me move Cyler.”
I heard a few grumbles of disapproval, but luckily, most complied. Eagerly, the women and few children traveled single file into the main cabin. The younger boy and a strong woman stayed behind and helped me lug Cyler’s limp body into the main cabin, getting blood everywhere.
I then went to the train’s central control panel and observed the different functions. After several minutes, I found the release mechanism for the last connected trolley and clicked to detach it. Our attackers must have used rudimentary bombs to remove the other cargo and passenger trolleys because it disconnected without a bang.
Next, I found the speed controls and watched as the control panel calculated the maximum speed we could travel with our allotted fuel. I was lucky this was one of the newer trains with a better system, otherwise I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get us safely to Dormas. By the computer’s new calculations, we’d arrive in two days. I just hoped Cyler would make it that long.
Through the night, I watched Cyler. I kept hard pressure on the wound in his leg and tried to decrease the bleeding as much as possible. Eventually, a seamstress from the Walker Zone came forward and offered to stitch Cyler up. It was a long shot, but we removed his pants, and I watched as she carefully sewed the three-inch-long gash back together. We disinfected his wound with alcohol but also kept some to give him for the occasional times he’d woken up in pain.
The train remained mostly quiet, aside from Cyler’s brief whimpers of pain. I could sense that the earlier excitement of leaving Galla was now entirely extinguished by the attack. The women and children were rightfully scared, but I felt too distraught over Cyler to even briefly remove my eyes from his weak frame, despite the overwhelming exhaustion that consumed me.
Each minute ticked by slowly. Whispers about Cyler’s condition annoyed me, and I kept wiping his brow to remove the sweat from his forehead. Eventually, he began to have uncontrollable tremors. The seamstress and I had to hold him down to keep him from re-opening his wound and tearing the amateur stitches.
Although I didn’t know Cyler well, it pained me to see him suffer. For reasons I didn’t understand, I ached to take his pain away, and I spent each moment comforting him. Despite his rough exterior, Cyler Black had become a friend, a friend that I wasn’t willing to give up on just yet.
The tremors came in waves, each one increasing in severity. I gripped Cyler's hand and whispered words of encouragement.
Finally, as the sun rose on the last day of our travels, Cyler’s fever spiked as we arrived at a beautiful village framed by trees and full of homes made of wood. There were dirt roads and a crowd—mostly men—eager to meet us. Some cheered, and some had curious expressions, but I stood on shaky knees, ready to announce that we needed help. Once the train came to a complete stop, I slammed the sliding door open and screamed for a doctor. My voice was hoarse and weak, but it was loud enough to gather the attention of our welcoming committee. Hot air hit my face, and immediately I was greeted with looks of shock and concern.
“It’s Cyler, quick, we need help! Hurry!”
Three men pushed their way through the crowd and boarded the train.
“What happened?” a red-headed man asked while feeling Cyler’s forehead and looking around the main cabin. “Are you hurt, too?” he asked.
I looked down at myself and saw that blood stains completely covered my dress and skin. The exhaustion, fear, and overall emotional turmoil of the past few days consumed me like a relentless fire. The last thing I saw was the red-headed man’s concerned expression before I welcomed the darkness. As it flooded my vision and relaxed my senses, I fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter Ten
The first thing I heard when waking up was the sound of Cyler’s angry voice.
“How long has she been asleep, are you sure you didn’t find anything wrong with her? Do we need to call a neighboring healer?” He spoke fast and choppy. His grave voice made my heart hurt, and for a moment, I almost forgot about all the events that led to that moment.
But, memories flooded me, and I realized that I wasn’t in my basement in the Stonewell home but somewhere Cyler was wounded. I shot up in bed and rubbed the sleep from my