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

Aissa shoves him out of the way as the truck jumps the curb again. Brakes squeal and the huge vehicle fishtails, the bed away from them and the hood pointed their way. It spins in a slow circle, impossibly slow—Trin thinks it’ll never stop completely, just keep pulling back, it’s almost turned around now and the gunners in the back have to duck beneath the half-closed bay door as the bed slides inside the garage. No.


The side of the truck hits the doorframe with a sickening crunch of metal. The garage’s corrugated steel siding gives way with a painful squeal, crumpling like tissue paper beneath the truck’s weight. As the truck stalls out Trin pushes Aissa away from him, no. Where’s Gerrick? “Where…”


Chapter 41