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

Leading him inside the room, she holds his shoulders as he steps out of his pants. He struggles to free himself from his shirt and she holds the sleeves up out of his way as the shirt slips off over his head. Like a broken toy, Trin falls down onto the rumpled sheets of his pallet and swats away Aissa’s concerned hands that touch his arms and face. He doesn’t like this sudden gentleness of hers. It makes him suspect that she knows something she doesn’t want to share. As she tries to lie him back against the pillows, he resists. “Aissa, wait.”


“Trin, you’re worn out.” True, and at her words his body feels old. He lays down, the pillow bunched beneath his head. What all did she slip him? “I’ll send him up,” she’s saying from a million miles away, “don’t worry none. I won’t let him have a different room even if he asks for it.”


Chapter 17