When the sun begins to warm the eastern horizon, I'm there to meet it. The others stir, Chime shouting something from further ahead where I sit, as I had before, in the open door of the second last car. Sleep eludes me still, though I don't feel worse for my lack of it. Expectant, yes. A thrill of excitement probably left over from my exposure to Ande still pumps through my blood and warms my heart.
But most importantly, there's hope.
This just might work.
I rise and stretch, the dog yawning beside me, haunches in the air as he does his own morning extensions. Sunlight backs the barrier, rising on the other side, still bathing the train and everything on this side of the barricade in shadow. Four kids hop down as hissing sounds rise from the locomotive, steam mixed with thick black smok
