Soldier paused for a moment, tilting his head back in disbelief as he stared upward. He had to convince himself that he was really seeing it.


These trains had once served as transportation for the people of the city, carrying noise, haste, and the monotone announcements of stations. People had ridden them to work, to school, to home. They had been the lifeblood of the city, pulsing with crowds.


But that world was gone.


Now the cars had become homes for a new kind of nomad. Those who understood that safety here meant staying off the streets and constantly on the move.

As they drew closer, Soldier saw figures moving along a suspended bridge that led to a pyramid of shipping containers. Masked figures, wearing gear much like Civilian’s, carried their entire worlds on their backs, along with whatever they had scavenged from the ruins of the city. They hauled it all toward the safety of the trains. On the roof of one car, blankets were drying in the fading sun. In another window, a lantern flickered. Ropes stretched between old cars, swaying with bundles of supplies and makeshift luggage.


A whole colony on rails.


Soldier couldn’t decide if it was brilliant...or insane.


“They figured it out,” Civilian noted, glancing at him with a smirk as he picked up the pace.

“They’re high up and always moving.”


Soldier looked back one last time. The sun was nearly gone. Shadows were stretching long, and with them came an uneasy tension.


They had to hurry if they wanted to make it before dark.


“Hope you brought something to pay with,” Civilian said casually, not slowing down.


Soldier flinched. “I don’t have money.”


Civilian turned with a teasing look. “Nobody wants that here.”

“So what exactly do they want?”


“Me? They let me stay ‘cause they know my face.

But you? You’ll need to give ‘em something.”


“Like what?”


“Batteries,” Civilian offered, offhanded.

“Those always work.”


Soldier stopped for a second. Batteries. Such a basic item. Back then, you could find them in any store, hanging near the register for pocket change. But here, now, after all these years… they must’ve become a rare and precious commodity. Something everyone knew would run out one day. Maybe even more valuable than gold.


“Well… I’ve got some,” he admitted cautiously.


Civilian grinned. “Perfect. That’ll get you a bed and a warm meal.”


Laughter drifted on the wind. Somewhere above, someone spun a wheel tied to a beam, at the end of it, a handmade windmill spun freely. Someone here had still found a way to laugh. To live.


Soldier froze. That laughter didn’t fit. It felt out of place in a world like this.


Civilian noticed.

“Coming?” he asked, a bit impatient. There really wasn’t time to hesitate.


Soldier stood there a moment longer, watching the roaming civilization in motion. It was another world.


Then, finally, he nodded.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”