The storm came fast, the way they always did in the high passes.
Kael gritted his teeth and pressed forward, the wind howling like a wounded god across the mountaintop. His suit read minus eleven degrees Celsius, with wind chill pushing it well below freezing. The Odradek had retracted, but his instincts told him BTs weren't far. Mire hovered beside him, flickering like a candle flame caught in the gale, her silhouette straining to stay upright.
"We're close," he muttered, mostly for himself. The ping from his wrist terminal had confirmed it—Relay Cabin Zeta-11, an old weather shelter used by independent porters and exile technicians. Kael had never been there before, but the logs claimed it was still functional.
Lightning danced over the ridge as he crested the final rise. Beneath the frozen slope, buried half in snow and shadow, was a structure of corrugated metal and reinforced concrete. A faded symbol was etched above the doorway: "In Silence, Safety."
Kael reached the door, punched in the access override, and stepped inside.
The warmth hit like a memory.
He stood in the airlock while the systems cycled the pressure and sterilized his gear. Mire vanished into his shadow the moment the door opened. Smart. This place might be occupied.
The inner door unlocked with a hiss.
Inside, the cabin was dim but alive. Yellow utility lights hummed along the ceiling. A terminal flickered on the wall. A wood-burning stove, of all things, crackled faintly in the corner.
And at the far end, in a low bunk under an emergency blanket, lay an old man—gray-bearded, skin leathery from decades of windburn, and wearing a patched-up Bridges parka.
He looked up when Kael entered. His voice rasped like dried paper. "Thought I was hearing things. Don't get visitors much. You here to rob me, or rescue me?"
Kael stepped closer, letting the cargo case slide off his back. "Neither. Just passing through. Figured you could use this."
He handed over a small insulated satchel—inside, three doses of anti-chiral suppressant, two days' worth of protein paste, and a replacement heat cell.
The man blinked, surprised. "You're one of them, huh? The ones who still walk for nothing."
Kael shrugged. "Not for nothing."
The man snorted. "Well, hell. Sit down, then. I won't try to bite you."
Kael eased into the crate across from him. Mire reappeared quietly near the stove, her form nearly invisible in the warm light.
The man studied Kael for a while. His gaze wasn't hostile, just... worn.
"You don't look like one of theirs," he said. "Not anymore."
Kael didn't answer.
The man shifted, his joints cracking. "Another one came through here a while back. Few weeks ago. Maybe longer. Weather's made a mess of my memory."
Kael tilted his head. "Another porter?"
The old man nodded. "Yeah. Woman. Silent type. Barely said two words. Wore a coat like yours, only older. Black. Looked like she'd taken a blowtorch to the Bridges logo."
Kael's heart stilled for half a second. "She say her name?"
"Just Sam. Short for Samantha, I think. Had that 'don't talk to me' look about her." He chuckled softly. "But she was kind. Left me some power cells and patched my leg when the med gel ran out. Didn't stay long."
Kael didn't speak.
"She had this way of looking at you," the man continued. "Not like she was judging, or even listening. Like she already knew. Everything about you. Like she'd read your whole life in a second and just… accepted it."
He leaned back against the wall. "Funny, that. You've got the same look."
Kael finally spoke. "She come from the west?"
"Didn't say. Just walked out of the fog one morning. And vanished into it the next. Left me a note, but it got soaked. All I remember was one line."
The old man closed his eyes, searching.
"'If you see someone walking the same road alone—tell him I'm still walking too.'"
Kael sat in silence.
Mire moved closer to him, almost protectively. Her glow dimmed.
"Did she mention BTs?" Kael asked, carefully.
The man shook his head. "Didn't have to. There was a trail of tar across the hill when she left. Footprints… and something else. Like she wasn't just walking away, but dragging something heavy behind her."
Kael thought of the pod. Of the face he saw inside it.
Of Mire.
"Thank you," he said quietly, standing.
The man blinked. "That's it? You're not gonna rest?"
Kael slung the cargo case over his shoulder. "No. I've got another ridge to cross before dark."
The man laughed. "You porters. Always chasing something."
Kael looked toward the door.
"I think… someone's chasing me back."
He gave the old man a slight nod and stepped out into the storm. Mire followed, her form more visible now, glowing faintly in the whiteout.
They didn't speak as they walked.
But Kael's mind was louder than it had been in days.
---
> She's out there.
Still walking.
And somehow… she already knows me.