Epilogue

Epilogue 2.03

---Crawford---

     Walking across the underground lot proves to be even more of a pain than hiking through the tunnels. You can't take one step without tripping over the subway rails—I feel like a hamster in some sort of sadistic maze. Except they reward hamsters for their suffering. Lucky rodents.

     They've got the individual trains packed tightly together, so that you can hop from train to train through the doors. But that's if whoever happens to be occupying the train in question at the time doesn't mind your passing through. Otherwise, it's a long trek around the cluster of trains, during which you're guaranteed to step on a nail or two.

     I smell barbecue. My mouth waters at the scent. They could be roasting rat for all I care; I haven't had a decent meal since our little arctic adventure. If someone had told me there'd come a day when I'd be craving fuzzy fish, I'd have asked for a shot glass full of anti-freeze and called it a day.

     My stomach grumbles—thinking of anti-freeze'll do that to a guy. Mya looks over at me, and I lower my head in shame. Curse you, infernal stomach! You don't hear my beard bitching about how damn itchy it is.

     "I'd kill for some grub," says Mya, winking at me sympathetically. "And I mean the insect. We had to eat some pretty questionable things during the zombie apocalypse. I can tell you all about it, if you like."

     "I think I'll pass. Rather not scare away my appetite." What am I thinking? Idiot! Passing up a perfect opportunity to get to know her better. I'd kick myself in the head if it didn't sound like hard work. Not to mention painful.

     As expected, I don't get another chance to strike up a conversation with her before we reach the train that's to be our home for the time being. Because nothing says "welcome home" like that cold, scuffed-up tin-can exterior. Ace ushers us inside through the tarp that hangs from the doorway leading into the first car. Like a shepherd herding cattle. Unassuming, oblivious cattle.

     "Not you," he says, grabbing the short girl by the arm. I was always lousy with names. For the longest time, I thought Topher's name was Peter. "Gisela, take Jewel and Jun to car six."

     "What?" The girl—Jewel, I guess—twitches. "W-wait."

     "Congrats," says Ace, ducking into the car and then tossing Jun a couple backpacks of what I presume is their stuff. "You've upgraded to permanent citizens."

     Gail crosses her arms. "There's an initiation process?"

     Ace shrugs. "Something like—"

     "It's a trick!" Jewel shouts at the top of her lungs. "They'll kill you!"

     Ace growls. "Gisela! Get them out of here."

     The K-word's enough to set us all off. I tighten my grip on my glass shank, admittedly not the brightest of ideas. Note to self: add a handle next time. Gail's eyes start glowing—she's letting Miu-sama take the wheel.

     The one called Gisela seizes Jewel and Jun, the former quite hysterical, and starts dragging them off to one of the other trains. Jewel bites Gisela's fingers, but doesn't manage to wrestle free.

     Topher inches forward, looking Ace right in the eyes. "What's she talking about?"

     Ace doesn't even break a sweat. Who does this guy think he is? If he'd seen half the things we'd gone up against and pulled through, his crap would be crapping its pants right now. "I'd rather not cause a scene."