Page 18 of One-Track Pride

"I fixed a radio and yelled at him about martyrdom. Standard service."

"Is that what the kids call it now?"

"Tobias."

"Right, right." He's laughing under his breath, and I decide I like him. We work in tandem after that, and it's fast, easy, the same rhythm I usually only find alone. He hands me components before I ask. I splice where he can't reach, and within twenty minutes we've bridged the dead board to the backup cell, and I hold my breath as I throw the switch.

The radio hums, and a green light, weak but steady, blinks awake.

"That's power," I breathe. "Toby, that's power."

"Told you. Lineman." He’s pleased as anything, just as Evander comes back with an armful of emergency rations and a lantern that actually works.

"You got it running," Evander says, and the pride in his voice is so plain I have to look away and pretend to adjust the frequency. "Hi, Tobias. I hope you didn’t scare her."

"Never."

I raise Stonehaven on the third try. Static, then a voice, then Owen Beckett's careful drawl crackling through the little speaker like a lifeline. I give him our position, the passenger count, the medical situation. Then I brace for whatI don't want to hear.

"When can rescue reach the wreck?" I ask.

The pause stretches too long. "Not soon, Ms. Dyer." Owen sounds like he's chewing gravel. "Avalanche danger's got the whole pass locked. State won't authorize teams in until the snowpack stabilizes, and the forecast says that's hours out, minimum. A couple of days if we're lucky. Tonight if we're not." A crackle. "You're going to have to hold those people together on your own a while yet."

Evander clenches his jaw, but he doesn't argue. He's learning, I key the mic. "Understood. We'll manage. But Owen, there's something else, and I need you to write it down exactly."

"Go ahead."

"I need to know who's already talking about this derailment on the outside. Who moved first."

Another pause, and when Owen comes back his voice has changed, sharpened into the tone I imagine he uses right before he arrests someone. "Funny you ask. There's already noise, company called Northstar Meridian put out a statement two hours ago. Calling the derailment proof the northern line's a death trap, saying it needs permanent closure before it kills anyone else."

The wrench goes still in my hand. Beside me, Tobias stops smiling.

"Two hours ago," I repeat. "Owen, say that back to me. Two hours."

"That's what I've got."

"That's not possible." I'm on my feet now, pacing the tiny room, the pieces slamming together too fast to sit still for. "Nobody has been to the wreck, no investigator, no engineer, nobody. There is no report. There is no cause of record, you cannot look at a derailment a couple hours old, in a whiteout, from miles away, and declare the infrastructure unsafe. Not honestly, not unless…"

"Unless you already knew what was going to happen," Evander finishes. His voice gone quiet and dangerous.

"Unless you wrote the press release before the train left the station." I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. "They had the statement drafted, they were waiting on the derailment like a cue. God, the arrogance of it."

Owen's voice crackles back. "There's more, and you're not gonna like it. Northstar's offering to buy up sections of the rail corridor and a stack of distressed property along it. Their pitch is that if the government closes the line, they'll take the worthless land off everybody's hands. Real generous, considering."

"Considering they're the reason it's about to become worthless." I stop pacing. My hands have stopped shaking, which is what happens to me when fear finally burns off and leaves nothing but the work. "Owen, I need a favor, and it's a big one. I need you to start pulling ownership records. Every parcel Northstar's bought or bid on in the last eighteen months. Plot them, I want to see the shape of what they're assembling."

"That's a lot of courthouse hours."

"It's a homicide investigation with thirty-one witnesses freezing on a mountain. Spend the hours." I soften it. "Please, I'll hand you the physical evidence the second the pass opens. I've got sabotaged components bagged and photographed. But I can't prove motive from up here, and motive is written in those deeds."

"I'll start now," Owen says. "You keep those people alive."

"That's the plan."

I sign off, and the little green light keeps blinking, and nobody in the bunker says anything. Then Tobias lets out a long breath.

"So somebody blew up a train to make a real-estate deal look reasonable," he says. "That's… I don't even have a joke for that. That's just evil."