In a future where outposts swelter beneath a nuclear sun and run-gunners patrol dusty wastelands to protect against winged creatures known as devlars, Trin is the mech at the waystation in Arens. He has a thing for the gunners: rough men with strong hands and hard bodies, who roll through his garage like the hot desert wind. Gerrick’s the best gunner around, a quick draw with a deadly aim and a penchant for sharing his pallet with young men. He has a roving eye and roaming hands, and has left a string of broken hearts in his wake. Having heard the tales of Gerrick's bravery and seen the man in action for himself, Trin has fallen in love with the man he believes Gerrick to be, and he’s sure he can change the gunner’s mind if given the chance. Gerrick’s all he wants out of this blasted world, and he tells anyone who will listen. Then Gerrick rides through Arens. He’s heard the rumors of what Trin will do for a gunner who only mentions his name. What he wants to know is, what will Trin do for him?

Trin

He strips off his overalls where he stands and leaves them in a ball on the floor at his feet. Beneath the work clothes he wears a dingy t-shirt that the jumper did little to protect and a pair of jeans washed colorless by time. Squatting down, he wipes his hands on the overalls, his skin almost as black as the shadows, covered in grease and oil that refuses to come off easily. The pump in the corner gleams with a dull shine but he doesn’t feel like using it—he’ll shower upstairs and sit naked on his pallet while he waits for Gerrick. Who’s probably already up there,he tells himself. He’s hard just thinking about the gunner, and in his room! Trin can’t seem to get over that part of it.


Chapter 12