Midnight City Read Free

crumpled where it had fallen and burned years ago. Looking at it from this distance, even in its destroyed state, it was very clear that it had never been anything of this Earth.
    It was an Assembly combat walker. One of the big ones from the looks of it, a Spider.
    Whoever was on the train that night, they managed to take one of those things with them. Judging by the skeletons tossed around the area, Holt doubted it was much of a consolation to them now. But it was something, nonetheless.…
    Holt hated places like this. They were scars. Scars on the planet’s surface, and the world was littered with them now. He hated them for the memories they brought back, the old images they forced him to see again.
    Images of her.
    If he didn’t have to be here, he wouldn’t. But he did.
    Max lay next to him on his back, blissfully chewing on a big bone that probably came from one of the unfortunates scattered about the battleground. As happy as the dog was, something about it just wasn’t right.
    “Max, come on.” Holt tried to pull the leg bone loose from the dog’s jaws, but Max scampered off before Holt could grab it.
    Holt shook his head, looked back to the tracks on the ground.
    They were everywhere, tracks from dozens of people, dating back years. Finding the specific ones he was looking for wasn’t impossible—there were ways to separate old tracks from new—it just took time. And a good eye. For instance, he could eliminate about half of them right away, based on their size. Most of them were too big. The one he was after had small feet and wasn’t wearing boots.
    It took him a moment, but he found the shoe prints he was looking for. After almost a week tracking them, he recognized them instantly. They moved off to the north, sidestepping the site altogether. They hadn’t even bothered searching the area for useful salvage. Holt didn’t blame the person: there likely wasn’t anything here worth risking tetanus for. Whatever used to be here of value was long gone now.
    From the far distance came an unsettling sound. A deep, concussive booming that echoed through the trees around him. Seconds later, two more booms, echoing and fading in the same way.
    Holt looked up. He knew what the sounds were. Explosions. Large ones. Probably two or three miles away, to the northeast.
    More sounds filtered through the trees, different from the first, more like staccato thunder.
    Plasma cannon, the big ones. The Assembly was nearby and they were riled up. But over what? Whatever it was, it was probably better not to get caught outside the tree line.
    Holt stood up to leave, and as he did, he noticed the train cars again. Two of the ones that were somehow still standing were only a few yards away. He frowned as he studied them—there was probably nothing worthwhile there … but you never knew. Even if there were no supplies, the metal itself could be valuable if it wasn’t rusted through.
    Survival factored into every decision Holt made. It was what he lived by, and it meant many things. One of them was to figure out what was of value. If you had things of value, you could survive.
    By Holt’s logic, survival said that he had to at least investigate the train cars.
    He moved for the closest one, its door yawning open. Max stepped into line next to him, the trophy bone still in his mouth.
    Holt peered inside the first train car. It was just as empty as he expected, nothing but rotting wood and rusting metal. He moved to the next one. Its big door was only open a crack, preventing him from seeing inside.
    Holt grabbed the edge of the door and pulled. It didn’t budge. He cursed under his breath, pulled again, harder this time. It slid a little, but not much. He yanked it hard over and over, trying to force it. Slowly, it began sliding open.
    From inside came a noise. It sounded like the shifting of someone moving. Below Holt, Max dropped the bone as his hackles raised. A low growl rumbled from his throat.
    Holt stepped back from