Dawnrunner

I wake up feeling tired and restless. There are large bags under my eyes, and I’m pretty sure I’m thinner. The later I attribute to the fact that for the past two weeks I’ve barely had an appetite. In fact, as the days have progressed, everything has gotten harder: eating, sleeping, and especially working. Eventually Rianne reached breaking point, declaring that if I wasn’t about to leave she’d send me away for a weekend to sort myself out.
An alert from GE appeared on our accounts informing us that we would have to familiarise ourselves with the Dawnrunner before we would be allowed onboard. This meant studying the technical information I downloaded on my birthday until we both had a basic understanding of the working of the system.
An undersea tunnel of nearly 4200km running from Darwin to Hong Kong, and passing through the sunken islands of Indonesia and the Philippines, connects the Global Effort’s Sanctuary to the rest of the world. Once there the tracks run above ground across the Middle East to Istanbul and then up into Europe. It is rumoured that construction is continuing down towards Rome but public reports vary. Since the cataclysm the same cloud that blocks out the sun has rendered air travel impossible, and life outside the dome is largely unsustainable. Only a few areas had been reported to be free of the cloud. These safe havens are known as clear-sky zones. They serve as both the train’s name-sake and the destination of choice for passengers such as Rachel and I, who pay a small fortune in exchange for the chance to see and feel real sunlight.
A large section describes the train’s security features. Most important among them is the radiation barrier that Vince mentioned. The Darwin entrance to the Sanctuary – the only place the dome actually opens – is in fact an enormous gate, designed to flood the Dawnrunner carriages with UV radiation upon arrival. Not long enough to hurt humans, but apparently long enough to kill anything that might try to breach the Sanctuary.
“No wonder Vince thinks we’re going to get eaten by vampires,” I mumble as I close the security system files. Rachel is on the other side of the room and doesn’t hear me. Vincent hasn’t said a word to her about what he told me at the restaurant – and neither have I. Tonight we’re having a huge going-away party at their place, and if he doesn’t say something then, I may not be able to stop myself from having a vampire-moment of my own.

That night after work I catch a ride with Rachel back to her place. I’ve got a dress in car and everyone knows not to expect me to arrive looking my best. She looks amazing in her work clothes, which just makes me more desperate to get into a changing room. As we pull up I see something that completely steals my focus and makes me very grateful I don’t drive.
The whole place has been decorated for the occasion. Every surface is covered with lights and a giant lamp hangs over the entrance. A halo of golden points made out of cardboard sits above the lamp, which shines down brilliantly on the outdoor patio. It is, for tonight at least, the closest thing I have ever seen to the real sun. Mum must be beside herself with all the energy it’s using.
Rachel is beyond excited and practically dislocates my shoulder dragging me inside. I pause for a second under the lamp and close my eyes. I don’t even notice Rachel disappear on ahead as the artificial warmth fills me. Instead I try to imagine how I’ll feel when I finally get to experience the real thing. I’m broken from my daydream by Vincent, who looks amazing in a new suit.
“Hi, Carli. It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too Vince.” I stand on my toes and reach up to give him a hug. When my feet find the ground again I ask him if he’s talked to Rachel yet.
“Tonight, I promise. I’m going to do it in front of everyone.”
I can’t stop myself breaking into a wide smile. “You’ll do great Vince. And I know she’ll say yes.”
“I hope so. I love her, you know that.”
“Yeah, I do. And you’re doing the right thing letting her go.” Vince shifts uncomfortably, and I regret the thought of the two months he’s going to spend worrying about her – about both of us – while we’re away.
“Now, are you going to show me where I can get changed or what?!” I hold up my dress, grinning.
“Ah, indeed. Right this way, milady.” He holds up his arm for me to take and leads me theatrically into the party.

Everyone has turned out of the party: both our families and even the girls from work, including Rianne and Isis. My dress for the night is black and stylish but not too flashy. Rachel, meanwhile, has somehow found time to change into a stunning red which is elevated to breathtaking under her fiery hair. I roll my eyes inwardly and push my jealousy aside so I can enjoy the party.
A few hours in, Vince drops to his knee holding a ring between them, amidst gasps and at least one knowing smile. Rachel begins crying so quickly he doesn’t even have time to finish the lines he’s been practicing before she falls into his arms screaming ‘Yes!’ The room descends into applause and congratulations until someone turns on the music and the couples start to dance.
At the end of the song, an absolutely hysterical Rachel runs up to me, laughing and crying simultaneously. She shows me the ring – beautiful with large stones – and I try not to cringe at the thought of it appearing on Vince’s credit card bill.
“How do you feel, ‘Mrs. Bianco’?” I laugh.
“You knew he was going to ask me!” she cries, suddenly going from 0 to serious in a heartbeat. Somehow I manage to not choke on my drink.
“I… no… he told me…” I stammer, completely lost for words.
“It’s ok,” she laughs, fixing me with an ‘I got you’ grin. I could hate her right now. “He said he talked to you first, about wanting to propose and about how at the time he didn’t want us to go on the trip.”
“It’s not like that,” I start, feeling foolish for somehow getting stuck in the middle. “He just worries about you, about both of us. He says the train is dangerous, and he’s not completely wrong.”
“I know. But I don’t want to think about that now.” The smile returns as she grabs my arm. “Come on Carli, dance with me!”

Two days later a GE car with an 8-pointed star adorning the hood pulls up outside my house. A white plaque is attached on either side, with red and black stripes at the top and bottom framing the word DAWNRUNNER in the centre. A red-headed woman with wide-rimmed sunglasses who I’m embarrassed to call my friend waves at me wildly from the back seat.
A tall man, wearing a plain black suit that fails to hide the influence of military training in his disciplined walk, gets out from the driver’s seat. He doesn’t introduce himself but addresses me politely before taking my luggage to the boot, including the purple backpack. As he lifts each bag a digital readout on the back of his glove displays the weight, which he checks impassively. Apparently satisfied, he opens the door for me to climb in beside Rachel, who gives me an excited hug then pours me a glass of drink from the bar inside the door. She’s wearing a white and black sports coat and a pencil skirt, leaving me feeling very underdressed in my work slacks and casual jacket. The car is enormous, fitted with two rows of seats facing each other, and wide enough to fit 6 passengers plus more in the front. I turn to wave goodbye to my mum who is doing an impressive job of not crying as she waves back. As the car pulls away I start screaming my goodbyes and my promises to be home soon.

Rachel is happily sipping champagne when my focus comes back inside the car.
“There’s been a change of plans,” she announces, polishing of her glass. “Apparently one of the scientists that’s supposed to be on the train with us is in the hospital, sick, so we only have to make one more stop before Adelaide.” I reach into my bag for my phone and pull up the itinerary files. It still shows four names, among them mine and Rachel’s, scheduled to be driven out from District 3 and taken to Adelaide. After a few seconds the phone flashes with the word ‘Update’ and one of the names, Dr. Barnes, disappears.
“See?” comes a satisfied chirp from the seat next to me. I ignore her and focus on the last name.
“So when are we going to meet this other woman, Dr. May-Lee?”
“The driver said she lives between here and Adelaide, so we’ll pick her up in a couple of hours.”
“Oh, he talks to you, does he?” I try to find the man’s eyes in the mirror, but he’s watching the road with military-strict attention.
My eyes are drawn down by a flickering light as the phone goes into power-saving mode. I follow suit by putting my head back and tuning out the sound of wine-glasses clinking.