.”
I eyed the darkening woods around us with trepidation. I might have adapted to the wilds of Colorado over the last year and a half, but I was born and raised a city girl. I still found miles of uninhabited wild lands intimidating in the first place, but adding darkness and our recent experience with whatever lurked in the trees had me thoroughly spooked. I decided to sit down right there on the road with the heavy bike at my back to block anything that might come out of the bushes behind me. My eyes scanned the brush on Sharra’s side of the road, watching for any sign that we weren’t alone.
Sharra mirrored my position so she could watch my back and Roomie paced around us, keeping an eye out for danger. I felt a little better with Roomie on alert and ready to defend us, and I was able to relax enough to join Sharra in snacking on the bread and fruit she had tucked into her pack. Darkness fell quickly as the sun went down, so by the time we’d finished eating, it was late enough to move on.
We got back onto the bikes and followed the exit ramp onto a narrow road through the trees. Luckily, this road was built of the same tough material as the freeways and hadn’t been overtaken by woods. We had to stick to the center rail, but the road was passable. The trip was made more difficult because we had turned off the bike lights just in case there were any guards roaming around, but the light from the half moon was enough to navigate by as long as we took it slow.
We didn’t have far to go. A few minutes of travel brought us to the fence surrounding a cluster of unused, unguarded storage units. If there had ever been a gate blocking the entry, it was gone now, and we followed the road right into the small complex. We passed two rows of outbuildings before Sharra switched to rollers and turned away from the rail. I followed her down the aisle between the buildings to reach the last row of sheds, which were built into the side of the mountain.
Sharra stopped at the third unit and pulled out the security tag programmed by the pack’s hackers. The tag contained so many override codes that we had yet to encounter a door it couldn’t open.
As usual, a tap of the security tag was enough to pop the lock and the sliding door moved with only a whisper of sound to betray our presence. We rolled our bikes straight into the small shed and closed the door behind us. It was darker inside since we didn’t have moonlight, but my eyes adjusted and I was able to make out basic shapes at least.
Sharra covered the bikes with tarps to conceal them from anyone peeking through the small window in the door while I tested the interior door to be sure it was secure. Because these end units were built right into the side of the mountain, the interior door opened into the old tunnel systems that eventually led to the rest of the station. If anyone else was in the tunnels tonight, I didn’t want them to walk into this unit.
The door was bolted, so I helped Sharra use a couple of extra tarps to make a rough bed on the floor. The transport center was a lot emptier at night, making it harder to blend in and pretend to be employees, so we would catch a couple hours of sleep and find a train to Goodland in the morning.
Roomie patiently waited until we had arranged
the tarps to his satisfaction and then promptly settled into the very center of our little bed, leaving me and Sharra to fit ourselves around him as best we could. Morning would be here quickly, but for now we were safe, warm, and fairly comfortable. We were all sound asleep within minutes.
6
Something struck me on the side of my head and fell across my face, rattling me from my sleep. Groggy, my first instinct was to fight back. I struck out wildly and swiped frantically at my hands and face in an attempt to free myself. My momentary panic subsided when I heard Sharra laughing, and I realized that I was in a fight to the death with a wad of fabric. I managed to sit up and pull the stuff off my face as Sharra continued to giggle on the other side of the little room.
“You should see your face,” she snickered. “You’re so fierce!” Roomie, my ever-loyal protector, sat at her feet, amusement clear in his green eyes. I offered both of them a rude gesture, which only made Sharra laugh harder while Roomie turned his back on me to wash his face.
I ignored them both as I inspected the bundle Sharra had thrown at me. The bright orange color let me know that it was one of the jumpsuits worn by workers at the vac-train depot. Once we put these on, we could blend in with the other workers walking around the station while we found our way onto a train bound for the capital city.
I stood and pulled the jumpsuit on over my clothes. “Why are you so anxious to get moving? You’re usually the last one to drag out of bed.”
Sharra danced in place a little. “I really need a bathroom, and I know there’s one at the top of the stairs out there. I just hope we don’t have to make a dash through the tunnels, or I’m going to pee myself.”
I laughed a little, fastened the jumpsuit, and grabbed my backpacks from the floor. I tucked the small pack inside the larger pack. Roomie could walk for now, since we wouldn’t encounter any people in this unused section of the station.
“All right then, let’s go find a bathroom,” I agreed. I nudged Roomie gently with the toe of my boot. “Come on, cat. Time to get moving.”
He grumbled but climbed to his feet and padded over to the interior door. I pulled the tarps into a messy bundle and tossed them onto the bikes to further disguise the silhouette before I joined Roomie and Sharra. She carefully cracked the door so we could check for danger before we stepped out of our little sanctuary. We had been joking around to this point, but now that we were about to head into the tunnels, we adopted a more cautious attitude. We both remembered our flight from a Shadow on our last trip through this area.
Roomie pressed his nose to the crack and breathed in deeply. He dropped his mouth open to more fully scent the tunnels beyond the door and inhaled again. He was very still, seeming to think hard about what he smelled. Finally, he stepped back and patted at the door with one paw.
“I’d say it’s all right to open the door,” I told Sharra. “Try pulling it open. If I’m wrong, he’ll bite your hand or something to let you know that you should leave it closed.”
Sharra pulled a face at my lack of concern for her fingers but reached for the handle again. Roomie looked uninterested in biting her, so she pushed the door open the rest of the way. Roomie sauntered casually into the tunnel and clearly expected us to follow. We stepped into the tunnels, and Sharra softly closed the door behind us.
We walked down the hall on quiet feet. Though Roomie didn’t seem worried at all, I kept expecting to hear the piercing cry of a hunting Shadow ring through the tunnels. I forgot, though, that Shadows will also stalk their prey silently.
The scrape of wood against stone was my only warning before a Shadow dropped from the upper reaches of the tunnel, landing right in front of us. Sharra shrieked in surprise and I stumbled backward but Roomie didn’t hesitate for an instant.
He threw himself onto the Shadow, his razor-sharp claws digging into the lizard-dog’s head. The dog shook its head, trying to throw Roomie. Roomie let the momentum shake him loose and he flew toward the tunnel wall, only to turn himself in the air and rebound against the wall to leap onto the Shadow again.
This time, Roomie went for the eyes, slicing at them with a his claws while biting savagely at the dog’s nose. The Shadow yelped and whipped its head from side to side to dislodge the cat. Roomie dropped to the ground and stood there, a guard between us and the Shadow.
The Shadow wavered, confused by this turn of events. Seconds ago it had been only inches away from an easy meal, and now it was hurt, bleeding, and facing a threat it had never seen before. The Shadow growled a little and took a tentative step toward us. Roomie responded by raising his hackles, all the fur on his back and tail standing on end to make him look even bigger. He stared directly at the Shadow and yowled in warning.
The Shadow shuffled in place, undecided, until Roomie took one stiff-legged step toward the bigger animal and yowled again. The Shadow broke and ran, disappearing into the dark tunnels as abruptly as it had appeared.
Roomie strutted over to us, proud of himself. Sharra and I showered him with praise and affection for a moment, then we all hurried on our way before the Shadow could gather the courage to return.
7
The rest of our trip through the unused section was quick and we reached the door that led to the stairs without encountering any new dangers. Sharra used her security tag to open the door and we stepped into the dark and silent stairwell.
There was just enough light from the tiny emergency lights lining the stairs for me to look around and feel sure that there was nothing in the stairwell with us. I took my first deep breath in a while and relaxed a little as we climbed up two flights of stairs. When we reached the top, Roomie scoped things out by scent once again before going through the door. He indicated that it was safe to proceed, and I opened the door and followed him through.
The hallway was as gloomy and unnerving as I remembered from my last visit. We hurried through the corridor to the bathrooms and finished our business there as quickly as possible, anxious to leave the murky shadows behind.
I took just enough time to get Roomie settled into the pack on my back, then we left the bathrooms and almost ran the last few steps to the big metal door that opened onto the depot floor. Sharra yanked it open, and a wall of sound slammed into me as we stepped into the cavernous room that housed the largest vac-train hub on the continent.
Pressurized air hissed through the vac-tubes and burst explosively from the access hatches as trains jerked to a halt or jolted into motion. Metal clanged against metal, and power tools whined where mechanics serviced tracks and trains. Machinery growled as automated forklifts and carts loaded and unloaded the various cargo trains moving goods from city to city. Through it all, the workers shouted to be heard over the cacophony.
The relentless clamor was almost painful to me, though Sharra seemed unaffected. I guess she had learned to ignore the noise on her many trips through this station. I wanted to plug my ears but knew that would make me stand out among the workers who were going about their routine without cringing against the racket. Gritting my teeth against the palpable pressure of the noise beating at my eardrums, I followed Sharra down the stairs to the main floor. I was sure it was even worse for Roomie with his sensitive hearing. I hoped the fabric of the backpack muffled things a little.
Sharra snagged ear protectors from a bin of them at the bottom of the stairs and tossed a pair to me. I gratefully slipped the set onto my head and the noise level immediately dropped to more bearable levels.
I followed Sharra as she led the way through the maze of platforms and catwalks that surrounded the dozens of tracks in this section. Though the depot was vaguely familiar to me from my last trip through, I would have been hard pressed to remember the route without her. It chafed a little to feel helpless to find my own way. I always thought of myself as so strong and independent that I had a hard time taking help from anyone. At the same time, I was glad to have her as a guide, since I didn’t know the setup here.
Eventually we approached a tall man stan
ding behind a massive control panel bearing the label Cargo Control. His hands darted across the board, manipulating various flashing lights and icons for some unknown but seemingly important purpose. Sharra moved into his line of sight, and he stiffened and quickly glanced around to be sure that we were unobserved. No one was paying any attention to our little group, and his tight posture relaxed a little. He and Sharra didn’t seem to need words to communicate; they’d obviously worked out the details of their relationship long ago.
She pointed to a location on his board. I assumed she was telling him where we needed to go. He nodded and passed his hand over the board to bring up a new display. He flicked through several screens with quick gestures before pausing to study one thoughtfully. Apparently satisfied with what he’d found, he pointed Sharra toward a platform slightly behind us and off to the right, holding up four fingers. She nodded and gave him a quick fist bump, using the gesture to disguise her movements as she passed him a generous roll of bills in payment for his help.
Sharra walked away, and I trailed behind as she followed the directions from our friend in Cargo Control. We reached the indicated platform and walked down the string of enormous egg-shaped shipping containers until we reached a car with a large number four etched into the shining silver wall. Sharra tapped her security card against the access pad embedded in the surface, and an oval panel split into several pieces that slid into the walls of the container to create a door. I could see that the interior was already mostly packed with cargo, but there was still enough room for us.
Sharra gave the interior access panel a tap with her security card, and the door slipped closed with a little puff of air against our faces. The waves of sound from the floor were blocked by the closing door, and my entire head rang with the sudden silence. I pulled off the ear protectors and rubbed my poor, abused ears. It felt as if they’d been physically battered by the noise. Sharra smiled wryly at my actions.
Into Light (Shadow and Light Book 2) Page 4