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Wild Steam
Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The day passed quickly, and by sundown we had a small wagon full of salvaged goods, and were on our way down the tracks to the next town. We’d salvaged plenty of top shelf booze, tobacco, coffee, some fine tea sets from Albion, several spare rifles and pistols of good quality, and even some bags of golden eagle coins from the local bank. The Furwraiths had ransacked the place, but they’d left piles of money; metal and paper, lying around.

So we’d, of course, helped salvage some of it for ourselves.

Same for the fine drink, herbs, clothing and equipment.

We’d taken a little of everything, but towards the end of the day and the setting sun, we’d both been getting nervous, and had loaded up the wagon in a increasing hurry. True to her word, Halona had been happy to be hitched up to the wagon and to pull it along behind her down the open prairie next to the tracks. No driver required. I’d put some small bags on her as well, and she was carrying food, money, and even some pistols.

Travel companions need to be to be armed, after all.

My own saddlebags were stuffed full as well, and I now had two Molt Peace-Bringer pistols instead of one, and lots of ammo to go with them.

I’d gotten a map from the train station, though the station itself, and the train that had pulled into it early in the morning, were both a wrecked mess, and we were on our way to Twin Creeks. A trading town where people went to purchase supplies for the big jump into the Frontier. Unfortunately, it was a while down the track.

Neither of us were worried, as the general eastern direction of the track put us in prairie, far from the nearby forest that had now been filled with man-wolves.

We chatted off and on as we walked the track. It was still a strange sight to see a wagon being pulled by a woman centaur, with no rider in the bench, but I got used to it. I also found that she was very good company. When we reached the first train rest stop, which was just some benches and a large water tower, we stopped to camp for the night.

I decided to teach Halona how to shoot, if only to pass the time, and to make the two pistols I’d buckled around her waist worth the effort of hauling them around.

She was a bit skittish at first, but we had time, and she was motivated.

“I was taught to handle a spear for battle.” She confessed as she reloaded the pistol again, carefully working the the cylinder loader so she didn’t drop anything. It was a long way down for her, after all. “Rifles, bows and the like were for the men. But since I am a centaur, able to join them in battle and carry a warrior, they grudgingly taught me to use the spear.”

“Wise of them.” I chuckled as she finished reloading, carefully cocked it, and went back to aiming and shooting at the cans and rocks I’d set up on the fence around the water tower. “Or just practical. Were you any good with it?”

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“I became quite proficient.” She answered proudly as she aimed and fired over and over again until the gun was empty. She mostly hit her targets, but she was getting better. A few more nights, she’d be able to hit her target at close range. A few more weeks, and she’d be solid with it at any rage.

“You know your way around a knife?” I asked, curious as she began reloading to shoot again.

“All tribesmen and women know their way around a knife.” She answered with a shrug, before loading and firing again.

“Well, when we get to Twin Creeks we’ll have to get you some steel, not just irons.” I nodded to myself as I showed her better ways to grip her pistol for aiming.

“Steel? Iron?” She asked, confused.

“Among us Unionists, steel is sometimes used to refer to bladed weapons, while iron or irons is used to refer to firearms.” I explained with a shrug. “It mostly depends on the context the word is being used with.”

“Ah, I see.” She nodded sagely, before turning to shoot the few remaining targets. “What shall we do when we reach the Far East of this land, Master Ranger?”

I sighed in exasperation at her use of that title. At this point I knew she was doing it because she found it amusing to do so, as much as she claimed it was for habit.

“I don’t know.” I admitted. “Buy a ticket on a ship and travel to the Old World?”

“That sounds like fun.” She replied brightly.

“We’ll work on it when we get there.” I insisted, not really interested in long off plans or ideas.

My father had a saying about plans like that.

‘If you want to make God laugh, you tell him; you have a plan.’ He used to say that whenever I or my siblings would tell him all about our little dreams, ambitions, or big plans. The war years and locust plagues had taught us all to have more respect for practical preparations than far off goals we had no idea how to achieve.

After shooting practice, I showed her how to properly clean and care for her weapon. Then it was a simple campfire meal, followed by some sleep. The next morning came and we set off, simple as can be.

Though I did find it odd that there was no train running on these tracks. Not even anyone to see where the train at Sugar Leaf had got too. I suddenly felt very concerned about our reception at Twin Creeks.

Especially with a wagon full of loot. Salvage, which by law it was, but everyone who didn’t like that, or me, would just call it loot, and make me out to be some wild savage-slaver-outlaw.

So of course the only sensible thing to do would be to immediately lock me up, confiscate everything I have, auction it off, and then maybe let me go.

Trial or proof or an actual crime not required.

I sighed as we plodded along the tracks. People could make amazing things, and could be the grandest thing ever. But they could also be selfish, petty, royal bastards just for the fun of it. I sincerely hoped we got more of the former, and less of the latter at Twin Creeks.

We spent that day plodding along, occasionally resting, shooting, and more plodding. We passed two more water towers before reaching another one at the end of the day. Trains may make things nice and connected and quick, but on foot, it was still a long way to anywhere in the frontier.

The night passed much as the last one had, and when morning came, we set off again after a simple breakfast.

Still no one from Twin Creeks or the railroad.

Finally, the town slowly came to be in sight, and I sighed. All of the enticing amenities and opportunities of the town aside, reaching them meant one other thing I would now have to endure. People.

I’d never really enjoyed it, and less now since the war thanks to that damn woman journalist and her sister, little miss would-be writer. I just hoped no one recognized my name. It had been awhile after all.

Still, no dallying. We had a train to catch.