Into the Dust Storm

by Logan Brookfield

  They both nodded.

  ‘Good, well…using a powerful electronic array in the form of an invisibility cloak, we can make the town hard to see from the ground and air. Invisible to sensors and scopes anyway, and near enough invisible to the eye unless you get up real close. We can do all this without giving out a large electronic footprint, thanks to the ancients’ tech. The great thing about the ancients is that they wiped each other out so quick, they left a lot of their tech intact, ready for us to use.’

  Carl took a sip of his tea. ‘I see, I’ve never heard of that technology before. We were lucky to escape, they wanted to leave Earth and time travel into the future somehow, I didn’t quite understand how. As a leaving present they wanted to destroy anything left on the planet so they could return and start anew. We tried our best to disable their weapon and as we’re still here, I presume we were successful.’

  Elias sat on the edge of the sofa. ‘We were aware of their plan. Not all the details, not the intricate details anyway, but we had spies in their camp. They were going to try and use time dilation to travel long into the future. Time would pass more slowly relative to time here on Earth. They hoped to come back when the planet had healed itself. Now, that plan is all very well and good but the second part of that plan is what worried us. For some reason they felt the need to destroy everything with their weapons, perhaps so they could wipe the slate clean and return to a fresh new world without any of the old hang-ups or residents, and that’s where we had to step in,’ the mayor said, sipping from his cup. ‘We knew we could never defeat them by force alone, we had to use our skills and also have a little bit of luck along the way. That bomb was never going to explode because we disabled it. We also disabled their backup weapon hidden deep in the catacombs. I’ve no problem with them wanting to play with time travel and all the risks that go with it. They can kill themselves as far into the future as they wish, but once they started to plot to destroy everything…we took action.’

  Amy looked at Carl then back at Elias. ‘So what happens now? There’ll be lots of survivors and we won’t be the first heading this way.’

  Elias nodded. ‘You are the first to arrive since the event. There will be others, I’m sure, and we’ll welcome them if they find us. At the moment they’re probably picking through the ruins and enjoying the free supplies that will be scattered around the city. Eventually they’ll get curious and start to fan out and we’ll catch whoever comes our way,’ he said, placing his hands on his knees. ‘But that’s enough talk for today. I’m sure you are dead beat, so why don’t you two feel free to use the facilities here and get yourselves a hot bath. You can use any of the guest rooms upstairs.’

  ‘Are we free to leave if we wish?’ Amy asked.

  Elias smiled. ‘Of course, you’re my guests not prisoners, but there is a dust storm coming so I’d suggest you stay the night. The gates are also locked for the night at sunset and armed guards patrol the wall but don’t let that alarm you, it’s for our protection and not to keep you in.’

  Carl looked at Amy and took her hand. It had been a long hard road getting here and the people they’d met had been, on the whole, friendly so far. They also could both do with some food and water and the thought of a hot bath and clean sheets was very appealing.

  ‘Thank you, Elias, we’ll stay the night and have a think in the morning what to do. Thank you for your offer of hospitality. Just one last question if I may. Max looks like someone I worked for back in the Crystal City called Hugh, are they brothers?’ Carl said.

  Elias placed his cup down slowly on its saucer. ‘There’s a lot to learn about Hope Point and the people that live and work here,’ he said standing up. ‘But I’ve got some urgent business to attend to and I’m sure you are both very tired, so if you don’t mind, we’ll answer all your questions tomorrow.’

  Chapter Seven

  The incinerator sat within a large hangar, near the south perimeter fence. Its location meant that the natural southerly air current tended to carry the thick black smoke and the associated smells outside of the town, but occasionally blew them inwards creating a murky smog and black ash-filled rain. Incineration was the quickest and most efficient way of reducing the town’s mounting waste pile to a more manageable size. The brick chimney stack was the tallest thing in Hope Point and could be seen from near enough everywhere in the town as it billowed out plumes of smoke every other day of the week.

  Vincent used the spanner to loosen then remove the nuts that held the cover plate in place on the side of the furnace. ‘Last one is always the worst,’ he said as he placed the nut in his pocket. The plate came away revealing the pipes and wires within. He placed a hand inside and felt the rush of air escaping from the hole in a rubber pipe. ‘There you are, you little devil, causing me all sorts of problems.’

  The furnace within the incineration unit was a throwback from the ancients. A crude machine but one that did its job better than anything Elias and the town’s residents had managed to build. That is, as long as it didn’t malfunction and break down.

  Vincent took a small square patch, squeezed glue onto the back of it and stuck it over the hole, stopping the escaping air and returning the air pressure to normal parameters. He tapped a nearby gauge with his fingers as the needle slowly moved into the green zone. ‘Right then, just takes a bit of tender loving care and the old girl is as good as new,’ he said while fixing the cover plate back into place.

  ‘You did a good job, Vincent, you’ve always been good with your hands,’ Max said, forcing a smile.

  ‘Well, I try my best and that’s all I can do, it’s really born out of necessity. If we don’t fix this stuff we’ll lose it forever. This thing was built to last but it’s taking more maintenance as the years go by. I think Elias wants to build something better. He showed me a rough sketch of some ideas but, as usual, lack of materials and know-how holds us back.’

  Max nodded. ‘Elias is a bright man, he has lots of good ideas.’

  ‘True, when he’s not breaking my balls, that is.’

  ‘How hot does this thing get?’ Max asked.

  Vincent looked up in the air. ‘Damn hot when we can maintain air pressure. You can’t beat quality old tech.’

  Max looked down at the floor. ‘Do you think if I go and talk to him we can work it out?’

  ‘I’m sorry, no; you know the rules as well as I do. I wish there was another way but there really isn’t,’ Vincent said, wiping his hands with a rag. ‘Without rules where would we be? It would be a free-for -all with people creating havoc everywhere they went.’

  ‘I understand.’ Max sighed. ‘You know, I like it this time of year. The air seems cooler, particularly at night, and the sun doesn’t burn quite so hot. Sometimes I think the seasons are returning. It must have been wonderful to have four distinct seasons. Imagine what it was like to have blankets of snow covering the land.’

  They both looked at the floor for what seemed like ages; the silence was almost deafening. ‘OK…it’s time,’ Vincent said.

  Max closed his eyes and slowly nodded. ‘Others have done much worse than me. I’m not asking for forgiveness, just another chance, that’s all.’

  Vincent grabbed the furnace door handle and pulled it slowly open with a loud metallic creak. ‘I wish there was another way.’

  Max slowly walked into the black chamber. He looked at the floor, which was a large grate and designed to allow ash to fall through and be collected below. Looking up, he noticed the flame jet nozzles that covered the walls high and low. The smell was overpowering and nothing like he’d ever experienced. ‘Goodbye Vincent,’ he said.

  ‘Goodbye Max, I’m sorry it had to end like this,’ he said as he closed the heavy door and sealed it by turning the locking wheel.

  In the middle of the door was a small circular window, about the size of a fist and located head height. Max looked out and watched Vincent as he was prepping the furnace and checking the dials and gauges. The chamber started to hiss as air
rushed in and Max clasped his hands in front of him and tried to remember his mother. The memories were faded, so distant that he could barely recall them. What upset him most was the difficulty in recalling what her face looked like. Each time he tried he could only remember fragments. Hazy recollections, more like remembering bits of a film than real life.

  Vincent turned the valve to start the mixture of air and fuel. The air pressure was holding, which meant the repair had worked. He gripped the ignition lever and watched the gauges closely.

  Max remembered one thing; it was something that he could always recall. One night when he’d woken from a bad dream, his mother had come into his bedroom and placed her hand on his forehead. She started to sing a lullaby to him then ended with a prayer. He couldn’t remember all the words but only a segment, which he now repeated quietly. ‘Hail Mary full of grace…hail Mary full of grace…hail Mary full of grace...’

  Vincent pulled the ignition lever and the interior of the furnace erupted in flames. The chamber made cracking and popping sounds as the intense heat tested the thick welded plates that made up the outer skin. The fire burnt so hot that Vincent had to shield his eyes from the bright light that escaped through the viewing window. Black smoke churned out of the chimney above, throwing out ash that settled like grey snowflakes.

  Chapter Eight

  The hot tub steamed as Amy dipped a toe in to test the temperature. This was the first bath with hot clean water that she’d ever had and she felt a little guilty using so much clean water to wash with. Years of struggling to find enough to eat and drink had wired her brain to see such a large amount of bathing water as wasteful. She almost reached for her canteen to top it up before remembering that the town had plenty of clean running water. Everything that anyone would want seemed to be here, but things still didn’t feel right.

  The bathroom was small but pleasantly decorated with white tiling on the walls and wooden flooring. A large silver-framed ornate mirror hung over a crisp white washbasin and fresh flowers sat in a glass vase on the window ledge and gave off a pleasant perfume.

  As she immersed herself in the liquid she could feel its heat engulf her like a hot blanket. It felt relaxing but also invigorating as years of dirt and grime left her body.

  There was a single knock at the door and Carl walked in. ‘Fancy some company?’

  ‘Of course, why don’t you jump in and relax with me,’ Amy replied.

  Carl perched on the edge of the toilet seat. ‘I feel too agitated to relax. Maybe I’ll bathe another time.’

  Amy washed her arms and shoulders. ‘It feels so good. I don’t think I’ve ever bathed in water so clean and hot before.’

  Carl looked around and grabbed a nearby sponge. He dipped it in the water and gently massaged Amy’s shoulders. ‘I could get quite used to watching you bathe,’ he said.

  Amy leaned forward, allowing the sponge to travel down her back. ‘You never realise just how wonderful hot water and clean sheets are until you don’t have them.’

  ‘Thing is, we never had them to begin with so it’s all new to us. The novelty would soon wear off,’ Carl said.

  Amy placed her head in her hands.

  ‘What’s up?’ Carl asked.

  She sighed heavily. ‘Just been thinking a lot about Mum lately. I miss her so much. I wonder if she survived and if she did, what she’s doing now. Is she thinking of me perhaps, just like I’m thinking of her? Does she stay awake at night remembering how it was? Thinking back to the days when the family was together?’

  ‘It didn’t look like anyone could have survived that inferno,’ Carl said, squeezing the water from the sponge. ‘The whole town seemed to be on fire. I hope Mum did survive, I hope she managed to get away from the flames. I can’t bear the thought that she suffered.’

  ‘All we have is each other,’ Amy said.

  ‘I’ll take that any day over the alternative. If I have you I have everything anyway.’

  ‘That’s sweet,’ Amy said. ‘I do love you.’

  Carl stopped with the sponge. ‘Really, that’s nice to know. You’ve never said that before.’

  ‘Yes, I know, things have been just so crazy lately we’ve hardly had a chance to think let alone anything else. But I do love you, and I just wanted to say it now in case I can’t in the future for some reason.’

  Carl continued to wash her back. ‘Why wouldn’t you be able to? We’ve found a settlement, haven’t we? I’m not sure it’s Sanctuary but it sure is better than where we came from.’

  ‘Things just don’t feel right. I can’t put my finger on it,’ she said, cupping water in her hands and washing her face.

  Carl nodded his head. ‘It’s certainly not what I expected. But I think we should give it a chance. We don’t have to stay here anyway if we don’t like it. Let’s just get some rest and fill our bellies and maybe see what else is out there when we feel ready to leave.’

  ‘Do you think we’ll ever leave?’

  ‘Of course we will, if we want to,’ Carl said, sitting up straight. ‘We can do anything we want to, we’re free now.’

  Amy nodded. ‘You know, when I was much younger, Mum would tell me stories and I used to think they were true. She would tell them in such detail that the characters would almost spring to life. She used to tell me of a princess who lived in a tower. She had long golden hair and would sing beautifully as her voice drifted through the nearby forest. One day a prince heard her singing and climbed up the tower on her golden hair, but fell and landed in a thorn bush which blinded him. Sometime later he heard her voice again and was drawn to where she lived deep in the forest. They embraced and she cried, and her tears cured his blindness and he saw her once again.’

  ‘That’s a nice story,’ Carl said.

  ‘It always fascinated me. I never could work out if it was real or a fairy tale. Was it someone mum knew or was it just a silly story handed down through the generations. Mum would tell this story often and each time there would be more details like the colour of her dress and the way the handsome prince was dressed.’

  Carl smiled and Amy held her nose as she disappeared under the water.

  Chapter Nine

  Janelle sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the plate of food and the drink that had been prepared for her. A mixture of rations and leftovers and a half glass of water. The other three crew members, all bridge crew and lower ranks than herself, lay nearby sleeping on makeshift beds. They still hadn’t spoken although they did seem to comprehend the situation and acknowledged her request for them to rest. The whereabouts of the captain of the Frobisher was unknown; he was presumed lost with everyone else.

  She picked up a small mirror that lay on a table nearby and examined her face, running the tips of her fingers around her eye sockets, either side of her mouth and down her neck. She had been missing for 50 years and hadn’t aged a day. In fact she looked younger than her 34 years, her skin seemed smoother and her naturally black hair was missing the few strands of grey she had noticed before launch. By all accounts she should be dead, but she was still alive and well, right back where it all started with no memory of what happened or how she managed to make it back to Earth.

  Janelle lay back and closed her eyes for a few moments. The feeling of cold had gone and her body seemed more able to regulate its temperature. She’d cleaned most of the slime from her body and the standard-issue Black Hat jumpsuit fitted OK. Her body twitched as she drifted in and out of sleep, and each time she woke she could remember a tiny fragment of that fateful day. It might be a smell or a feeling, rather than a clear memory but she felt like her subconscious held the answers deep within the electrical impulses racing through the millions of connected neurons.

  ‘Do not attempt a rescue, all hope is lost…leave now while you can…do not approach,’ Captain O’Connor barked over the speaker.

  Janelle stood on the bridge, staring at the dot on the edge of the pulsar.

  Another warning crackled over the radio. ‘All is lo
st, all the crew have gone…do not attempt a rescue…leave while you still can. The gates of hell are open…leave now…hurry.’

  Janelle woke suddenly, feeling ripped from the dream. She sat on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands as her heart thumped in her chest as she gulped for air, waiting for the wave of panic to pass. She couldn’t close her eyes without being instantly bombarded with flashbacks. Maybe it was her mind’s way of dealing with the trauma or a way of accessing the hidden truths buried deep inside her.

  One of the sleeping crew members coughed and Janelle looked over. A young communications officer called Smith rolled onto his back and started to breathe heavily.

  ‘Smith, are you OK?’ Janelle asked as she squatted down next to him placing a hand on his arm. His breathing became more erratic and the other two crew members also showed signs of choking. ‘Help, please…somebody,’ Janelle called out.

  Smith started to convulse, his body shaking uncontrollably as foam and blood erupted from his mouth. Janelle rocked back on her heels, landing on her back, staring wide-eyed as her remaining crew fought for life. A soldier rushed in and knelt down by Smith. He rolled him on his side in an attempt to clear his airways but the foam and blood kept coming. Smith’s convulsing slowly stopped as his breathing slowed and eventually stopped.

  The soldier took the pulse of the three crew members. ‘They’ve all gone, I’m sorry.’

  Janelle sat there stunned, feeling numb. She tried to open her mouth and speak but no words would come out. She felt crushed and all alone in this nightmare future.

  Doctor Russell ran in and knelt down beside Smith. ‘What happened?’

  ‘I just found them struggling to breathe and foaming at the mouth,’ the soldier said.

  The doctor held Smith’s wrist and felt for a pulse, then pulled out a stethoscope and checked his chest before moving on to the other two. ‘They’re all dead, it looks like they choked on something, or maybe reacted to some kind of poison,’ she said. ‘Did they eat anything or show any signs beforehand?’