Better? she mouthed, but Wolf only glanced away.
“They’ll have noticed we’re missing,” he whispered.
The nearest android spun toward them and Scarlet ducked, worried that even her hair could draw attention.
When the android rolled away again, Wolf slinked forward, holding back a tree branch for Scarlet to pass beneath.
They moved at a tractor’s pace, crouched low to keep out of sight. It seemed every step Scarlet took sent another creature scurrying away for cover—a squirrel, a tiny swallow—and she feared that the androids would be able to track them by the disturbed wildlife alone, but no warning alarm came from the tracks.
They stopped only once, when a streak of blue light danced on the trunks over their heads. Scarlet followed Wolf’s lead and pressed herself nearly to the ground, listening to the pounding of her heart, the rush of adrenaline in her ears.
With a start, she felt Wolf’s warm fingers pressing into her back. They were steady against her, calming, as she watched the android’s light scan back and forth, darting into the forest canopy. She risked the slightest tilt of her head until she could see Wolf beside her, immobile, every muscle taut—except the fingers of his other hand, which were tapping, tapping, tapping against a large rock, expelling the nervous energy that had nowhere else to go.
She watched the fingers, half mesmerized, and didn’t realize that the light had flickered away until the pressure of Wolf’s touch lifted from her back.
They prowled on.
Soon the train was behind them, the noise of lost civilization fading in the chatter of crickets and toads. When Wolf seemed satisfied they weren’t being followed, he led them out of the forest and back down to the tracks.
Despite the growing distance between them and the train, neither spoke.
Just as the sun was kissing the horizon, almost blindingly bright in those rare moments when it could be glimpsed through the trees, Wolf stopped and turned back. Scarlet halted a few steps ahead of him and followed his gaze, but she saw nothing but overgrown sticker bushes and long shadows that had no end.
Her ears were perked, listening for another howl, but she couldn’t pick up anything but bird chatter and, overhead, the squeaks of a colony of bats. “More wolves?” she finally asked.
A long silence, followed by a terse nod. “More wolves.”
It wasn’t until he started walking again that Scarlet released a captured breath. They’d been walking for hours without sign of another train, a cross-section of tracks, or civilization. On one hand, it was beautiful here—the fresh air, the wildflowers, the critters that came to the edge of the brush to watch Scarlet and Wolf before scurrying back into the ferns.
But on the other hand, her feet and back were sore, her stomach was growling, and now Wolf was telling her that the less loveable creatures of the forest were prowling nearby.
A chill rushed up her arms. Untying her hoodie from her waist, she tugged it on and yanked the zipper up to her neck. Pulling out her portscreen, she deflated to see that they’d gone a mere eighteen miles; they had another thirty to go before they reached the nearest station.
“There’s a junction coming up, in about a half mile.”
“Good,” said Wolf. “Whatever trains were scheduled to come through on these tracks won’t be making it through any time soon. We should start seeing some trains after the junction.”
“And when this train comes,” she said, “how do you plan on getting us onto it?”
“Same way we got off the last one.” He sent a sly grin toward her. “Like jumping off a barn, was it?”
She glared. “The comparison doesn’t work as well for jumping back onto a train.”
His response was that same teasing smile, and Scarlet turned away, thinking that maybe she didn’t want to know what his plan was, so long as he had one. A late-flowering shrub trembled just off the path and Scarlet’s heart thumped—until a harmless pine marten crawled out and disappeared into the trees.
She sighed, annoyed at her restlessness. “So,” she said, disrupting Wolf in another backward glance. “Who would win in a fight—you or a pack of wolves?”
He frowned at her, all seriousness. “Depends,” he said, slowly, like he was trying to figure out her motive for asking. “How big is the pack?”
“I don’t know, what’s normal? Six?”
“I could win against six,” he said. “Any more than that and it could be a close call.”
Scarlet smirked. “You’re not in danger of low self-esteem, at least.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing at all.” She kicked a stone from their path. “How about you and … a lion?”