Strangers on a Steampunk Train Ch. 03

"it's okay. We're safe in here. Let's move away from the door." He cradled me and set me on a desk. More gun shots, and banging filled my head. I couldn't think straight. I could only remember the cold stare of the man in the train as he pointed his gun at me.

"Emeline!" Viktor snapped. "Listen, I've got it, but now we have to get out. I've found these weapons," he tried to show me the confiscated weapons, but I pushed him aside. I grabbed the technapad, hungrily. "Emeline!" he yelled in my ears, but I could barely hear.

"Turn on that computer," I commanded. He questioned me, but obeyed, nonetheless. I ripped open the drawers looking for cords, wires, anything to connect the two gadgets. "It's going to be locked," he barked, angrily.

Bingo. In the bottom drawer, a connector wire. I hooked the computer to my technapad. Instantly, the computer screen turned black, a green cursor blinking. I configured the pad as fast I could. I was focusing better since it had gone quiet outside. As I plugged away, a massive thud hit the door. They were trying to ram it down. Viktor held a gun in his hand, but peeked over my shoulder.

"Should I be worried?" he asked, earnestly. "Because I'm getting worried." Click.

"No," I responded. A black swirl appeared in the air with the sound of electrical snapping. I grabbed Viktor's hand and jumped through, technapad in hand. Our feet landed on the solid ground of Oranienburger Station. A few heads turned, surprised to see us, but they tried to ignore our panting, smell, and guns—which Viktor quickly pocketed. I was no longer exhausted and afraid; I marched off the platform and into the street, Viktor in tow.

"Are you going to tell me what just happened?" he whispered in the busy street.

"I could," I responded. "I guess you probably have some interesting theories." I was taking him home. I was going to show him everything. I couldn't give up my plan, but I could stop pulling him around like an animal. His hand fell out of mine but I kept marching; he would follow.

"Emeline," he snapped. I turned, ready to argue. His muscular hands grabbed my face and yanked me toward him. His lips landed on mine and he held me there, hungry. One hand trailed down to my lower back and held me against his quivering body. He was shaking. With an inhale, his body calmed and he pulled me in deeper. My body went slack in his arms and my hands landed slowly on his chest. I stayed on his lips, breathing life back in. I wasn't going to let go. I felt certain, I couldn't let go. I had become a part of the unwitting coal miner of Berlitz. Slowly and naturally, we fell away from each other. I felt his hand on my back slowly release. Self-conscious, I pulled my hands away from his chest. He heaved subtly under his red shirt and stared down at me, intensely. He seemed even more vulnerable than I felt. I turned.

"We still have work to do." He walked close by my side up the stairs and into the street.