The Companion

Short Ride #3



The Wayfarer came out of the rift hard enough to shake the frame, the force of the transition carrying through the floor beneath Lee’s boots before the world outside the glass fully took shape. Color returned first in faded bands of brown and dull gold, then detail followed behind it. Sand stretched toward the horizon in long dead waves broken only by scattered ruins and the black skeletons of structures that had once reached much higher into the sky. Nothing moved out there. No birds crossed overhead. No smoke drifted from hidden settlements. The world looked less destroyed than abandoned by life itself.

The train slowed as it rolled through the wasteland, iron wheels grinding softly against rails nearly swallowed by drifting dunes. Lee stood near the side door with one hand braced against the metal, his eyes following the tracks ahead until he found the break. The rails did not end naturally. They had been torn upward violently, twisted apart and shoved out of the earth as though something massive had erupted beneath them long ago. Beyond that point, the desert had reclaimed everything.

The Wayfarer continued forward anyway.

That alone made Lee straighten slightly. The train did not waste movement. It crossed worlds with purpose, choosing where it stopped with a precision he still did not fully understand. Sometimes it lingered near active cities. Sometimes it avoided human settlement entirely. But dead worlds were different. The Wayfarer usually passed through them without pause.

A quiet pressure stirred behind his thoughts, subtle but unmistakable. The presence of the train aligning itself with him.

“Why here?” Lee asked quietly.

For a moment, there was nothing but the low hum of the engine and the sound of sand striking the outer frame.

Then the answer arrived through the implant, clean and toneless.

Life signature detected.

Lee frowned slightly. “That’s it?”

The Wayfarer offered nothing further.

Outside, the train eased down beside what had once been a station platform, though most of it had collapsed beneath years of heat and drifting sand. Concrete slabs leaned at broken angles while rusted support beams pushed upward from the dunes like exposed ribs. A scorched sign still stood near the edge of the platform, its lettering worn beyond recognition by time and weather.

Once the engine settled, the silence pressed harder.

Not quiet.

Absence.

Even ruined worlds usually carried something living inside them. Birds nesting in broken buildings. Insects buried beneath debris. Wind moving through trees or hollow streets. This place carried none of it. The air itself felt stripped clean.

Then Lee heard the bark.

Short. Hoarse. Distant.

His eyes lifted immediately toward the ruins beyond the station. Several seconds passed before another bark followed, weaker this time but unmistakably real.

A dog.

That should not have been possible here.

Lee grabbed his coat from the nearby hook and slipped it on as he moved toward the door. Dry heat rolled into the compartment the second the seal broke, carrying dust and the bitter mineral smell of dead earth baked beneath endless sun. The ground shifted beneath his boots as he stepped off the platform, sand sliding loosely over old pavement buried beneath decades of drift.

The bark came again somewhere ahead.

Closer now.

Lee started walking.

The remains of the station gave way to what had once been a road, though most of it had collapsed beneath cracked earth and dunes. Rusted vehicles rested half swallowed by sand, their frames stripped down to hollow shells by time. Some looked burned from the inside out while others had simply died where they stopped. Heat shimmer rolled across the landscape in slow waves, bending the edges of distant ruins until the world itself looked unstable.

Lee crouched briefly near one of the drifts, studying the tracks pressed into the loose sand beside an overturned truck. Not human. Too many legs. The impressions were fresh enough that the edges had not yet collapsed beneath the wind.

That brought his eyes slowly upward.

The growl came next.

Low. Distant. Animal.

Lee moved forward more carefully after that, stepping between broken concrete and collapsed debris while the dead city stretched around him in every direction. He passed the remains of a drainage canal where faded graffiti still clung stubbornly to cracked walls beneath years of dust and heat. Bones rested below among the debris, picked clean long ago.

Not all of them belonged to animals.

Something watched him from above.

Lee stopped and slowly turned his head toward the rooftops overlooking the canal. Several figures stood there wrapped in patched hides and faded cloth, thin shapes against the pale sky. Human, though only barely by the look of them. Their faces remained hidden behind scarves and scavenged goggles while crude weapons rested in their hands. Spears mostly. Bone knives. One held a bow made from stripped cable and weathered wood.

Primitive survivors.

None of them approached.

They watched him silently for several long seconds before one of them made a sharp motion toward the ruins farther ahead. Not warning him away from the area.

Warning him about something inside it.

Then they disappeared behind the collapsed rooftop without another sound.

Lee remained still another moment before continuing forward.

The structures ahead looked older than the rest of the city, massive concrete buildings partially buried beneath dunes and split open by time. Twisted metal hung from exposed ceilings while shattered glass glittered faintly beneath layers of dust. The smell hit him before he reached the entrance.

Rot.

Fresh enough to matter.

Several carcasses lay scattered across the floor of what had once been some kind of market or transit center. Their hides had been ripped open in ragged tears, bones cracked apart and hollowed clean. Massive tracks circled through the dust around them.

Scorpion.

Far too large.

Lee crouched beside one of the prints, studying the depth pressed into the dirt. Heavy body. Fast movement judging by the drag marks. Fresh again.

A bark exploded deeper inside the structure.

Closer now.

Violent scraping followed immediately after it.

Lee looked up just as movement flashed between the broken pillars ahead. Low to the ground. Fast enough that he barely caught more than shape and motion before it disappeared behind a collapsed wall.

Then the dog burst into view.

The animal moved in a blur of tan and black fur, lean almost to the point of starvation but still powerful beneath it. One ear had been torn nearly in half and old scars crossed its muzzle and shoulders. Its eyes locked onto Lee for half a second before shifting sharply past him toward the darkness overhead.

The growl that left it this time carried pure warning.

Lee turned instinctively.

Something skittered across the ceiling above him.

The thing dropped from the ceiling fast enough that Lee barely got clear before it hit the floor where he had been standing. Concrete cracked beneath the impact as claws scraped across the broken tile, the creature’s tail whipping over its back in a blur of black chitin and hooked steel. Dust exploded outward around it while loose debris rattled down from the ruined ceiling above.

The dog barked sharply.

Warning.

Lee saw the stinger strike a fraction before it landed. The tail punched into the pillar beside him hard enough to split concrete apart in a burst of fragments. He moved instinctively, circling away from the thing as it tore the stinger free again with a sound like grinding metal.

The creature turned toward him fully now.

It was a scorpion once.

Maybe.

The body had swollen far beyond anything natural, the shell layered thick and uneven like burned armor while pale movement twitched beneath the joints. Its eyes reflected dull against the drifting light overhead, empty and cold in a way that belonged more to instinct than thought.

The dog stayed low near the collapsed wall, teeth bared but not retreating.

That bothered Lee more than if it had run.

The scorpion lunged.

Lee twisted sideways as one claw snapped shut where his ribs had been. The force of it shattered tile and sent broken stone skidding across the floor. He drove the knife downward into the creature’s forward joint as it passed him, but the blade only buried halfway before catching against thicker shell beneath.

The thing screamed.

Not animal.

Mechanical.

It jerked violently sideways and one of its claws caught Lee across the side hard enough to throw him backward into a pile of broken debris. Pain flared sharp through his ribs as dust rolled around him and the creature came immediately after him, fast despite its size.

The Shepherd moved first.

It launched onto the creature’s side with a snarl that echoed through the ruins, teeth locking near the base of the tail while the scorpion thrashed violently against the attack. The impact shook loose concrete from overhead as the creature slammed itself backward into the wall trying to throw the dog free.

Lee rolled onto one knee, breathing hard now.

The dog was buying him seconds.

Nothing more.

The scorpion twisted again, dragging the Shepherd sideways through the debris while its underside exposed briefly between the broken plates near the head. Lee saw the opening and moved before it disappeared. The creature sensed him coming and turned sharply, but the dog lunged again at the exact same moment, forcing its attention sideways.

Lee buried the knife upward beneath the front plating with both hands.

The scream that came out of the creature shook through the floor beneath them.

It thrashed wildly, tail smashing downward hard enough to crack through concrete while dark fluid spilled from beneath its shell. Lee barely got clear before the stinger punched into the floor beside him. The scorpion staggered sideways, legs scraping wildly for balance before the strength finally left it.

The body collapsed with a heavy crack of shell and stone.

Then everything went still.

Dust drifted slowly through the ruined structure while the last echoes of the fight faded into the dead silence outside. Lee stayed crouched where he was for a moment, breathing steady again while the creature twitched once beneath the knife and finally stopped moving altogether.

The dog stepped back carefully, favoring one rear leg now.

Blood darkened the fur near its shoulder.

Lee stood slowly and pulled the knife free from the carcass before wiping the blade against the creature’s shell. The Shepherd watched him the entire time, tense and ready, but it did not run.

“You’re either real stupid,” Lee muttered, “or you’ve been alone too long.”

The dog’s ears shifted slightly at the sound of his voice.

Lee crouched near his pack and pulled a water flask free before unscrewing the cap. He poured some into a shallow dip in the cracked floor between them and leaned back again without forcing anything.

The Shepherd stayed still several long seconds before finally limping forward.

Up close, the damage survival had done to it stood out clearer. Old scars crossed its muzzle and neck beneath layers of dust. One ear had been torn nearly in half long ago. Its ribs showed beneath the fur despite the strength still left in its frame.

Not tame.

Not wild either.

Just surviving.

The dog drank quickly, then lifted its head again toward the darkness behind them.

Lee heard it a second later.

Clicking.

More than one now.

The sound carried faintly through the ruins beyond the broken pillars.

More scorpions.

Lee stood immediately. “Yeah,” he muttered. “I hear it.”

The dog moved first, limping toward the collapsed entrance while Lee followed close behind. Heat rolled over them again the second they stepped back outside, the ruined city stretching endless and dead beneath the pale sky. Wind pushed sand through the streets in long shifting trails while the clicking behind them slowly grew louder.

The figures on the rooftops had returned.

Primitive survivors watched silently from above the drainage canal, wrapped in scavenged cloth and hides with crude spears resting in their hands. None approached the ruins. None followed close behind either. Their attention stayed fixed on the movement deeper in the city as if they understood exactly what hunted there.

The Shepherd stayed several steps behind Lee as they crossed back through the dead streets. It never moved close enough to touch him, but it never fell away either. Every time Lee glanced back, those pale brown eyes remained fixed on him with the same wary attention.

The station platform finally appeared through the drifting heat ahead.

The Wayfarer waited exactly where he had left it.

Untouched.

The survivors stood farther back now near the ruined structures overlooking the station, keeping their distance from the train itself. Lee could feel it in the way they watched the black locomotive.

Fear.

Not of him.

Of the Wayfarer.

Like they were looking at something ancient enough to belong to stories instead of the world they lived in.

Lee stepped onto the platform and stopped near the open doorway of the train. The Shepherd halted several yards away, tense again now, eyes fixed on the engine while the distant clicking slowly echoed closer through the city behind them.

Lee looked at the dog.

Then at the train.

Bringing something aboard changed things.

The Wayfarer had always been movement. Passage. Nothing stayed.

A quiet pressure stirred behind his thoughts.

Companion lifeform accepted.

Lee frowned slightly. “You already knew.”

The train gave no answer beyond the steady hum beneath the rails.

Behind him, the clicking sounds had grown closer now.

The dog heard it too.

Its ears lowered slightly as it glanced back toward the ruins before looking toward Lee again.

Waiting.

Lee exhaled slowly and stepped aside from the doorway.

“Well,” he said quietly, “you coming or not?”

The Shepherd hesitated only a second before climbing carefully onto the platform. Every movement stayed tense as it approached the train, but it crossed the doorway and disappeared inside without looking back.

Lee followed after it.

The door sealed shut behind them.

Outside, the dead world remained exactly as it had been. Empty skies. Endless dunes. Broken cities slowly disappearing beneath the sand.

The Wayfarer began to move.

Inside the compartment, the Shepherd settled near the boiler heat but kept one eye open toward Lee while the train rolled forward toward the broken tracks ahead. Just before the rails ended completely, the world outside stretched thin and fractured apart as the rift opened around them.

Color bled across the glass in pale streaks while the ruined Earth disappeared behind them.

Lee sat quietly across from the dog while the Wayfarer carried them both into the dark between worlds, and somewhere beneath the steady rhythm of the engine he realized this was the first thing he had ever chosen to take with him.

That unsettled him more than the creatures had.