The more time Dobson spent aboard the company train, the more she hated it with every fiber of her being. It was large, unnecessarily gaudy, and built with far too many inconvenient fail-safes. The navigation controls, for example, housed within the safety of the locomotive cab, could not be accessed via Bradley’s private train car. The controls could not be accessed from the rest of the train period. The locomotive cab was kept separate, ensuring that if the rest of the train was unexpectedly boarded, the perpetrators would be unable to reach the engine’s controls.

  The cab possessed a single point of entry—inconveniently placed on the outside of the locomotive itself. Unfortunately for Dobson and Misty, the only way to reach it was to also be outside. Which, alas, meant retracing their steps back through the interlinked train cars, all while lugging a dead man in their wake.

  Misty floated the idea of severing his hands and head, thus lightening the load, but Dobson refused. The last thing she needed was to get all the way outside only to realize they were missing a vital piece, and have to double back to retrieve it. As the only one physically strong enough to haul a dead body over her shoulder, Dobson’s say on the matter was final. After that, it was only a mere matter of limping back the way they’d come.

  They retrieved their weapons outside of Bradley’s private quarters and then continued on their way, trudging from one car to the next. The journey was slow, but uneventful. Upon reaching the caboose, Dobson staggered out onto the rear platform to find the faint embers from the loader fire still burning in the distance. The still night air was dark and suffocatingly warm. Perhaps it was already morning again, Dobson thought. Or mid-afternoon? Trapped underground in a world of perpetual darkness, time had little meaning.

  Whatever time of day it was, it was hot and dark and she hated it.

  Still suffering from the effects of the disrupter, Misty moved at the speed of a geriatric tortoise. She limped through the rear door and leaned against the iron railing, breathing heavily.

  “The conductor might have been telling the truth.” Dobson scanned the surrounding area for movement. There was only sand. Miles and miles of rolling sand, before it too, disappeared, swallowed by the oppressive dark. The light tower glowed ominously overhead, staining the quiet town of Misery Gulch with its miserable red glow. “I don’t see anyone.”

  Misty drummed her fingers against the railing nervously. Breathless, she said, “Then we’d best get moving before that changes.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need more time?”

  Misty dismissed Dobson’s concerns with a limp wave of her hand. “I’ll manage.”

  “If you say so.” Determined to expend as little energy as possible, Dobson leaned out over the railing and let the conductor’s body slide from her shoulder. It struck the ground with a muffled thud below. Satisfied with her handiwork, Dobson followed, slowly descending the iron ladder one rung at a time.

  Misty gawked at Dobson in disbelief, too stunned to muster a response.

  “What?” Dobson lost sight of Misty as she slid further down the ladder.

  “Did you seriously just drop him over the side of the train like a sack of potatoes?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “Do you have no respect for the dead?”

  Dobson’s feet soon struck sand. She stepped away and craned her head back, gazing up at Misty with a single raised eyebrow. “Says the woman who wanted to carry him out in pieces.”

  “There you go again.” Misty conceded the argument with a roll of her eyes. She turned around and descended the ladder, her speed hindered both by the stiffness in her legs and the fact that she had only one arm. “Using my own words against me. It’s not very fair, you know. I can’t help what comes out of my mouth.”

  Misty’s left foot missed the final rung. Caught off guard, her grip slipped and she descended the rest of the way faster than expected. It was only a few feet between the base of the ladder and the sand. Falling such a distance presented more of a shock than a danger, which was why Dobson’s reaction caught them both by surprise. She reached out, quick as a flash, and caught Misty before she stuck the ground.

  Realization hit a split second later. Fighting the overwhelming sense of embarrassment that flushed across her nose, Dobson swiftly set Misty back onto her wobbly legs and turned away, pretending it didn’t happen.

  “What the hell was that?” Misty whirled around, face pinched with anger.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  “Would you rather I had let you drop?”

  “Jeez Louise, Dobsy, when did I stop being your rough and tumble partner and turn into the old lady next door?” Misty placed her hand on her hip, an expression that would have been far more formidable had she had two hands to drive home her point. “What’s next? Are you going to hold my hand when we cross the street? Tie my shoes for me? Chew my food?”

  Try as she might, Misty was an easy read. She wasn’t simply angry; she was embarrassed. Not over Dobson’s help, per se, but the fact that she’d needed help in the first place. Dobson felt a twinge of empathy. It wasn’t easy admitting your body was failing you. She knew that more than anyone. She also knew there wasn’t any point in bringing it up, either.

  Dobson bent and collected the conductor’s body. Adjusting his weight over her shoulders, she staggered for the front of the train, brushing past Misty as she went. “I seem to recall you mentioning that you hated the nickname Mad Misty. We could change it to The Old Lady, if you wanted.” She laughed at her own joke. “Dastardly Dobson and The Old Lady. It has a ring to it, no?”

  Misty kicked up sand as she followed, pouting. “No!”

  Together, they trudged across the red sand, following the long line of coupled cars until they reached the locomotive positioned at the front. The cab was in pristine condition, untouched by the earlier violence. Its sleek silver siding reflected the ominous red glow of the light tower.

  Misty assumed the lead from there. One-handed, she scaled the ladder bolted to the side of the cab, heaving her body up one rung at a time until she reached the door. She tried the handle but, as expected, found it bolted shut. She crouched at the top of the ladder and studied the embedded lock screen. With a press of a button, the screen powered to life and flashed a series of instructions.

  “Hand first,” Misty called down to Dobson.

  Dobson’s reluctant gaze moved from the top of the ladder down to the dead conductor sprawled near her feet. While lifting him was not out of the question, it also went against her vow to expend as little energy as possible. There was only one other way. Activating her plasma cutter, she severed the conductor’s right hand and tossed it up to Misty, fighting the inappropriate urge to shout, ‘Hands up’.

  Misty caught it in the cradle of her arm and drew it close to her body. She scowled back down at Dobson. “Now, suddenly, you’re unopposed to cutting him into pieces?”

  “We still don’t know which pieces we need. Might as well have the whole thing,” Dobson replied. “Will you stop glaring at me and try the hand already? I don’t like being out in the open like this.” A shiver worked its way down her titanium spine. “Feels too vulnerable.”

  Misty balanced precariously on the top rung. With her arm looped around the ladder for support, she reached out and placed the dead man’s palm against the biometric scanner. The screen changed color, flashing from gray to blue. “Hand scan is a go.”

  Dobson stepped aside to avoid the hand on its way back down. “We’re in?”

  “Halfway. All we need now is a positive retina scan.”

  Dobson mentally checked the status of her fuel canister. The compressed air supply was running low. She wouldn’t have enough to keep powering her plasma cutter for much longer. Hopefully, this would be the last time she needed it. Swallowing her sigh, she hollered to Misty, “So the head then?”

  “The head,” Misty confirmed.

  Gripping the conductor by the hair, Dobson cleaved his head from his neck in a single slice. She dared not toss it up to Misty, fearing what would happen if her partner failed to catch it. The last thing she needed was to get hit by a falling head. Grudgingly, Dobson stashed her cutter back into position and ascended the ladder, stopping just short of Misty. She passed the head to her awaiting partner, grumbling, “This had better work.”

  “You could have just given me the eye,” Misty said sweetly as she pressed the conductor’s face to the screen. It blinked red. Scowling, she tried again, repositioning the head against the glowing bio-lock display.

  Dobson scoffed. “I was not about to dig his eye out of its socket.”

  The screen flashed blue once more. A soft click followed and the heavy metal door slid away, granting access within the locomotive cab.

  “Better take this with me just in case.” Misty tucked the head under her arm and disappeared inside. “As they say, two heads are better than one.”

  Dobson climbed to the top of the ladder and peered inside. For such a large piece of equipment, the inside of the locomotive cab was surprisingly small. Impossibly small, even. The interior glowed a soft blue, lit by a myriad of diagnostic screens that formed the main dashboard. The air was warm and hummed with the buzz of electrical energy. It made the hair on Dobson’s arm stand on end.

  She pulled her head to the side with a grimace. Dobson loathed tight spaces enough already. Claustrophobia, the steady on and off blink of lights, combined with the cab’s oppressive heat and constant electric buzz, transformed the space into a personal nightmare. There was no way in hell she was following Misty inside unless it was absolutely necessary. And even then, she would have to think hard about it.

  Misty, on the other hand, appeared unaffected by the cab’s oppressive aura. She plopped down into the conductor’s chair and set his head onto the scuffed floor by her feet. Reaching into her mouth, Misty popped the false tooth from her back molars and plugged it into the drive. Her eyes glowed the same blue as the surrounding data screens.

  It wasn’t the first time Dobson had seen it, and still, the sight made her squirm. She glanced back down the ladder at the sand below, realizing just how much she missed solid ground. “You need me to do anything?”

  Misty summoned a holographic keypad with a swipe of her hand. Her fingers swept across it so quickly, they transformed into a hypnotic blur. “Nah, I got it from here, Dobsy. Why don’t you go stand watch? I’ll let you know if anything changes.” She added under her breath, “And maybe don’t fall asleep this time, yeah?”

  Dobson did not need to be told twice. Gingerly, lowering one stiff leg down at a time, she descended the iron ladder. She reached the final rung and then dropped, heaving a sigh of relief when both boots sank deep into the sand.

  Relief, sadly, was short-lived.

  A shadowy figure leapt out from hiding. “Freeze!”