Candice

It didn't matter which side of the car Candice looked out of, the view was the same.

Their train rode north, riding one of the causeways to the second wall. The Gloam had claimed the fields both east and west, and now flowed south with the swift assurance of a river's currents.

Ahead was nothing but darkness, blacker than anything Candice had ever seen before. Living her life sheltered behind the fires of the Spire, it was rare to even sleep without a little bit of firelight creeping through drawn curtains, or casting light through the slits in a closed door. Even being surrounded by the Gloam as she was after the Golem had breached the outermost wall hadn't been as dark as the sight she was riding to now. Even the pilot lights along the wall ahead had gone dark.

The only thing the light of the distant Spire shone on was the grey mist of the Gloam as it poured up and over the wall.

"You say you were in one of the fields, when that happened?" Michael Omistal asked.

Michael was her babysitter as much as her coworker, Michael's black hair and white collar were both slick with sweat, much as her own likely was. The gentle breeze coming through an open window was bitterly cold against Candice's throat. But the bitter cold was a small pain, and worth paying for smelling something other than the chemicals they had used to clean this room.

"Yeah, I was. Some soldiers escorted us out, with torches," Candice admitted, and she shivered from more than the cold.

"And you said you've seen those creatures? The Gloamtaken?"

"I, I have," Candice said, and she turned away from the window. "But they're not creatures.  They're the dead. Our dead, or the dead from the past. If those soldiers hadn't come..."

"You could be down there?" Michael asked.

Candice nodded, and shivered one more time.

The door at the front of the car slid open, and one of the train conductors sprinted through. She stopped as soon as she saw Candice and Michael, and grabbed one of the support pillars.  "Take a seat and brace, we're going to be doing a hard stop."

"Hard stop? Why?" Michael asked. "We're barely halfway across."

The orderly shrugged. Michael marched past the orderly and out of the car. Candice hesitated just a moment, then followed after.

"Where's Miss Eridwen?" Michael asked. The next car had quite a few more people, many of them masked, standing around several tables and small beds.

One of them pointed towards the engine. "She went to argue with the engineer. Apparently we're stopping, since the wall went dark."

"Bet she's taking that well," Michael muttered as she ran ahead.

Candice followed him through the doors to the next car, and then the one after. From the first car Candice could hear shouting over even the hiss and clack of the engine. "You most certainly are not stopping here. There are people up ahead waiting for us!"

Candice and Michael rushed through the last door, to see their team leader, Physician Farrah Eridwen waving her finger angrily at one of the train's two engineers. The other engineer was busy working on something, leaving the pair alone to their verbal sparring.

"Have a look out the burning window! That's the ash-touched Gloam pouring over the wall like someone built the levees too low," the engineer cursed as he pointed out the window. "We can't go in there. Whoever we were supposed to pick up is dead, or would be better off if they were."

"You can't know that!" Candice shouted, surprising herself with how quickly the words came out.

"Everyone in the City knows the Gloam kills, kid," the lead engineer said.

"They have torches," Candice insisted. "Every soldier on the walls will have torches. Even one lit torch could save a dozen people if they bunched together."

"I don't see any lights up ahead."

"You wouldn't. The Gloam covers you, even from above. It looks like you're in a cave when you're surrounded by it."

"And I should be taking your word over it for what reason, kid?"

"I was in the field behind the last wall, when the Golems came. The Gloam flooded us before we made it to the causeway. I'd be one of those creatures you're so afraid of, if it weren't for the soldiers on the watch."

"But we're going to drive this train into the Gloam, to rescue people we can't see or even expect to be able to find. What's to stop the the Gloam from pouring into the train and killing us?"

"Don't be daft. You know better than I do that the train has pilot lights," Miss Eridwen snapped.

"And that's going to keep the Gloam out?"

"As long as the fires burn, it will hold the Gloam back," Candice said softly, but confidently.

The engineer scowled, but eventually flicked a switch near his head. "Okay. On your heads be it. The pilot lights are fed by the same reservoirs that fuel the engine, so that will cut into the distance we can cover. We'll stop at the junction point and wait, then do a slow trip along the wall to the next causeway."

"About time you grew a spine," Miss Eridwen said.

"How about you go check to make sure all the pilot lights have turned on? Just so that I'm not tempted to uncouple the cars and leave you behind," the engineer said, and pointed at the door.

Ms Eridwen nodded, and pointed at the door. "You heard the engineer. Go across the train, and check the pilot lights. Candice, how far apart should they be?"

Candice nearly objected. It wasn't a subject she had any firm knowledge in, and she wasn't an architect or engineer. But a quick glance, from Ms Eridwen to the engineers, and to Michael, and she realized that she knew the most of anyone on this train about what they were riding into. "Forty feet apart. That's how far apart the pilot lights on the walls were."

"That should mean two lights on each side of the train, shouldn't it?" Miss Eridwen asked.

The engineer nodded. "We'll be slowing in half a minute. A nice, slow, screechy kind of stop. Unless the Gloam swallows sound, anyone out there will hear us come in."

"Understood. Michael, Candice, check those pilot lights then help get ready for potential casualties," Miss Eridwen said. She marched ahead of them, snapping her fingers and pointing at the orderlies, nurses, and physicians waiting nearby. Their lead physician didn't speak, did little more than point to occasionally interrupt someone in motion. It was amazing to see over a dozen people begin to dash about, conducted by little more than a pointed finger and the occasional gesture.

"Take the left side?" Michael asked, as he pointed to his right.

Candice nodded, and looked out the windows. Below, she counted one little fire spitting out from a narrow pipe directly below her, and one more further down the train. She marched the through the busy crowd and into the next car, just behind Michael.

The brakes began to scream as Candice searched for the next lights, though she barely felt the train begin to slow. She looked through the next train car, and the next, until she reached the rear car. As she searched for the lights, she could begin to make out the individual stones that formed the Causeway, rather than a blur of motion. She glanced out the back window, seeing a pilot light by the door, and smiled in relief. Regardless of whatever else happened, at least the Gloam wouldn't get in.

Which she knew to be true, because they were now back inside the Gloam. Just as if they were inside a tunnel, the Gloam now lay over the train.

Candice and Michael hurried back, just as the train grumbled to a stop. At the first car, one of the orderlies had opened the side door had just hopped outside, setting up a long ramp. A couple of people on the other side of the car were doing the same.

Surprisingly, Michael went down the ramp as soon as it was set up, and walked right up to where the Gloam lurked. "Hello!" he shouted into the grey wall of mist. "Is anyone out there?"

"Micheal, what the burning hell are you doing?" Miss Eridwen snapped. "Get back inside! The first thing to pop out of the mist might not be a -"

A figure carrying a torch poured through the Gloam with a very sudden swirl of grey mist, almost as if she had popped out of thin air. She was followed by three others; two soldiers supporting a third between them. And one last person; a man in a black coat, with a knife in one hand and a torch in the other.

"Quick, we need to go!" the woman in the lead exclaimed, sprinting straight up the ramp and inside. "Gloamtaken, they're back there!"

"What's wrong with him, corporal?" Miss Eridwen asked, pointing back down the ramp.

"I, I don't-" the woman stuttered, and shook her head. "We have to go!"

"She breathed in the Gloam," one of the soldiers carrying his companion explained. "She's having a hard time breathing."

"Get her inside," Miss Eridwen snapped. "Bring a valved mask and a billows. And bring a set of wet tubes, just in case. Are there any more of you back there?"

"Sergeant Willows and two others, Gloamtaken were catching up to us," the other soldier carrying the wounded one said, as they let the orderlies take over.

"We can't wait for them. There's so many out there," the corporal muttered, as she sat down in a nearby chair. The woman was still holding her torch, upraised, but was otherwise unarmed. Candice stared at the Corporal for a moment until she remembered that soldiers were supposed to have their swords with them at all times. This woman's scabbard was empty.

A blur of black passed Candice, but stopped and turned to face her. "Would you hold this for a second?" he asked, and extended his torch.

The man's right hand was badly scarred with a wide, round, and strangely glossy disfiguration just below his knuckles.

The man in the black coat stepped up to the corporal. "Miss," he said slowly. "I need your torch."

"No, I, I need this," the woman said.

The man in black didn't respond. But his left hand gripped her torch, and their eyes locked.

The man's right hand was a sudden blur, and the corporal's head flew back, with blood spurting from her nose. A few of the orderlies shouted, but surprisingly, none of the other soldiers made any noise or moved to defend her.

The man turned away, her torch in his hand. He stepped back to Candice, and with a polite nod, took his torch back. "Ignio, you with me?" he asked without looking back.

One of the soldiers standing beside the wounded woman turned around. "Right with ya," he said, and hurried back out of the train.

"Michael, Candice, wait by the ramp. Be ready to either fold it up, or toss it away. We might need to leave in a hurry," Miss Eridwen said. She was by the bed of the soldier who had breathed in the Gloam, working with a pair of long, flexible tubes while one of the orderles was holding the soldier down.

"How long do we give them?" Michael asked.

"As long as we can," Miss Eridwen said, and there was an edge to her tone that stymied any thought of further questions.