They jumped.
Killian hesitated, but she was already moving. Her momentum pulled him down with her.
Oof!Not the best landing or the softest, but since they ended up inside the tram the way she planned instead of under it, she considered it a win.
The smell, though, was worse close up. Rancid food and things she didn’t want to think about.
Releasing Killian’s hand so she could ready herself for the next step, she missed the contact as soon as it was gone.
“We need to get to the side of the car.” She spoke loud enough to be heard over the rattle of the tracks.
“We have to go through thegarbage?” Killian gagged.
Oh, sweet spoiled rich boy.
It took both hands to work her way toward the edge of the metal car, practically swimming through the garbage. The surface shifted constantly and crossing it required slow and cautious movements.
With each move, Dizzie tried not to think of all the horrible things under her. As kids, they’d come up with the scariest possibilities. Bodies of Tremaine enemies had been the worst.
She shuddered. It still was.
No signs marked the transition from Tremaine headquarters to garbage tunnel, but the sounds around them changed. “I think we’re outside of headquarters,” she told him.
They’d made it to the outside edge of the car.
“What now?” Killian was inches away from her. Like her, he’d crawled on his hands and knees over the rotting mess, his distaste written on his face.
She was surprised and impressed how he did what needed to be done.
“It’ll dump us in a landfill a couple minutes away from headquarters. We have to jump when the tram starts to tilt. We need to clear the rest of the garbage, instead of being buried under it.”
“Are you sure about this?” His disgruntled tone told her exactly how much he disliked her plan.
“Too late now.” She scanned their surroundings, terrified at the possibility that there had been changes to the system. It would suck if the dump had been concreted over. “On three.”
The car passed a familiar landmark. “Get ready,” she told her reluctant shadow.
She slid into position, her hands on the railing and her feet braced best she could.
“One.” With a deep breath, she drew her legs up and perched on the metal rail in a deep squat.
Next to her, Killian copied her movements with a groan of pain. No time to ask if he was okay. They had to move quickly.
“Two.”
She tensed.
“Three!”
Something caught her eye as she sprang into action. A ledge.
Making minute adjustments to her body position—the way she did on the bike—Dizzie aimed for it instead of the garbage below.
The ledge was farther away than she’d anticipated. Her hands slammed onto the flat surface and she scrambled for purchase. Her fingers dug into the shelf and her nails scratched along it as she started to slip.
Killian hit the garbage pile with a curse. The pounding of her heart and the rush of blood in her ears drowned out whatever he said.
Abs and arms straining, she pulled her knees toward her torso. She had to stop the rocking that threatened to send her into the dump below.
