Plague stands at the railing.
His lean frame is silhouetted against the gray sky.
Snow swirls around him.
Catches in his dark hair.
He doesn't turn as I approach.
Just stares at the mountains we are leaving behind.
Looks off into the swirling snowy skies.
Stop a few feet behind him.
Waiting.
Silent.
He knows I'm here.
Might as well have announced myself with a fucking trumpet.
But I will wait.
He will speak when he wants to.
Minutes pass.
Only sound is the hum of the train.
Clack-clack-clackof the wheels.
My breath fogs through the scarf.
Finally, Plague speaks.
"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"
His voice is quiet, almost sad.
So different from his usual clinical tone.
I don't respond.
Don't need to.
He isn't really talking to me anyway.
"I suppose you're wondering why I brought us here," he continues, still not looking at me. "Why I made this deal. What connections I could possibly have in a place like Surhiira where no one gets in and no one gets out."
I grunt softly.
Yes.
Obviously.
He chuckles, the sound devoid of any humor.
