“I didn’t know these things weighed so much.”
“Yeah, this is what a board weighs when it’s not hovering. Out here, you find out that the city fools you about how things really work.”
The sky was getting cloudier, and in the darkness the cold seemed more intense. Tally hoisted the board up to get a better grip, wondering if it was going to rain. She was already wet enough from the rapids. “I kind of like being fooled about some things.”
After a long scramble through the rocks, Shay broke the silence. “This way. There’s a natural vein of iron underground. You can feel it in your crash bracelets.”
Tally held out one hand and frowned, unconvinced. But after another minute she felt a faint tugging in her bracelet, like a ghost pulling her forward. Her board started to lighten, and soon she and Shay had hopped on again, coasting over a ridge and down into a dark valley.
Onboard, Tally found the breath to ask a question that had been bugging her. “So if hoverboards need metal, how do they work on the river?”
“Panning for gold.”
“What?”
“Rivers come from springs, which come from inside mountains. The water brings up minerals from inside the earth. So there’s always metals at the bottom of rivers.”
“Right. Like when people used to pan for gold?”
“Yeah, exactly. But, actually, boards prefer iron. All that glitters is not hovery.”
Tally frowned. Shay sometimes talked in a mysterious way, like she was quoting the lyrics of some band no one else listened to.
She almost asked, but Shay came to a sudden halt and pointed downward.
The clouds were breaking, and moonlight shot through them to fall across the floor of the valley. Hulking towers rose up, casting jagged shadows, their human-made shapes obvious against the plain of treetops rippling in the wind.
The Rusty Ruins.
The Rusty Ruins
A few blank windows stared down on them in silence from the husks of the giant buildings. Any glass had long since shattered, any wood had rotted, and nothing remained but metal frames, mortar, and stone crumbling in the grip of invading vegetation. Looking down at the black, empty doorways, Tally’s skin crawled with the thought of descending to peer into one.
The two friends slid between the ruined buildings, riding high and silent as if not to disturb the ghosts of the dead city. Below them the streets were full of burned-out cars squeezed together between the looming walls. Whatever had destroyed this city, the people had tried to escape it. Tally remembered from her last school trip to the ruins that their cars couldn’t hover. They just rolled along on rubber wheels. The Rusties had been stuck down in these streets like a horde of rats trapped in a burning maze.
“Uh, Shay, you’re pretty sure our boards aren’t suddenly going to conk out, right?” she called softly.
“Don’t worry. Whoever built this city loved to waste metal. They aren’t called the Rusty Ruins because some guy called Rusty discovered them.”
Tally had to agree. Every building sported jagged spurs of metal sticking from its broken walls, like bones jutting from a long-dead animal. She remembered that the Rusties didn’t use hoverstruts; every building was squat, crude, and massive, and needed a steel skeleton to keep it from falling down.
And some of them were so huge. The Rusties didn’t put their factories underground, and they all worked together like bees in a hive instead of at home. The smallest ruin here was bigger than the biggest dorm in Uglyville, bigger even than Garbo Mansion.
Seeing them now, at night, the ruins felt much more real to Tally. On school trips, the teachers always made the Rusties out to be so stupid. You almost couldn’t believe people lived like this, burning trees to clear land, burning oil for heat and power, setting the atmosphere on fire with their weapons. But in the moonlight she could imagine people scrambling over flaming cars to escape the crumbling city, panicking in their flight from this untenable pile of metal and stone.
Shay’s voice pulled Tally from her reverie. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
Shay cruised to the edge of the buildings, then out over the trees.
“Are you sure we can—”
“Look down.”
Below, Tally saw metal glinting through the trees.
“The ruins are much bigger than they let on,” Shay said. “They just keep that part of the city standing for school trips and museum stuff. But it goes on forever.”
“With lots of metal?”
“Yeah. Tons. Don’t worry, I’ve flown all over the place.”
Tally swallowed, keeping an eye out for signs of ruin below, glad that Shay was moving at a nice, slow speed.
A shape emerged from the forest, a long spine that rose and fell like a frozen wave. It led away from them, off into the darkness.
“Here it is.”
“Okay, but what is it?” Tally asked.
“It’s called a roller coaster. Remember, I told you I’d show you one.”
“It’s pretty. But what’s it for?”
“For having fun.”
“No way.”
“Yeah, way. Apparently, the Rusties did have some fun. It’s like a track. They would stick ground cars to it and go as fast as they could. Up, down, around in circles. Like hoverboarding, without hovering. And they made it out of some really unrusty kind of steel—for safety, I guess.”
Tally frowned. She’d only imagined the Rusties working in the giant stone hives and struggling to escape on that last, horrible day. Not having fun.
“Let’s do it,” Shay said. “Let’s roller coaster.”
“How?”
“On your board.” Shay turned to Tally and said seriously, “But you’ve got to go fast. It’s dangerous unless you’re really moving.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
Shay turned away and sped down the roller coaster, flying just above the track. Tally sighed and leaned hard after her. At least the thing was metal.
It also turned out to be a great ride. It was like a hoverboard course made solid, complete with tight, banked turns, sharp climbs followed by long drops, even loops that took Tally upside down, her crash bracelets activating to keep her on board. It was amazing what good shape it was in. The Rusties must have built it out of something special, just as Shay had said.
The track went much higher than a hoverboard could go on its own. On the roller coaster, hoverboarding really was like being a bird.