Baccano! - Volume 3 - Chapter 8

EPILOGUE

THE RAIL TRACER

“Excuse me, sir. Are you Mr. Gandor?”

“I am. What is it?”

A station employee approached Luck and handed him a single envelope. After they read its contents, Keith and his two younger brothers left the station.

When they did, on his way out, Berga apologized to Firo:

“Sorry, Firo. It sounds like Claire’s waiting outside. We’ll be back.”

The man was waiting in the corner of an alley.

“Claire, you’re the conductor. What’re you doin’ out here?”

“I’m not Claire anymore.”

Ignoring Berga’s question, he just spoke about himself, briefly.

“All right, let’s go. Who should I kill first? I only managed to get a little light exercise last night, and I’m feeling rusty. I want to do a job where I can go all-out for once.”

Saying this, Claire—who’d changed clothes—took the lead and started walking. Keith and the others were mildly appalled, but they followed him and set off down the alley.

“Let’s get this finished up fast. I’ve got somebody to look for after this. It’s somebody who might marry me.”

At Claire’s words, the three brothers looked at one another.

“Wha—? Did you ask some total stranger to marry you again?!”

“Close.”

“Don’t gimme ‘close,’ you moron! Just how many dolls do you think you’ve gotten to give you the brush-off that way, huh?!”

Berga sounded disgusted, but Claire answered him without seeming the least bit flustered.

“Now, hang on. I don’t treat it like a pickup, and I’m not joking. I’m being serious, so there’s no problem. And I’m positive I’ve gotten dumped up till now because there’s an even better girl in my future. After all, this world is—”

“—‘designed to work in my favor,’ was it?”

Luck had probably heard those words several hundred times before. He’d responded with a simple question.

“That’s right,” Claire continued. “Anyway, I might get a good answer this time. Besides, if that one doesn’t work out, I found another peach. If I get dumped this time, I think I’ll try my luck with her next.”

“You’re as faithless as ever, too.”

“Applesauce! I’ve never two-timed anyone, not even once. I’ve never gone out with a girl in the first place. I tell her I’m in love then and there, and if she says no, I move right on to the next one. If I get a yes, I’ll be true to that girl the whole way. There’s no problem with that.”

In response to Claire—who’d delivered what was, in a way, a sound argument—Luck sighed, half in resignation.

“…I wish Firo would take a page from your book with regard to energy.”

At the unexpected mention of his friend’s name, Claire smiled nostalgically.

“Firo, huh? I’d like to see him. What about him?”

“He’s been living with a girl he fancies for more than a year, but he hasn’t told her he loves her or even kissed her yet.”

“That’s nuts… Is he actually human?”

Despite Claire’s astonishment, his pace didn’t slow at all.

“In any case, Claire. You really shouldn’t trust the sort of woman who accepts an offer of marriage out of the blue.”

Claire’s response was to argue about the part of it that didn’t matter:

“Claire’s dead. Or he will be on paper, anyway, as far as the government’s concerned.”

He thought he’d come off sounding cool, but Luck jabbed him with a practiced comeback:

“If you’re officially dead, you won’t be able to marry that woman, you know.”

At that, Claire stopped in his tracks, then turned around.

“Crap. What do I do? How much does it cost to buy an identity?”

“You aren’t making any sense, Claire. In that case, what should we call you from now on?”

As Claire started walking again, he spoke casually:

“Well, maybe Vino… Or, you could call me the Rail Tracer.”

“Lame.”

In one of New York’s back alleys, Berga and Claire began a violent brawl. Even as Keith watched them, his thoughts were with the struggle that was bound to grow fiercer from here on out.

This brawl was probably the last peaceful sight they’d see for a while. Still silent, Keith continued to gaze at the fight.