I wrote this last night and would appreciate feeback. It's a first pass at the opening to the third book in my trilogy based in a resource-depleted future.
The train pulled into the station with a metal-on-metal screech of brakes. Kitta had been looking out the window, but now she turned to gather up her belongings. Others were doing the same, talking about what remarkably good time the train had made.
“Just last week someone tore up a stretch of track near the river to protest the new water distribution laws.”
“And there was a holdup last month on the Deming line.”
“I don’t know why the government can’t control the raiders.”
“Too busy with water issues. That’s why they leave the outlaws to the mercenaries.”
“And the mercenaries are almost as bad.”
Kitta stood up and tried to shake the creases out of her skirt. Although only sixteen, she knew all about mercenaries. She also knew there would be no trouble on this train. “Joseph sees things,” was how her grandmother had explained it. “And if he says the 3220 is safe, then that’s the train you’re going on.”
Kitta joined the passengers squeezing down the aisle. At the exit she hesitated, scanning the crowd below. Then she saw him—a broad-shouldered man with a weather-creased face that seemed frozen in a permanent scowl. He looked annoyed about something, but Uncle Will always looked that way. This time though, she was pretty sure he really was annoyed. Well, that made two of them.
She stepped off the train and Will came forward to meet her. “How much luggage you got?”
No hello, no questions about her trip. How typical. “Just one trunk.”
“Did Mother put the address on it like I told her to?”
“Yes. And she used the red tag, too.”
“Good. It’ll be delivered, then. Come on.”
“I said come on. Train depot ain’t no place for a girl like you to be hanging around.” He took the heavy satchel from her shoulder. “Besides, Lauren was cooking something when I left, and we’d be rude to make her wait.”
He moved off into the crowd and Kitta followed sullenly. She wanted to at least see her trunk, make sure that it was taken off the train and that the workers knew where to deliver it. But there was never any use arguing with Uncle Will.