Time stood still as we stared at each other. Neither of us knew what to say. After all, this world had barely any inhabitants, so you didn’t expect to run into anyone.
Well, I’d noticed her first, so I decided I should speak up first as well.
“Hi there.”
I hadn’t greeted anyone in quite a while. It felt like I was using a different part of my throat than when I talked to myself, and I sounded clumsy and hoarse. I cleared my throat to try to play it off.
“Hello...there,” she replied after a short pause.
A breeze would have easily drowned her out, and she sounded as hoarse as I had. She covered her mouth and let out an uncertain mewl that reminded me of a cat.
We were too far apart to talk properly, so I moved toward her. The air grew pleasantly warm as I stepped out into the open. I stopped about three meters short of her, held back by the suspicion in her eyes.
“I’m not a weirdo. Well, I guess I just sound more like one if I describe myself like that,” I started, saying something I’d never before thought I would. “I’ve been driving for ages and came across the station and decided to take a break, and then you were here.”
The deluge of words leaving my mouth just sounded like excuses. Apparently, I’d forgotten how to hold a conversation.
“I...see,” she said after another pause.
Damn, she’s totally on guard. I get that, but I don’t have a clue what to do about it.
Then I thought about things more calmly and realized it seriously looked like I was some pickup artist. Also, given the state of the world, it was even harder to say she shouldn’t be on guard. I’d called out to her impulsively because I was desperate for human contact, but I should have given it more forethought.
I scratched at my cheek, at a loss. Of course, nothing useful came to mind. I could have asked if she was painting, but it didn’t look like she wanted to chat.
“Um, well, sorry to interrupt,” I offered with a strained smile before turning on my heel.
I might not have intended it like that, but looking at it objectively, I’d just failed my first pickup attempt.
A quiet call came from behind me and I jumped in surprise. When I turned around, the girl had a hand over her own mouth like it had taken her by surprise as well. Our eyes met, and her gaze wavered. Sensing her hesitation, I waited in silence, but...
“No, it was nothing,” she said to her feet before turning back to her easel.
I wasn’t dense enough to miss that she was ending our conversation, so I returned to the cool shade.
There was nothing else in the station really worth talking about. There was a little room for the staff behind one of the windows, but it was an utter shambles. I wondered how many people had kept the station running as the end of the world became apparent. The world ending would obviously mean more people wanting to board a train to somewhere else, but I doubted it’d make more people want to organize those trains.
The setting sun gleamed on the water’s surface as I returned to the entrance and walked outside.
Guess she’ll be there for a while, I mused with a glance back toward the building.
I was tired of it all—just sitting in the seat constantly, holding onto the wheel and driving through featureless plains—so I wanted to camp here. The girl had been here first though, and she was wary of me, so maybe I shouldn’t.
Ah well, I decided, I’ll shift away from the station and camp out of the damp.
My shoes and socks needed taking off again, and once I’d done that and rolled my pants legs up, I headed down the stairs barefoot. The chill of the water enveloped my toes as I stepped into it. When I reached the Kettle, I opened the driver’s door and threw my shoes and bag inside, then dried my feet off before settling into the seat. I reached for the throttle and realized...
“Huh...”
The needle on the dial that showed the boiler pressure had dropped all the way down. When I went inside, I’d left the boiler warm. I always did that so I could get going again immediately, until I parked wherever I was camping for the night.
That’s weird, I thought, an ominous chill running up my back.
I glanced over the other dials next to it. The fuel pressure gauge showed it was ready to go, lit and everything. I wound the fuel valve around again. That should have opened up the pipe between the fuel tank and the boiler, turning the water into steam. However long I waited, though, I couldn’t hear the water start bubbling. The needle on the pressure gauge shuddered a bit, but nothing more.
Back around the other way the valve went before I turned off the burner. Then I just collapsed across the steering wheel. The blood drained from my face as I pressed hard against my temples. I just lay there, my head spinning.
I’d expected this, I told myself. There had been signs the car was breaking down. If anything, I was glad I’d made it this far considering how little I’d done to keep it running.
Biting my lip, I opened the door. This time I just jumped down into the water with no fanfare. The legs of my pants got soaked, but I didn’t pay that any mind.
I walked around to the front and opened the hood, gazing upon the Kettle’s heart. The steam pistons that drove the wheels resided here, along with the boiler that made the steam itself. I checked everything over from front to back. Then I did it thrice more. There was nothing to see though—nothing as obvious as a crack in one of the pipes or leaking oil, at least.
I gave up, closed the hood, and went back to the driver’s seat.
Through the start-up process again I went: Ignition lit, setting the mana stones in the fuel tank alight and making the fuel pressure rise. No problems with the water level in the boiler. Prayers in my heart, I slowly opened the fuel valve.
I counted the time on my watch. The hand went around. Once, twice, thrice...
The needle on the boiler’s pressure gauge rested on its stop, utterly motionless. I closed the valve and extinguished the fuel.
Today was done for; the question was if there would be a tomorrow. There was an abandoned station in front of me, and a flooded hollow around me. Other than that, nothing.