He was arguing with a portly man of similar height who stood in his way in the corridor. As Sophia and Theo watched, the argument grew louder, and they could hear it through the compartment’s thin door. “I reserved my room weeks ago,” the portly man protested, “and I don’t give a fig what the conductor promised you. The compartment is mine.”
The scarred man’s level response was inaudible.
“I certainly will not wait in New York for another train. The very idea! Do you think I don’t know the value of money? I paid a great deal for that compartment.”
The scarred man gave a short, quiet response.
For a moment his antagonist stared at him with growing indignation as his face grew red. “When we get to New York City, sir,” he said slowly, “I will summon the first police officer I see and report you. You are a danger to the other passengers on this train.” He turned on his heel and stormed off. The scarred man stared after him for a moment. Then he shot a malevolent glance into their compartment, making Sophia recoil against her seat, and walked away.
She sat for a moment in silence. “Definitely him. Was he one of the men from the house?”
Theo shook his head. “I don’t think so. Similar kind of scars. But his face is different.”
Perhaps it really is only a coincidence, she thought, but she could not entirely convince herself.
A few hours later, the train stopped in New York City. At first, it seemed only a busier version of the other stations. Police officers corralled the waiting passengers and herded them toward the trains; vendors with rolling carts squeezed between them. The platform was littered with loose sheets of newspaper. A tall clock with a broken second hand hung between two parallel rails. And then Sophia caught her breath. “Theo. Come and look.”
They watched in dismay as the man they’d seen arguing for his compartment was steered from the train by two men with scarred faces. Sophia gasped as they walked by. “Is that . . .” Her voice trailed off. She had seen the sharp glint of metal near the man’s ribs, and there was a look of suppressed terror on his face.
“They’ve got something on him. A blade or a revolver,” Theo said softly. He whistled. “They really wanted that compartment.”
Sophia watched in horror as the two led the man directly past a knot of police officers who were guiding passengers onto the train. One of the officers gave them a brief nod. “Did you see that? The police officer let them go by!”
Theo shook his head. “Guess what they say about the police here is true.”
“What should we do? Should we tell someone?”
“No way,” Theo said emphatically. “If the police wouldn’t help that guy, who would? Hey, just be glad they’re off the train.”
Sophia wrapped her arms around herself. “I am.”
—15-Hour 49: On the Train Heading South—
THE SEABOARD LIMITED left New York City near sixteen-hour. As night fell, Sophia finally unpacked a sandwich from the basket, forcing herself to swallow the bread and cheese. The porter came by to ensure they had bedding, and Theo climbed up into his bunk, asking Sophia for some of the maps to study. She eventually opened her own bunk and tried to read the atlas, but she could not get the terrified man on the platform out of her mind. Then her thoughts drifted to Shadrack, and her sense of anxiety grew even sharper. The ways of finding him had seemed fragile and uncertain in the daytime; at night, they seemed downright impossible. As she tried to read, she found she could not; her inner mind was trained on imagined horrors. Finally, with a sigh, she closed the atlas and held it tightly against her chest.
She awoke a little while later with her cheek pressed against the book. A nightmare she could not remember had made her heart race, and she stood up to look through the window. Theo leaned over the edge of his bunk. “Thought you’d gone to sleep,” he said quietly.
“I had. I’m not sleepy now.” She glanced at her watch; it was almost twenty-hour. Then she gazed at the full, pale moon that hung over the trees. “Do you know where we are?”
“No idea. The last few stations have been too dark to read the signs.”
Sophia rubbed her eyes. “I’m going to stretch my legs. We’ve been in here nearly the whole day.”
Theo sat up, bumping his head against the roof of the compartment. “Ow. I’ll come with you.”
“That’s fine.” Falling asleep full of worry and waking up in a strange place had dispelled her lingering resentment against Theo; she felt too tired, and there were too many other fears crowding the edges of her mind. She placed the atlas in her pack, shouldering it.
They passed the silent compartments on either side as they walked toward the dining car. Cool night air leaked into the passageways from the windows. No one else on the train seemed to be awake, and the dining car was completely deserted but for the faint scent of polished silver and boiled potatoes. The bright moonlight made flame-lamps unnecessary; the entire room, with its white tablecloths and brass-tacked leather seats, was bathed in silver.
“This is the longest I’ve ever been on a train,” Sophia said, taking a seat at one of the tables and looking out at the tracks.
Theo sat down across from her. “Me, too. Actually, it’s the first time I’ve been on a train.”
Sophia looked at him in surprise. “Really?”
“I’d seen trains, but never been inside one.” He smiled wryly. “First time in New Occident, too. And right when they decide to close the borders.”
Sophia smiled back. “You were too much for them. The last straw.”
“Must have been. Too hot to handle.” He snapped his fingers and pointed the imaginary gun at her, closing the gesture with a wink. For a few minutes both of them sat in silence, staring out at the moon and the dark outline of the trees. Then Theo said, “Nobody’s worried.”
Sophia looked at him. He was still staring out through the window. “What?” she asked.
“A few people know Ehrlach got me, but they’re not worried.”
“Why not?”
Theo gave another smile, but his dark eyes, trained on the moon, were serious. “Every man for himself, like I said. I don’t have parents—that I know of. I lived with raiders on the western border, and they don’t care much if I’m there or in the circus or in the snows. It’s all the same to them.”
In the pale light it was hard to see Theo’s expression, but to Sophia his face looked more thoughtful than sad. “What happened to your parents?”
“I don’t know. Never met them. From the earliest I remember, me and the other kids lived with one raider or another.”
Sophia could not even imagine it. “So who took care of you?”
“Older kids, mostly. An older girl was the one who found me. Sue. She found me in an empty barrel behind some watering hole.”
“What’s a watering hole?”
“A saloon. A tavern.” Theo turned and met her eyes. “She got me clothes. Gave me my name. Fed me for years. Then I just took care of myself. It’s easier that way. They come and go; so do I. No burdens, no worries.”
His brown eyes looked back at her directly, and she had the sense that her whole idea of who he was had suddenly shifted. What was it was like to be alone—truly alone? “Why didn’t you say so earlier? Like when Mrs. Clay asked you?”
Theo tossed his head. “People feel sorry for me when I tell them. Older people, especially. You know?”
Sophia did know. “So how did Ehrlach find you?”
“We were trading on the border—selling horses to a man from New Akan. Those border towns are full of people buying and selling everything. Ehrlach seemed like just one more dealer trying to get something cheap. He bought a horse from Aston—that’s the raider me and some other guys had been living with—and asked me to bring it into his tent. Aston said, go ahead, deliver it. Moment I got in the tent, he had men standing around me with long knives. I’ve had my share of one-sided knife fights,” he said, holding up his scarred right hand, “and I didn’t mind another. I tried to get on the horse and go, but they weren’t having it. We were gone before Aston ever missed me.” He gave a flat laugh. “Not that he missed me.”