The train smelled like rust and sweat.

The train rattled and groaned, the metal screeching like it was protesting every mile. It felt more like a coffin on wheels than real transport, but out here, it was the best you could get.

Most wastelanders didn’t have the luxury of anything faster. The roads were mostly dust and broken asphalt, leading nowhere. Even if someone managed to get a car running, good luck finding fuel that wasn’t worth more than your life.

Golden Land had cars. Real ones. Clean ones. The kind that could take you across the country in hours instead of days. But that was for them—never for us.

So we took the train. Or we walked.

And right now, the train was packed.

Traders, scavengers, gang runners, wastelanders just looking to disappear somewhere else. People who didn’t ask questions. The kind of people I grew up around.

Lilith, though—she stuck out like a sore thumb.

She was stiff, standing close beside me, her eyes flicking over the people around us like she was waiting for something to happen.

I leaned in. “You ever been on one of these?”

She hesitated. “No.”

I smirked. “Figures.”

Her eyes cut to me. “Is that a problem?”

“Nope,” I said, shifting my stance. “Just means you don’t know how to handle yourself.”

She rolled her eyes, but I caught the way her fingers twitched—like she was resisting the urge to cross her arms or fidget. She was uncomfortable. Good. She should be.

The train lurched forward, nearly throwing her off balance. She grabbed the metal pole beside her, knuckles turning white.

I chuckled under my breath. “Yeah, you’re gonna love this trip.”

She shot me a glare but didn’t let go of the pole.

The train kept rattling along, the low hum of voices around us blending into the noise of the tracks. I kept my hood up, head low, but I felt eyes on us.

One guy across from us—scarred face, missing teeth. He was watching too closely.

Lilith hadn’t noticed. Yet.

I shifted slightly. “Don’t look now, but we’ve got a problem.”

Her shoulders tensed. “What kind of problem?”

“The kind that wants to see how much trouble we’re worth.”

She was silent for a second, then, slowly, her fingers brushed against her belt. Probably a knife.

I almost laughed. Cute. Like she’d even get the chance to use it.

“Relax, there are too many people here.” I muttered. “Just follow my lead.”

She turned her head slightly toward me, voice lower. “And what’s the plan?”

I met her eyes and smirked. “We make him think we’re worse trouble than he is.”

Before she could respond, I moved.

I turned just enough to look at Scarface. Let him catch my eye. Held his gaze. Didn’t blink.

A few seconds passed. Then I smiled.

Not friendly. Not nice.

A smile that said, Try it.

His expression flickered. He looked at me, then at Lilith, then at the way I hadn’t moved even though I knew he was watching.

Then, slowly, he looked away.

Lilith let out a breath.

I grinned. “See? Easy.”

She shot me a look. “Yeah. Real easy.”

I could still feel her tension. Still see the way her hand hovered near her belt, even though the danger had passed.

She wasn’t used to this.

I turned back toward the window, watching the wasteland roll by—endless and empty. We still had a long way to go.

The train rumbled beneath us, a shaky, uneven rhythm. The air was thick—too many people, too much sweat, too many eyes that lingered too long.

Lilith sat close but not touching, her arms crossed, her jaw tight. She looked out the window like she could see something past the endless stretch of ruin. Like she was still figuring out what the hell she’d just signed up for.

But she was here.

And for some reason, that mattered more than I wanted it to.