They knew exactly what I looked like now. It wasn’t some aged pic from when I was a baby anymore. They might not know who or what I was exactly, but they’d be able to find me so much easier. STPF could back up the recording from the city surveillance system until they saw me leaving the diner, and then follow me from there. Satellites would support the cams in blackout spots. Probes would track our various possible routes. Eventually, they would see everything. The depot didn’t have surveillance, but they’d see where we fell off the map and be looking to see when we reappeared around the dead zone. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out where I’d gone.

My only hope was that if SpaceTech could find me, so could Declan. If I managed to stay out of SpaceTech’s grasp long enough for Declan to get to me first, I still might have a chance of getting out of this alive.

Roan finally turned the Tykson down the deserted road to the depot. Dirt and rocks had scattered over the pavement. The airstream from the bike kicked up a layer of dust and sand, coating my legs in it. I tightened my arms as we jolted over rocks and headed toward the gates. They used to be electrified, but since no one came out here, SpaceTech didn’t bother. Tall lights rose above the tracks, but they were turned off. Even if the sun wasn’t high in the sky, the lights here never turned on.

As we got closer, I noticed a break in the fence big enough for the Tykson, and I pointed to it. “That way.”

Roan went off the road and entered the depot. Bones and half-decayed clothes littered the ground. I winced at the crunch of Aunare bones breaking under the Tykson. Roan weaved through a few trains before jerking to a stop. I swung off and shoved my helmet at him.

No sounds. No people. No surveillance. Just us.

“Fuck!” I screamed until my lungs were empty. I picked up a rock and chucked it as hard as I could. It thunked against one of the train cars, but it wasn’t enough to curb my panic.

It wasn’t nearly enough.

I kicked the nearest train. Pain ricocheted up my leg. I was still wearing my work shoes—soft-toed pieces of crap. I limped away from the train, cleared a spot free of stray bones, and sat down in the middle of it to rub my toes through my shoe.

“You done?” Roan asked.

I grunted. “I don’t know.” I flopped onto my back. “I really messed up this time.” Tears threatened to fall, but I blinked them away. I couldn’t crumble. Not yet.