“The flames were all around me,” she said. “My shoes melted crossing this big patch of burning flowers.”
Shay whistled. “Incredible.”
“That’s weird. The rangers usually keep an eye out for us,” David said.
“Well, I guess they missed me.” Tally decided not to go into the fact that she’d intentionally hidden her hoverboard. “Anyway, I was in the river, and I’d never even seen a helicopter—except for the day before—and this thing came thundering out of the smoke, driving the fire toward me. And of course I had no idea the rangers were the good guys. I thought they were Rusty pyromaniacs risen from the grave!”
Everyone laughed, and Tally felt herself enjoying the warmth of the group’s attention. It was like telling everyone at dorm about a really successful trick, but much better, because she really had survived a life-or-death situation. David and Shay were hanging on to every word. Tally was glad she hadn’t activated the pendant yet. She could hardly sit here enjoying the Smokies’ admiration if she’d just betrayed them all. She decided to wait until tonight, when she was alone, to do what she had to.
“That must have been creepy,” David said, his voice pulling her away from uncomfortable thoughts, “being alone in the orchids for all those days, just waiting.”
She shrugged. “I thought they were kind of pretty. I didn’t know about the whole superweed thing.”
David frowned at Shay. “Didn’t you tell her anything in your note?”
Shay flushed. “You told me not to write anything that would give the Smoke away, so I put it in code, sort of.”
“It sounds like your code almost got her killed,” David said, and Shay’s face fell. He turned to Tally. “Hardly anyone ever makes the trip alone. Not their first time out of the city.”
“I’d been out of the city before.” Tally put her arm around Shay’s shoulder comfortingly. “I was fine. It was just a bunch of pretty flowers to me, and I started with two weeks of food.”
“Why did you steal all SpagBol?” Croy asked. “You must love the stuff.” The others joined in his laughter.
Tally tried to smile. “I didn’t even notice when I pinched it. Three SpagBols a day for nine days. I could hardly stomach the stuff after day two, but you get so hungry.”
They nodded. They all knew about hard traveling, and hard work, too, apparently. Tally had already noticed how much everyone had consumed for lunch. Maybe Shay wasn’t so likely to get the not-eating disease. She had cleaned her heaping plate.
“Well, I’m glad you made it,” David said. He reached across and touched the scratches on Tally’s face softly. “Looks like you had more adventures than you’re telling us.”
Tally swallowed and shrugged, hoping she looked modest.
Shay smiled and hugged David. “I knew you’d think Tally was awesome.”
A bell rang across the grounds, and they hurried to finish their food.
“What’s that?” she asked.
David grinned. “That’s back to work.”
“You’re coming with us,” Shay said. “Don’t worry, it won’t kill you.”
On the way to work, Shay explained more about the long, flat roller coasters called railroads. Some stretched across the entire continent, one small part of the Rusty legacy still scarring the land. But unlike most ruins, the railroads were actually useful, and not just for hoverboarding. They were the main source of metal for the Smokies.
David had discovered a new railroad track a year or so earlier. It didn’t run anywhere useful, so he had drawn up a plan to plunder it for metal and build more hoverpaths in and around the valley. Shay had been working on the project since she’d come to the Smoke ten days before.
Six of them took their boards up and out the other side of the valley, down a stream churning with white water, and along a razor-sharp ridge filled with iron ore. From there, Tally finally understood how far up the mountain she’d come since leaving the coast. The whole continent seemed to be spread out before them. A thin bank of clouds below the ridge mirrored the heavier layer overhead, but forests, grasslands, and the shimmering arcs of rivers were visible through the misty veil. The sea of white orchids could still be glimpsed from this side of the mountain, glowing like an encroaching desert in the sun.
“Everything’s so big,” Tally murmured.
“That’s what you can never tell from inside,” Shay said. “How small the city is. How small they have to make everyone to keep them trapped there.”
Tally nodded, but she imagined all those people let loose in the countryside below, cutting down trees and killing things for food, crashing across the landscape like some risen Rusty machine.
Still, she wouldn’t have traded anything for this moment, standing there and looking down at the plains spread out below. Tally had spent the last four years staring at the skyline of New Pretty Town, thinking it was the most beautiful sight in the world, but she didn’t think so anymore.
Lower down and halfway around the mountain, another river crossed David’s railroad track. The route there from the Smoke twisted in all directions, taking advantage of veins of iron, rivers, and dry creek beds, but they’d never had to leave their boards. Walking wouldn’t be an option, Shay explained, when they came back loaded with heavy metal.
The track was overgrown with vines and stunted trees, every wooden cross-tie in the grip of a dozen tentacles of vegetation. The forest had been hacked away in patches surrounding a few missing segments of rail, but it held the rest firmly in its grasp.
“How are we going to get any of this out?” Tally asked. She kicked at a gnarled root, feeling puny against the strength of the wild.
“Watch this,” Shay said. She pulled a tool from her backpack, an arm-length pole that telescoped out almost to Tally’s height. Shay twisted one end, and four short struts unfolded from the other like the ribs of an umbrella. “It’s called a powerjack, and it can move just about anything.”
Shay twisted the handle again, and the ribs retracted. Then she thrust one end of the jack under a cross-tie. With another twist of her wrist, the pole began to shudder, and a groaning sound came from the wood. Shay’s feet slipped backward, but she leaned her weight into the pole, keeping it wedged under the cross-tie. Slowly, the ancient wood began to rise, tearing free from plants and earth, bending the rail that lay across it. Tally saw the struts of the powerjack unfolding underneath the tie, gradually forcing it up, the rail above beginning to pull free of its moorings.