Chapter 8 – After the Train
The medical area at the station was smaller than the one back at the bridge, just three canvas tents pitched between two brick warehouses, a few lanterns throwing warm circles on the concrete floor. The air was cooler here, the smell of smoke less thick, and for the first time since the rift opened I could hear my own breathing without gunfire in the background.
I helped Ilin to a cot in the corner. She sat down slowly, her arm wrapped in the cloth I'd tied earlier, her face pale, her eyes heavy. I could see the exhaustion in the set of her shoulders, the way her fingers trembled slightly when she set her staff against the cot frame.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," I said, sitting on the edge of the cot next to hers.
"I know," she said. "But I can't just sit while everyone else is fighting."
"You can," I said. "You have to."
She looked at me, eyes tired but stubborn. "I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt and me not being there."
"I'd rather you be alive and angry at me than hurt because you tried to do too much," I said.
She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. I'll rest."
I reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. "Good."
Garrick, Mara, and Finn found cots nearby. Garrick lay down with a grunt, pressing a hand to his side where the claw had raked him. Mara sat on her cot and began cleaning blood off her pipe with a rag, her movements methodical, almost ritual. Finn sat on the floor, leaning against his cot, eyes half-closed, his rifle across his knees.
A healer came by, a woman with tired eyes and sleeves rolled to her elbows. She checked Ilin's arm, pressed two fingers to her wrist, and nodded. "You're at your limit. No healing for at least six hours. If you use the staff again before then, you'll collapse."
Ilin nodded. "Understood."
The healer moved on to Garrick, checking his side, changing the bandage.
Ilin leaned her head on my shoulder. "I'm tired."
"I know," I said, putting my arm around her, careful not to press on her injured arm.
We sat like that for a while, listening to the low murmur of the camp — healers talking quietly, the occasional moan from a wounded soldier, the distant rumble of the rift.
After a few minutes, Ilin said, "Tell me something normal. Anything."
I thought for a second. "When I was a kid, I used to climb the water tower at the factory. From the top you could see the whole city, all the lights at night. It looked peaceful."
"What did you do up there?" she asked.
"Just sat," I said. "Sometimes I'd bring bread and cheese and eat up there. It was the only place where nobody could tell me what to do."
"That sounds nice," she said.
"It was," I said.
She smiled faintly. "When this is over, I want to see that view with you."
"You will," I said.
She was quiet for a moment, then said, "Tell me about your family."
"There's not much to tell," I said. "My parents died when I was seventeen. Accident at the factory. I've been on my own since then. Worked at the factory until the rift opened."
"I'm sorry," she said.
"It's okay," I said. "What about you?"
"My parents are both healers," she said. "My mother taught me everything I know. My father died three years ago during an outbreak in the north district. He was treating people when the building collapsed."
"I'm sorry," I said.
She nodded. "That's why I became a healer. I wanted to save people the way my mother saved him back then."
"You're good at it," I said.
"Not good enough tonight," she said quietly.
"You saved me," I said. "You saved a lot of people."
She didn't answer.
I stroked her hair. "You're enough."
She closed her eyes. "Stay with me."
"I'm not going anywhere," I said.
We sat in silence for a while.
A soldier came to the entrance of the medical area and called, "Squad 9, status report."
I stood up. "We're here."
He looked at Ilin. "Is she fit?"
"She needs more rest," I said.
The soldier nodded. "Squad 9 is off duty for the next six hours. Get some sleep. You'll be needed again."
"Understood," I said.
The soldier left.
I sat back down on Ilin's cot.
"You heard him," I said. "Six hours."
"Then you should sleep too," she said.
"I will," I said. "After you're asleep."
She smiled. "You're impossible."
"You love it," I said.
She laughed, a soft, tired laugh.
I lay down on the cot beside her, on my side facing her. She turned onto her side to face me.
We were close enough that I could feel her breath.
"I'm glad it's you," she said quietly.
"Me too," I said.
She reached out and brushed her fingers across my cheek.
"I'm glad it's you," she repeated.
I leaned in and kissed her, slow and gentle.
When we pulled back, she rested her forehead against mine.
"Sleep," I said.
"Okay," she said.
We closed our eyes.
I didn't know how long we slept. The sounds of the camp faded, and for a while there was only the rhythm of our breathing, the warmth of her hand in mine.
When I woke, Ilin was still asleep, her head on my arm. The lanterns had been dimmed. The camp was quiet.
I didn't move. I just stayed there, holding her, listening to her breathe.
Outside, the rift still glowed violet in the sky, and the war wasn't over.
But in that moment, in the quiet after the train, it felt like it was just the two of us, and that was enough.
A while later Ilin stirred, her fingers tightening around mine.
"You're still here," she murmured, eyes still closed.
"Yeah," I said.
She opened her eyes and looked at me. "You didn't leave."
"I told you I wouldn't," I said.
She smiled. "You keep your promises."
"I try to," I said.
She shifted, moving closer so her head rested on my chest. I wrapped my arm around her, careful not to press on her injured arm.
"You should sleep more," she said.
"I will," I said. "After you're asleep."
She laughed softly. "You're impossible."
"You love it," I said.
"I do," she said.
We stayed like that, the noise of the camp fading into the background, the two of us existing in a small quiet pocket while the world burned around us.
Ilin's breathing slowed again. I could feel the rise and fall of her chest against me.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"I'm glad it's you," she whispered.
"Me too," I said.
After a while, Ilin said, "When this is over, I want to find a quiet place. No fighting. No rift. Just… a quiet place."
"I want that too," I said.
"And I want to actually eat something that isn't a ration bar," she added, and I laughed.
"Me too," I said.
She squeezed my hand. "And I want to see you smile without blood on your face."
I smiled. "You'll see it."
She smiled back.
A healer walked past our cots, checking on the other wounded. I could hear her murmuring reassurances, adjusting bandages, handing out cups of water.
Ilin watched her for a moment. "Do you think the city can be saved?"
"I don't know," I said honestly. "But I think we can save the people we can reach."
She nodded. "That's enough for me."
She was quiet again, then said, "You know, the first time I saw you, I thought you were just another soldier who didn't care."
"What changed your mind?" I asked.
"You came back for me," she said. "Most people wouldn't have."
"I couldn't leave you," I said.
She smiled. "I'm glad you didn't."
I squeezed her hand.
A while later, the healer came back and checked Ilin's pulse again. "You're stable. Get another hour of sleep if you can."
Ilin nodded. "I will."
The healer looked at me. "You should rest too."
"I will," I said.
The healer moved on.
Ilin closed her eyes, but after a minute she opened them again. "Tell me about the water tower."
I smiled. "It was old, rusted, the ladder was shaky. I used to climb it after my shift. From the top you could see the river, the market, the old park. On clear nights you could see the stars."
"What did the stars look like?" she asked.
"Bright," I said. "Like someone scattered salt across black velvet."
She smiled. "I've never seen stars like that. The city lights always drown them out."
"You'll see them," I said.
She closed her eyes again. "I'm holding you to that."
"You can," I said.
We were quiet for a while.
Ilin's breathing slowed, deepened.
I watched her face, the way her eyelashes rested on her cheeks, the faint line of the scar on her chin.
I thought about the night — the rift, the creatures, the way Ilin had thrown herself in front of that man to heal him even though it cost her. The way she'd saved me on the bridge, again in the rail yard, again on the train.
I'd never felt this kind of closeness with anyone. Not in the factory, not with coworkers, not with anyone I'd known before tonight.
It scared me, a little.
But it also steadied me.
Ilin shifted in her sleep, her hand tightening around mine.
I adjusted the blanket over her, tucking it around her shoulders.
I was exhausted, my muscles sore, my shoulder and forearm aching even after Ilin's healing. But I couldn't sleep yet.
I kept watch.
A while later, Ilin murmured in her sleep, "I love you."
My chest tightened.
"I love you too," I whispered, even though she was asleep.
She smiled in her sleep.
I stayed there, holding her hand, listening to her breathe, watching the lantern light flicker on her face.
Outside, the rift pulsed, the city burned, and the war continued.
But inside this small corner of the medical tent, it was quiet, and Ilin was safe, and I was with her.
That was enough.
When the six hours were up, a soldier came to wake us.
"Squad 9, time to move."
Ilin opened her eyes, blinked, and sat up slowly.
"You slept," I said.
"I did," she said, smiling a little. "I feel better."
"You look better," I said.
She stood, steadier this time. I stood with her.
Garrick was already on his feet, rolling his shoulder. Mara was packing her pipe. Finn was checking his rifle.
The commander appeared at the entrance. "Squad 9, you're being sent to Sector 9, east side. The creatures are massing there. Hold the line until the evacuation is complete."
"Yes, sir," I said.
We gathered our gear and moved out.
As we left the medical tent, Ilin slipped her hand into mine.
I squeezed it.
We walked out into the night, the violet light of the rift overhead, the sounds of battle growing louder ahead.
Ilin stayed close to me.
I kept my arm near her, ready if she needed support.
We were tired, we were hurt, and the night was far from over.
But we were together.
And that was enough.