Hometown authorities should be alerted... but how could she explain why they were there in the first place? The government would open an investigation and get him in prison without the possibility of returning to his job. He didn't need to be deeper in trouble. There was indeed one trustworthy authority figure, though. Marnie. Nervousness was a luxury no one could afford when a human life was in danger.

    She checked a little clock on the nightstand, a gift from her mother — clocks were one of the few mechanical pieces allowed and were powered by sunlight. Half an hour until the train left.
    No suitcase in hand and still wearing yesterday's clothes, she walked to the station taking short steps. In Hometown, all residents were required to wear government-issued uniforms for mundane activities, one assigned for each day of the week, which means she risked being penalized for showing up without the purple Tuesday uniform — but she wasn't in the mental state that made her afraid of breaking the law.

 

    With free rides for residents, this simple and effective station was purposefully built so everyone had it as close to their house as possible. The wooden structure was spacious, supported by parallel pillars made of an amalgamation of different crystal gemstones. It enjoyed a metal roof that, in summertime, turned one's waiting time into a barbecue simulation: Causing empathy towards the blood sausages and chorizos. At least there were more seats than possible passengers, so the pain could be endured while not making it harder for everyone else.