Kimber

by L K Hingey

  Kimber looked Tristan in the eyes, her gaze serious. He wondered what she was reliving in her nightmares.

  “It was so dark down there, Tristan,” Kimber whispered, so painfully that Tristan felt himself cringe in empathy. Her eyes went distant and dull as she continued. “So much death. Not just of the scientists and soldiers. Obviously, I feel for them too, but at least their choices had been theirs to make. The babies who had been experimented on though, they were killed off without ever having a voice. And the reports wouldn’t even call them babies; they called them ‘subjects’ and at most, ‘fetuses.’”

  She began to speak faster, and Tristan stayed quiet, letting her words tumble out. “They might have grown up to be healthy, peaceful, and happy. They might have grown up to raise babies of their own. Maybe they would have become doctors. Maybe they would have grown up to fight against genetic experimentation and fetus extermination. Hell, maybe they would have become scientists and soldiers. Who knows? But the choice would have been their own to make. Just like my mother had been free to make her own choices.”

  Kimber was surprised by the vehemence of her own words. They stung, but it felt better to let them out than hold them in. She looked sheepishly at Tristan who was still patiently listening.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I haven’t exactly processed everything. I feel all scattered and confused. I know we would not be here without their sacrifices. It’s just... easier not to think about it yet.”

  Tristan reached for her hand and squeezed. “None of us envy the spot that you were put in Kimber. I don’t know what was down there, but I know enough to be shocked and angry too. I am here for whatever you want to, or don’t want to, tell me. Even if it ends up just being a crazy ramble.” His words were kind, and he threw in his signature wink in an attempt to make her feel better. “All I know is that while you were down there, my mind too was in a very, very bad place. It made me realize what stress can do to the body physiologically and psychologically. Don’t feel bad about anything. You did nothing wrong. We are in this together.”

  Kimber offered him a weak smile. “When I was down there, especially when the power started to drop out, I was beyond freaked out. Knowing that you were waiting for me at the top was the one thing that helped me stay focused. That was my light in the darkness. And right now... I think it still is.” Her words came out measured, as if she were unsure if they would make sense. When she was certain that Tristan had at least understood her intent, Kimber smiled widely.

  “Okay. So, since I’ve successfully spoiled breakfast,” she said with a small laugh, “shall we hit the dusty trail?”

  Tristan was still holding her hand and kissed it with impish grin. “All I really wanted to do with breakfast anyhow was drink it, so thanks for helping me fast forward to that step.” He stood up immediately and tilted the can to his lips. He was not exaggerating. He drank more than half of the juice in a few gulps before handing the can to Kimber. She laughed and drank a few much smaller sips. It was thick and refreshing.

  When she had had her fill, she passed the can back to Tristan, who drained it. They went into the lounge to gear up, moving hastily to meet the beckoning call of the road. Kimber, who had used her shemagh as a blanket in the night, coiled it around her head and peered out at Tristan, who was doing the same. When they were ready to depart, they looked over everything, already missing the posh elegance of Sonora’s travel station.

  At the door, Kimber rose onto her toes and placed a kiss on Tristan’s cheek. He beamed down at her. The morning had been perfect. He did not love that they had such a grave cloud looming over them, but since it was, he was much more comfortable talking about it than not. He wanted Kimber to be able to rely on and confide in him, and he was happy that she felt like she could, even if she could only manage a little right now.

  The pair faced south and eased onto I65, where they settled into a jog. Their packs were cinched up tight, and the horizons looked clear. The scenery once again blurred into monotony as their minds homed in on the next challenge: the Aurorean’s collective decision regarding how to proceed with the council. One meeting may be all they would get to try to win over the heart of Inanna. Kimber and Tristan wove between the familiar chunks of road debris, snaking their way towards their brothers and sisters... towards home.

  Chapter XXI

  Today’s borealis was tinted green, giving Kimber and Tristan an uneasy feeling as they departed the sophisticated travel station and resumed their southbound route. Their packs bulged but their backs did not ache, and their feet were sore but not in great pain. It seemed as if their bodies were becoming accustomed to the long days of endurance exertion. Something seemed to hang in the air though, that made the pair nervous. Tristan was in front like usual, concentrating on picking through the superhighway’s wreckage.

  It did not take them long to intersect their first marker of the day, Highway 31, where they would be turning off the big road and bearing slightly southwest. They were on a high plateau, and before they veered off, had a clear view due south on I65. In the distance was one of the long, automated trains in the center of the massive highway. It sat there in its destitution, looking like an abandoned space shuttle, rusting away under the sun. Tristan and Kimber stopped running to gaze out over the lowland.

  “Do you feel that? Something in the air?” Kimber asked, straining her eyes over the red rocks and sand.

  “Yeah. I do,” Tristan confessed reluctantly. He had been trying to ignore the warning signs, hoping he was just being paranoid.

  The Auroreans usually were not wrong when they felt disturbances. The best way the Auroras could describe it, was that it was like sensing a change in the charge of the air. Or perhaps they were sensing changes in pressure regarding atmospheric fluctuations. They were never quite sure how they could tell, but it seemed to hold true that they could feel the larger storm systems brewing. And since they both felt something, Kimber and Tristan knew well enough to listen to their bodies.

  “Well,” Tristan said looking in a 360 around him. “My best guess is that it’s a south moving storm.”

  “I hope so. That will give us a little extra travel time.” Kimber looked around uneasily. If they were not so desperate to get back, they could have considered hunkering down in one of the train cars below the plateau.

  “We probably have a solid half of a day before it hits. What would you like to do?” Tristan asked eyeing the train warily. He met Kimber’s defiant look and shook his head with laughter.

  “Alright, alright. Let’s make it to the next town. Onwards it is,” Tristan nodded. He was less enthusiastic than Kimber but did not want to lose an entire day of travel either.

  The pair turned away from I65 and onto the smaller road. They moved swiftly and steadily, Kimber taking a turn on point. She would occasionally look back to check on Tristan and sneak a peek at the northern skyline behind him. His pace remained strong and steady, and behind him loomed no ominous clouds of dust. Kimber also scanned for water as they ran but found none. This made her more uneasy than the storm because she knew they would be feeling the effects of dehydration soon.

  Keeping such a fast pace got them to the town of Upton in just over an hour. There was still no sign of activity on the horizons. Kimber and Tristan passed by the familiar sights of the tiny town and slowed to a walk.

  “We need to find water,” Tristan said, his breath heaving slightly.

  “Yeah, I’ve been looking, but I don’t think we’re supposed to cross a river again until the one in Bonnieville.” Kimber squinted into the windows of the shadowy buildings. “Want to stop to search, or do you want to keep pressing?”

  Tristan recognized the apprehensive tone in her voice. He knew for his sake she was taking finding water seriously. There was still no visual indication of foul weather, although they could feel it even stronger than before. He knew they had roughly eleven miles to go to get to Bonnieville’s Bacon river. Tristan contemplated. “Let’s press on. I
f we run hard, eleven miles should only take us two hours. I can survive until then. We need to put tracks down. This storm’s going to be a big one.”

  Kimber nodded in agreement. She could feel its size. A storm that displaced enough energy for them to have felt it for this long without seeing any indication of it, would undoubtedly be a monster. She promised not to kill Tristan with the pace and took her place on point again. He smiled to himself, struggling to keep up once she settled into a healthy jog. This girl will be the death of me, he thought with a smirk.

  Steadily, they snaked south and westward, passing through valleys, over rolling hills, and across fields of stone. The sky glistened overhead, shiny in its sickly green hue. An hour passed by, and then a second. Finally, Bonnieville shimmered into view like a mirage on the horizon.

  “Tristan!” Kimber called happily, pointing his attention towards the town in the distance. She looked back over her shoulder and finally saw it: the cloud of red blurring the Earth and sky. It looked like a normal windstorm, save for its sheer breadth. Kimber stopped dead in her tracks and swiveled around, repeating Tristan’s name much less jovially.

  Tristan groaned and caught up, knowing what he would see behind him. When he turned around, he sharply inhaled a breath of air. The storm stretched out across the skyline as if it were a viper angrily displaying its lethal hood before it lashed out.

  “Well, at least we know we weren’t just being paranoid,” Tristan shrugged as he scanned the horizon.

  “Yeah, no joke. How long do you think we have?” Kimber asked gravely.

  “Depends. A storm that size is probably moving faster than normal. But it’s still super far out. A couple hours maybe?”

  Kimber thought quietly and looked back at the town. Beyond Bonnieville was the Hartford Road Department another seven miles down the road.

  “Let’s go find that creek,” she murmured and eased back into a jog.

  They crossed the river a few minutes later, and Kimber quickly unslung her pack. Out came the water bottles and the filter, which she handed directly to Tristan while she pulled out the map. Tristan got to work filling up the bottles, knowing what she was going to propose before the words came out of her mouth.

  “We have less than seven miles to go to get to that Hartford Road Station that we stopped at the first night. That’s just over an hour away. What do you think? We could make that, right?”

  “Kimber,” Tristan said softly. “We both know how dangerous it is to get stuck out in the open in a storm. And this storm’s magnitude is going to be off the charts.”

  “Yeah, but it’s still so far away. And now, we have these,” Kimber grinned and pulled her shemagh around her face so that only her blue eyes gleamed out from behind the delicate fabric. Tristan chuckled and could not help but think, especially out here in the desert, that she looked like an exotic Arabian princess. He handed her a bottle of water and proceeded to drink his, refill it, and drain it again before she was done. He filtered a third bottle of water and downed it before refilling both bottles one last time.

  “Let’s save these for dinner. If we make to the Hartford department without dying, we can look forward to a meal of beef stroganoff and blueberry cobbler.” He handed her a bottle to tuck into her belt, and he did the same. His stomach was growling irritably, and Tristan hushed it sternly. Time was of the essence. He wanted to get to the station as soon they possibly could. “Know how you were holding back on your pace before? Yeah, don’t do that this time. I’ll keep up.”

  Kimber set off at a steady pace that slowly increased in intensity. Tristan’s heart pounded in his chest as he tried to even out his breathing. When he would catch himself starting to slow, he looked behind him at the swelling mushroom cloud of sand and grit. He checked his watch obsessively as if it would make the time go by faster, but it did not. Ten minutes crept by, followed by twenty, followed by thirty. Kimber’s pace did not waiver. He looked over his shoulder and saw the monstrosity now on their heels.

  It was the meanest looking storm Tristan had ever seen. The midday sun was at its brightest, lighting up the edges of the cloud in a red halo of burnt glitter. The rolls of dust seemed to take shape as the cloud of sand steamed towards them. Forty minutes passed by. The energy in front of the squall line hit them before the wind did, and Tristan felt like he was being pushed by an invisible arm as the shockwave overtook them.

  The boost was welcome, and Tristan felt like he was flying. Kimber still did not look back. She drove on as if she were solely responsible for them making it to the shelter. Tristan wondered, which would not be for the last time, if the dingy little road station would even be able to stand up to a storm this strong. He forced his mind to quiet and focused on his body. Breathe, he told his lungs. Pump, he encouraged his heart. They were getting close.

  Fifty minutes passed by, and they saw the split off from Highway 31 back onto I65. They really were close now. Tristan felt the wind start to stir on the back of his neck. He rejected the tingling and cooling sensation, knowing it was not a pleasurable breeze but instead a deadly maelstrom with the power, and intent, to kill them. The Auroreans may have been hardy, but they were not impervious to hurricane force winds.

  Kimber also felt the lifting sensation of the wind and glanced back over her shoulder. Her eyes went wide at seeing the storm so close-up, the red demon hellbent on overtaking them. She caught Tristan’s gaze and yelled as confidently as she could from beneath her shemagh, “We are almost there!”

  The haze started to move into Tristan’s peripherals. “Brace yourself!” he shouted above the now whistling wind. He hurtled himself forward towards Kimber who was reaching her hand out backwards. They linked hands as the first wave of sand hit their backs, the ferocious updrafts catching their buoyant packs and almost shoving them to the ground. The face masks protected their cheeks and necks, but their eyes were left bare to the elements. Kimber blinked wildly into the engulfing cloud.

  “The highway!” she screamed above the noise of the wind. It had been growing steadily and sounded like a freight train around them. Kimber almost cried with relief when they stumbled over the Cub Run Highway. She knew they could make it now. The pair cut west and though it was only a short distance to the building, they were now fighting a crosswind. Had the winds been blowing in from the south, Kimber doubted they would have made the last hundred feet. They hunched over and kept their profiles low as they inched towards the door.

  Tristan tried to open the door as little as possible. The wind cackled at his efforts and caught the door like a sail, ripping it open and then sheering it off its hinges. Tristan grabbed Kimber and pushed her into the now gaping doorway. Once they got into the building, they crawled away from the howling doorway and collapsed.

  “See?” said Kimber, panting above the roaring of the wind. “I told you our scarves would protect us.” She waved the tassels of her shemagh up and down and laughed in nervous exhaustion. “Good find.”

  “You sure do like significant emotional events,” Tristan wheezed out a chuckle. “Don’t you?”

  Kimber grinned and as she lay, she unclipped herself from her pack. Tristan was still flailing on the ground, connected to his bag, by the time Kimber dragged herself over to him and helped him loosen his gear. They rolled over to separate themselves from their equipment, too tired to stand. Kimber, who was perpendicular to Tristan, rested her head on his stomach and sighed.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “I think so,” Tristan mumbled. “Just really, really hungry.”

  “I can tell. Your stomach’s growling louder than the wind,” Kimber said and pulled herself into a seated position. “Don’t move,” she instructed.

  On hands and knees Kimber dragged the packs over to the makeshift living room. The roof that had fallen in half on the back half of the building creaked and moaned, threatening to lift off entirely. It was holding, at least for now, and Kimber dug around for the dinner pouches. She ripped into the plastic and pour
ed in filtered water. The meals wouldn’t be hot, but they would be tasty. She let the packets of beef stroganoff and blueberry cobbler steep and crawled back over to Tristan.

  He had not moved a muscle, smiling when her face popped into view above his.

  “I knew we could make it. That pace was incredible. I have dinner steeping over on the coffee table, and I have something for dessert!” Kimber declared loudly above the thundering of the storm.

  Tristan’s ears perked up, and he pulled himself into a seated position. “Something for dessert, huh?”

  Kimber shot him an amused look and drew a chocolate bar from the drawer she had found the stash of s’mores supplies in.

  “Just in case we were headed back this way!” she laughed and tossed him the bar.

  Tristan’s eyes now perked up, and he tore into the bar. He took a bite and blissfully sank back down.

  “Worth it,” he said, mimicking her comment the night before. Kimber smiled at him and glanced out the door. The storm was raging against the metal building.

  “How fast do you think those winds are?” she yelled standing back from the doorway a bit.

  Tristan got up and joined her. “Well, they’re getting stronger, no doubt about that. I’d say we were in seventy mile an hour winds. Now, I don’t know, maybe a hundred?”

  Kimber looked out. “I wonder how long it’ll last.” They had seen storms last for days, but those were generally the more static, slow-moving kind.

  “I just hope it won’t outlast this building.” Tristan’s tone was serious as he eyed the roof and metal around them.

  Kimber grabbed his hand to take his mind off the questionable integrity of the building and led him to the little living room. The dehydrated food had had ample time to soak in the water and was plump and moist again. She fished the forks out of her bag and handed one to Tristan. He dug in, appreciating every bite. Kimber took a few bites of delicious cobbler and realized they would still be starving after the two pouches. She felt around in Tristan’s backpack and pulled out one of the meals.