Midnight came and went, and the Cedar Hill station rapidly approached. The Eastbound had managed to make it nearly four hundred miles since I first boarded at four in the afternoon, despite multiple stops. The ticket master stopped by to remind me that my ticket expired, and I knew he would be paying attention to make sure I got off when I was supposed to.
I looked past my own reflection in the window to try and find the lights of Cedar Hill up ahead. They twinkled at the base of the rough, craggy mountains that looked purple in the ghostly light of the moon. Dark shapes sprang up across the valleys between the rocky ridges, and it took me a moment to realize they were trees. So many trees, growing right up out of the ground without any sort of prompting. I knew such things existed but it had seemed so ludicrous before.
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I still hadn't slept, but now wasn't the time. I checked my backpack to make sure it was zipped up and hefted my water jug, double-checking it was still mostly full. Nobody had stolen any when I slipped off to use the bathroom. In fact, most folks here didn't seem to consider water a precious resource the way I did.
The Cedar Hill station loomed ahead, with tall brick arches lit by warm lamplight, and a few figures waiting to board near the edge of the platform. I drew the hood of my loose sweatshirt over my hair and leaned forward to slip the straps of my backpack over my shoulders, getting ready to disembark. Another clump of hair fluttered down to tickle the back of my neck, and I reached back to fish around and grab it, pulling it out and stuffing it in my pocket to join the other clumps gathering there. At this rate I would be bald by morning.
With another loud whistle and an exhale of smoke, the train rolled to a stop and the conductor sang out, "Cedar Hill station! Last stop until the Lake of the Dead!"
Good thing my ticket expired near Cedar Hill and not wherever the ominous-sounding Lake of the Dead was. Pushing to my feet, my right leg nearly collapsed under me and I steadied myself as best I could with the dizzy feeling in my head. I had to move that pharmacy visit up the priority list. Hoisting my heavy jug in my left hand, I heaved it over the sleeping body of my seat neighbor, then lugged my tired body down the corridor to the exit. Not many others were disembarking at Cedar Hill, perhaps because it was the middle of the night and they preferred to sleep than stretch their legs here. I trailed after one other man carrying a small child drooping their head onto his shoulder, and I watched the sleepy kid, thinking of Kit. My youngest sister would have had her thumb stuffed into her mouth though, a habit Mama Ellie always tried to break but never could.
When I stepped out of the train I was halted by the cool breeze washing over my skin. I paused, closed my eyes and breathed it in just for a moment. The air really did smell different. Piney, fresh, somehow full of promise. Red Valley was blistering hot by day, frigid and cold by night, always arid, but here it was perfectly temperate, an ideal temperature to cool my flushed, sunburned cheeks without making me shiver in my stretch cotton sweatsuit.
One lone booth stood back from the edge of the platform, and I made my way past the sparse crowd to approach the sleepy ticket seller within. They were young, with their chin propped on their palm, eyes drooping half closed, and their stiff blue Monarch uniform had a pin on the lapel that said 'Graycen' in bold, and below the name, 'they/them.'
I tapped on the glass separating us and they startled upright, almost falling over before catching themselves and adjusting glasses perched on the tip of their nose.
