Arena Three

The tracks aren’t on the ancient map, so General Reece leans forward and draws a straight red line from Toledo to Chicago, then all the way down to Houston, Texas.

“This is your first main danger point,” she says, tapping Chicago. She runs her finger down to St. Louis, Missouri. “This is your second one.”

“Why?” Zeke asks.

“They’re both major cities and the tracks run straight through them,” the Commander explains. “And where there are cities, there are arenas.”

I shudder at the thought.

“So we go around them,” I say. “Adds a day or two to the journey, but it’s not worth the risk.”

General Reece frowns. “You can’t go around them,” she states, blandly. “You’ll be on a train.”

I pause and draw my eyebrows together. “We will?”

“Well yes, of course,” she replies. She taps Toledo again. “The train station is relatively new. It operated throughout most of the war. The chances of it still being operable are highly likely. Especially since all you need is coal. You’ll just need to find an engine still on the tracks, fire up the coal, and you’ll be away.”

Molly lets out a little squeak of surprise. I shake my head, unable to comprehend.

“I’m sorry, you want me to drive a train?” I stammer.

“A coal-powered train,” General Reece says with a nod, as if that makes any difference.

I take a seat as I try to catch my breath, completely stunned by the enormity of the journey ahead of me. This journey is going to take me entirely out of my comfort zone.

The Commander looks at me curiously. “If you don’t think you can handle it, Brooke,” he says, “maybe it would be best not to go at all. You’ve made a decent life for yourself here. There’s a group about to head out looking for survivors to start their own colony. You could always go with them. Take your sister. Your friends.”

I shake my head, determined. “No,” I say, forcefully. “I can do this.”

“You can,” Molly agrees.

“We can,” Ryan adds.

I look up at my friends’ faces. They all seem to have so much faith in me, so much belief. They’re willing to leave their home to help me follow my dream.

“Any of you guys ever driven a train before?” I ask.

Everyone breaks into a smile.

* * *

My arms ache as I heave the last of the supplies into the thirty-foot sailboat, making it rock on the banks of the river. We have a huge stash of weapons; plenty of dried food provisions like cured meat and pickled vegetables; changes of clothes; and a medical kit containing slings, bandages, and antibiotics in case of emergencies.

I then reach over and begin loading the thirty-gallon drums of fuel, knowing how precious each one is as General Reece hands them to me.

“We can only spare four,” she explains, as I load the last one. “You’ll need to sail as much as you can. Use the fuel sparingly, only if you’re in trouble or in bad weather. That engine is really meant for backup, anyway. Remember, this is primarily a sailboat, not a yacht.”

I nod, taking it all in. The Commander’s map is safely stashed in my pocket. Of all the items on board the boat, it is by far the most precious. Without the map, we’ll just be four people wandering through America.

Jack jumps excitedly into the boat, kissing me first, as he always does, and I feel reassured to have the pit bull with us.

Four people and a dog, I think to myself.

“You ready for this?” Molly asks, coming up to my side.

Her question makes me aware of the flutter of panic in my chest. “I guess,” I reply. Then I look at her and frown. “Why did you decide to come with me?”

The corners of her lips turn up. “You might be the best shooter in Fort Noix, but you’re not going to get very far without the second best watching your back.”

She says it in her usual dry way. But I read between the lines of her sarcasm. She’s coming because I’m her friend and she wants to help me. The thought is beyond comforting.

Jack starts barking at something in the distance, and I look over to see figures approaching.

“Looks like our farewell party has arrived,” Ryan says.

A group of guards comes up to Ryan, clapping him on the shoulder and embracing him. There are people there for Molly and Zeke as well. My stomach drops at the realization that no one has come to say goodbye to me. A part of me understands Ben not being here. His PTSD has driven a wedge between us and we’ve grown apart over the last six months. And Charlie, of course, won’t be here unless Bree is. But it’s Bree’s absence that hurts me the most. I know she’s mad at me but I wish she would at least come to say goodbye. It reminds me, painfully, of the way I let my dad walk out of my life all those years ago. I’d refused to say goodbye to him because I’d seen him hit my mom and was mad about him leaving us for the army. In my darker moments, that memory has haunted me.

As I’m dwelling in my emotions, I suddenly catch sight of a figure standing a little way behind the others. It’s Ben.