Into the Dust Storm

by Logan Brookfield

  Edmond slowly opened the door and climbed in. He glanced in the side mirror, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the confused guard as the engine started in a cloud of smoke. He engaged the gearstick and slowly pulled away, making his way down the street. As he approached the gate he could see the four guards down a side street, lining up a group of four men against a wall. They doubled over and fell onto the floor after a short burst of automatic gunfire.

  One guard looked up and waved at the truck. ‘Hey, wait there, we’ll be right over.’

  Edmond pulled up at the gate and glanced in his rearview mirror. The confused guard further down the road was now running in his direction waving his arms. He opened the truck door and stepped out, but as he did the two machine gun turrets swung his way so he jumped back in. He looked up to the top of the wall and watched as the guns swung away. The truck must be shielding him somehow. He looked left as the four soldiers now made their way back to the gate. There was no time; he had to access the gate release controls. He reversed the truck and manoeuvred so that he could reach the controls by leaning out of the window rather than getting out.

  ‘Stop right there, do not touch those controls,’ a guard said, pointing his weapon.

  Edmond looked up as the gun turrets swung back towards him. He reached as far as he could and pulled the gate release lever. To the right was a key switch and as he turned it a panel of lights lit up. He pulled the lever again and the gates started to open.

  Shots started to pepper the truck and each one made a metallic clank as it landed. But the truck’s armour plating and reinforced tyres stood up to the high-calibre assault rifles. Edmond ducked as the side window shattered covering him in shards of glass. The gate was open just enough and he stamped on the accelerator causing the chunky wheels to spin in the dirt. As they gained traction the truck started to move and he now cleared the gate. More shots hit the back of the truck but Edmond was now moving fast away from Hope Point.

  He sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes as a hand grabbed his shoulder. The truck swerved and nearly left the road as Edmond grappled with the guard. Edmond stood on the brakes causing the droid to crash through the windscreen and tumble down the road in front of him. The guard staggered to his feet as Edmond accelerated and smashed into the guard killing him instantly.

  Edmond’s heart now banged in his chest and he tried to slow his breathing down with long deep breaths. He looked at his hand, which trembled, and tried to keep his feet on the pedals even though his legs felt like jelly. He looked over his shoulder and checked that no more guards had made it on board and then glanced in the rearview mirror as Hope Point became nothing more than columns of smoke rising in the distance.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Carl stood by the wall and glanced back at the town, which was now a sea of flames. Every building appeared to be on fire and the night sky turned orange from the burning embers that danced their way skywards like fireflies. In front of him was a thin metallic service ladder, reaching up into the darkness. Barely big enough to take his foot, it was a temporary structure, left there after several weeks of maintenance carried on the town’s walls.

  The recent intake of quality food and water had increased his strength and he found it easy to climb further up the wall. Just a few more steps and he was nearing the top. He paused for a moment, glancing back. The high vantage point revealed the scale of the town, which was much bigger than he’d previously thought. Flashes of gunfire lit up the streets below. The only person who had mattered since leaving the Crystal City was now there somewhere, lying cold and lifeless together with his unborn child. For a brief moment in time he had everything but it slipped through his fingers into the dust like everything else. Carl felt desperate and alone and briefly considered rejoining the fight, but it wouldn’t help Amy now. The only hope for everyone was his mission and he reached for the top rung of the ladder.

  The bullet whizzed past Carl’s head, so close he could feel the disturbance of air as it missed him by an inch. He looked back to see Vincent levelling his weapon to take another shot. Carl scrambled over the wall and into the dark abyss. He couldn’t stand on top of the structure as he’d be picked off so he lowered himself down, hanging onto the top of the wall with his fingertips. Another shot created a shower of sparks and a heavy metallic thud as it hit the top of the wall. Carl looked down; it was too dark to see what was below. If nothing broke his fall he could easily be killed or at least break his legs. Being incapacitated now would be the end for him and he had to take a leap of faith. He manoeuvred to the right, bit by bit clinging on for his life while squinting and allowing his eyes to adjust to the blackness.

  A small gap in the fence allowed some of the light from the burning town to seep through, just enough to show a small single-story building with a corrugated roof directly beneath Carl. He could hear the sound of Vincent’s boots ascending the ladder. It was now or never, so he let go and tried to curl into a tight ball as he fell. He crashed through the thin metal sheeting and landed heavily on a dusty workshop floor. The roof had broken his fall but as he stood up he felt his ankle give way. He flexed his foot and a sharp pain ran up his leg like an electric current. He looked up into the sky through the damaged roof then back down, scanning the interior for an exit. In the corner was a wooden door. He tried to run but again the pain was too much so he limped towards the exit and pushed the door with his shoulder. It didn’t budge so he put all his weight behind one last attempt. The rusty door hinges gave way and the door fell outwards like the first in a line of dominoes. He was now lying flat on his face, on top of the door.

  From above he could hear the bolt action of the rifle as Vincent chambered another round. There was no time to waste so he hauled himself up and ran as fast as his injured ankle would let him into the darkness. Another shot thudded into the dirt nearby but he didn’t stop or look back; he had to keep running.

  Vincent lowered his weapon as the pitch blackness of the night quickly swallowed his target.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Carl had found a car in a nearby abandoned village and now drove as fast as he could away from the mayhem and into the next day. The rocky ditch-filled tracks were taking their toll on the vehicle as its suspension struggled to cope with the constant battering. The fuel tank had just a quarter left but there was no sight of any trees or observatory. It didn’t make sense anyway. In a land where everything was dead and dust why would one area have any life? And even if it did, why had people settled further south where there was nothing, instead of further north where things might be growing.

  Carl reduced the speed as he took a sip from a water canteen he’d found and filled back at the village. He squinted at the metallic taste, but it didn’t burn his throat and after a few mouthfuls he didn’t feel any pains so presumed it must be OK to drink. It was either that or die of thirst and become a set of bleached bones slumped over the steering wheel of a rusting relic.

  His headache subsided as the cool liquid started to rehydrate, but his stomach still felt bloated and tender from the lack of food. He’d gone hungry for much longer though and he could easily ignore this for as long as needed. Although well fed recently, he’d spent most of his life scavenging and eating other people’s garbage. He pushed a button and turned knobs on the car’s console to try to get some air out of the vents but there was no respite from the ever-burning sun beating down on the vehicle’s roof. With the windows open he got a mouth full of dust, with them closed he baked in his own sweat.

  Carl squinted as the shimmering horizon revealed a structure in the distance. He slowed as the track came to an end, intersected by a long straight road for as far as the eye could see. This looked like a main highway, a larger version of the well-kept roads that the rich Crystal City dwellers would use to travel around the city, but which the poor Wretches were banned from using. It was made of a black substance designed to stand the wear and tear of many vehicles and was still in good condition. Craters pockmarked its surfa
ce now and again but these could be driven around, and the large structures revealed themselves to be gantries and walkways spanning the lanes. Heavily corroded signs that once told the ancients where they were going now dangled by a thread and swung in the wind.

  Carl weaved his way around the road damage and abandoned vehicles until he got onto a clear stretch where he could put his foot down and make up some time. A blinking light drew his attention to the now critically low fuel. The pedal was on the floor and his knuckles were white as he held the wheel. The engine struggled. At first it was just a jolt followed by several loud bangs as the engine misfired, starved of fuel. He was now cruising and helpless as the vehicle slowed and came to a stop.

  He punched the steering wheel. ‘Damn it.’

  He got out and looked in the direction he’d come from. Most of the wrecked vehicles were behind him, too far back to check for fuel. He looked ahead where the road seemed to blend with the horizon in the distance. Something moved and Carl looked to his right. Near the edge of the road was a small four-legged animal. It had hooves, short fur and large ears that rotated and twitched with every blow of the wind. It stared at Carl as he took a step closer.

  ‘Hello, little fella, where are you off to?’ Carl said as he closely examined the creature. He’d never seen anything other than people alive, but he’d seen pictures and read about animals of all shapes and sizes in books.

  The animal’s small button nose sniffed the air and its eyes stayed firmly locked onto Carl.

  ‘So, what do you know, my little friend? Seen any observatories or bridges around this place?’

  The animal jumped, as if spooked by something, and then bolted away from the road towards a steep escarpment where it disappeared over its edge.

  Carl looked around; nothing else was about but the sun was lowering in the sky and he didn’t want to be outside during the night. There could be other animals that were not so timid, and he knew from books that animals hunted in packs and he was in no condition to fend anything off.

  He gathered a few things from the car and left the road, walking across the dusty ground towards the steep land. Small rocks turned into boulders and the dirt became blood red from the dipping sun. He started up the incline, losing his footing a few times as the loose ground gave way, forcing him back down to the bottom. The animal’s hooves were well adapted to this environment and it had clambered up and over in one go, so Carl wasn’t going to let this defeat him. The little guy was heading to its home and that home probably wasn’t a dusty highway.

  He managed to near the top and kept himself from sliding back down by crawling on all fours. His eyes were streaming and he coughed as the late evening air whipped up the sand and dust which swirled around in mini whirlwinds. He grabbed onto one of the smaller rocks at the top and hauled himself up on the ridge where he sat down and wiped the sand out of his eyes. It clumped and scratched his face as it mixed with his sweat.

  He stood up as his vision cleared and looked out at the land before him. ‘Oh my God, no, it’s impossible…I don’t believe it.’

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Carl shook his head and started to make his way down the steep incline. His legs felt painful and weak and it was now becoming an effort to put one foot in front of the other and stop himself from tumbling down the rocky slope. But what lay ahead gave him the energy he needed. It drew him in, as an oasis draws in a weary traveller.

  At the bottom was a large crater measuring a mile or more across, almost entirely covered with trees. Carl paused every now and again to try to comprehend the scale of the area. Something so big must have been created by an asteroid or large explosion. Perhaps in the distant past some heavenly body fell to Earth, or the ancients detonated one of their advanced nuclear weapons, vaporising a city and its population. Either way the depression had created a small microclimate. A haven where young trees and shrubs could grow and reach for the skies to soak up the sun’s rays, and enjoy the cleaner rain that must have fallen this far north.

  Why people built their settlements further south still puzzled Carl. This seemed a perfect spot for a colony. He knew from his limited education that plants and trees had complex mechanisms to convert light energy into chemical energy to fuel the organism’s activities. With the right soil and enough rainfall those organisms would flourish. It was all just pictures and words made by some long-dead author…until now.

  Carl reached the tree line and glanced back. The scarp was steep and the journey back up would be even more difficult. There was no choice but to press on. As he stepped under the canopy, a cool, welcoming breeze dried the sweat on his face, and he breathed deeper, filling his lungs with the invigorating air. Maybe this was the sanctuary that they were looking for. It seemed more like paradise than anywhere else he’d ever seen. He looked up and saw the sun glinting through the tree tops as he stroked the top of the knee-high shrubs with his hand. Small four-legged animals, similar to the one he saw near the highway, darted through the trees in the distance. If only Amy could see this. If only she was still alive. Carl stopped and rubbed his face. The grief was consuming him and became a pain within his core that he couldn’t shift. He had to continue; there was nothing back there.

  He found a shallow stream and squatted down to scoop some water up in his hand. It tasted cold and drinkable, so he filled his canteen. He looked up at the canopy and watched the trees sway in the wind; the sound was tranquil and the whole forest seemed alive.

  Further on Carl came across some derelict buildings. The walls were made of thick blocks of stone, but the windows and roof coverings were long gone, and only an empty shell now remained. The structures must have somehow survived whatever caused the crater, although the walls had been reduced to half height and the forest had started to reclaim what was left. Nearby was a child’s rusted and twisted bicycle. Its paintwork had been removed by intense heat and the tyres had melted to the wheels. Somebody must have lived and played here. But they were long dead, along with whatever society they belonged to.

  Carl took another drink of water and continued walking until he came to the edge of the trees. The land now opened up into a large meadow, just as Elias said it would. Yellow-headed wildflowers created a golden carpet that blanketed the area. He looked back at the path he was creating with each step. It didn’t look like anyone else had walked this way in a long time.

  A shot rang out. The loud crack echoed around the crater as a bullet kicked up dirt just behind Carl. Carl hit the ground and tried to bury himself amongst the flowers. He was now very exposed, a sitting duck out in the middle of the meadow with no cover. His eyes rapidly scanned the treeline for the shooter. If he didn’t make a move soon he was going to die. He felt his waistband but there was no weapon. He must have forgotten to retrieve it from the car, or maybe lost it while climbing down the slope. Carl lifted his head a little and looked to where he needed to be. It was about a thirty-second fast sprint to cover.

  ‘What are my legs…they’re steel springs. What are they going to do? They’re going to propel me across this field,’ he whispered.

  But was he running away or towards the shooter? How could he tell? The shot landed directly behind him, so it couldn’t have come from the front. It must have come from behind or to the side. Carl pushed himself upwards and forward as fast as he could. He started to run with fingers outstretched and head low, making himself as aerodynamic as possible. Another shot whistled past his right ear, so close he felt the rush of air. He pressed the palm of his hand against the side of his head to check for blood but there was none. He waited for the next shot and started to zigzag, which slowed him down but would make it more difficult for someone to get a lock on him. He managed to reach the edge of the field as another bullet thudded into a nearby tree.

  Down a gravel slope he could see what looked like the observatory: a round structure painted white with a grey domed roof, but there was no bridge in sight. He looked over his shoulder as he hurried towards the entrance.
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  ‘Hello, Carl. Fancy seeing you here,’ Vincent said, stepping out of the doorway.

  Carl stopped dead in his tracks, his feet skidding along the gravel. His heart pounded and his legs seemed to turn to jelly. He neither had the time nor energy to run for cover. He bent over, placed his hands on his thighs and spat on the ground. ‘Well, you know, it’s a nice day and all that.’

  Vincent cradled his hunting rifle under his arm. ‘Nice day for killing the sons of Adam, don’t you think?’

  Carl looked over his shoulder to see another man standing there. Younger with long hair and a beard and staring down his rifle’s sight.

  Vincent took a step forward. ‘That’s young Archie and yes he’s a terrible shot, isn’t he? Three shots, Archie, you couldn’t hit a barn door with that damn thing.’

  Archie shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s the gun, not me.’

  Vincent shook his head. ‘Bad tradesman blaming his tools. I already said that you can’t just stick a scope on it and hope for the best. You have to test and calibrate it.’

  Archie shrugged. ‘What does calibrate mean?’

  ‘Oh my goodness, will you listen to that?’ Vincent said, looking at the floor then back at Carl. ‘I build these things to a high specification, and then look at what you get. We need words with quality control I think.’

  ‘How did you find me?’ Carl asked.

  ‘Humans are very easy to track, particularly when they’re driving old vehicles up the only clear road heading north. I take it Elias told you about this place?’

  Carl nodded.

  ‘Bless his heart, he tries his best, but there’s nothing for you here, Carl. He’s sent you on a wild goose chase.’

  ‘But what’s inside the observatory? What’s the bridge he talked about?’