by Mark Lingane
The road train screamed toward them. The light from the giant headlights tore through the air and shone on them—except the sandman wasn’t there anymore, but off to the side. Poor light, optical displacement, Sebastian thought. You can’t see me, now you can.
The intense light from the road train reflected off the sandman’s clothes and lit the figure up like a lighthouse.
“Got you!” He grabbed the sandman by the throat.
The figure flailed. The horn blasted, so loud it was painful. The sandman screamed and clawed, but could not break Sebastian’s stranglehold. The two staggered back and forth as the road train barreled toward them. The sandman dug its nails into his wrist and he released it. Crazed, it staggered directly into the path of the road train. Sebastian dived to one side.
There was a wet thud. The immense vehicle thundered past, its horn causing him to clasp his hands over his ears. There was nothing but the roar of the engine and the pounding of the wheels. As the road train thundered past, he saw light from the windows of the dozen cabins that made up the train. And in the cabins were people, staring out at the impossible darkness. He thought he caught the sound of music, just at the edge of his hearing. Then it had passed.
He got to his knees, the sand cascading off him. In the pitch black, he couldn’t see anything. He had no idea in which direction the camp was or where his sword was. He felt around with his hands for his weapon.
The taillights of the road train flickered, and then were gone. Falling dust caught the light momentarily, highlighting the church spire and the edge of his sword. He scooped up his weapon and headed toward the church.
He tried to forget the sound that sandman had made. It had squealed, sounding disconcertingly like a child.
He stood by the tent and the vehicles, as still as he could be in the turbulent winds, watching and waiting. The minutes stretched out while the sand tumbled down in the hourglass of his existence. He found the white noise of the wind soothing, and he felt himself falling forward. He thumped into the sand. But nothing moved. No one attacked. He took it as a sign, crawled back into the tent and instantly fell asleep.
69
NIELS STRETCHED AS he woke. Memphis rolled over and laid her arm across Sebastian’s chest. Her hand skimmed over the sand on his body. She rubbed it between her fingers. A quizzical expression crossed her face. She opened her eyes and was surprised by the amount of sand in the tent. She shook Sebastian awake. He slowly rose up, and the sand cascaded off him.
Outside, the sandstorm was still raging.
While they ate breakfast he elaborated on the events of the night. They stared at him as he relived the adventure.
“You took down two of them?” Memphis said.
“Yeah.”
“You know, there’ve been stories of one sandman taking out whole groups of people,” Niels said. “If they have the element of surprise, there’s usually nothing you can do.”
“Aren’t you my little hero,” Memphis said.
“Only one problem,” Niels said. “Let’s hope they don’t send word ahead.”
“The road train looked like it was just carriages of people,” Sebastian said.
Niels nodded. “The road trains were once used as luxury transport. The wealthy—what remains of them—use them as … something I don’t understand. Just so they don’t have to be a part of all this, and can live in their own little cocoons of opulence while the world around them suffers.”
Sebastian yawned and stretched. “We should get going.”
“Will you be all right?” Memphis said.
Sebastian shook the drowsiness from his head and nodded.
The sun, little more than a demon’s eye, spewed forth a dull light across the sky. As they drove through the fierce storm, sandmen arose and watched them pass, like scarecrows rising from the creeping sands. Every small ruin offered the same spectacle of the skeleton-like people in the strange dark purple material facelessly watching them pass, warning and waiting. Each skeleton held a staff, a crooked and bleached branch, and their robes fluttered in the strong gales.
Sebastian pulled over, exhausted from the hours of pushing into the headwinds. No town remnant had been empty, so they’d simply stopped by the side of the road for rest stops, taking the full blast of the wind. Now Sebastian turned his back against it, and was nearly blown over as his clothes caught the eternal gusts.
Niels pulled in behind them. Memphis tumbled into the front of the tiny car, combining with the force of the wind to nearly knock it over. Sebastian joined them, and they all squeezed behind the minimal protection offered by the small vehicle. The tiny wind turbine attached to the roof spun around, threatening to become airborne.
“I’ve never heard of the sandmen coming out during the day,” Memphis said. “They seem so frail, barely more than the bones of their bodies.”
“There’s not much to eat out on the death plains,” Niels said.
She nodded. “And I dread to think what it is.”
Sebastian had his head lowered. The wind was taking its toll, as was the constant gnawing in his head. The unrelenting stinging sapped any spirit of optimism. “Is it going to be like this all the way to New York?”
“No. We get some respite from the plains. From there you get patches of death plains and patches of nearly habitable land,” Niels said.
“It kinda sucks all across the east,” Memphis said.
“You both lived out here,” Sebastian said. “Why did you stay?”
“The love of someone is a very strong pull,” Niels said.
Memphis nodded. “What he said. Sometimes it’s all you’ve got.”
“How are your batteries?” Niels asked Sebastian. “You can plug into Veronica if you want a recharge.”
Sebastian roused himself. “Good. At least the wind’s kept your batteries at full.”
They waited for an hour as the bike’s batteries were topped up. The wind began to increase in intensity as the sun started to descend.
“I suggest we try to camp at the next town,” Niels said as he disconnected the bike.
But as they approached the next set of ruins, the sandmen rose up. They kept going. For ruins after ruins, the same thing happened. The sun set and the lands went dark.
Eventually, Sebastian pulled off the endless highway, and Niels followed.
“We’re going to have to go through the night,” Sebastian said.
“It’s suicide,” Niels said. He shook his head vigorously.
“But it’s suicide to stay at any of the towns. They’re waiting for us at every town,” Memphis said to Niels. “Even if we have a one-percent chance of surviving out here, that’s still better than the zero percent we have camping in one of the towns. I’m sorry, but there’s no choice.”
Niels lowered his head. “I will lead. At least that’ll give you a chance of surviving the wind.”
The darkness closed in around them. The evening wind picked up, swirling around from side to side.
The road proved difficult to follow with only the small lights from Veronica illuminating the way. Several times, Sebastian swerved off the road and onto the treacherous sinking sands. Finally, his concentration lapsed and he misjudged a corner. The bike hit the sand and flipped over, throwing them both free. He staggered onto his feet and struggled to lift the bike, but its wheels only slipped away.
“This is ridiculous,” he shouted over the roaring winds. “We can’t go on like this.”
Memphis’s muted response angered him. The extreme exhaustion and constant pain had worn him down to a person he couldn’t even recognize anymore. He turned around ready to shout at her.
Memphis stood still, terrified. A dozen sandmen surrounded her.
Sebastian slowly reached behind his back for his sword. A sandman grabbed Memphis and whacked a stick into her stomach. She collapsed. A dull glow flashed across the sandmen, followed by a beam of intense blue light. Niels stood beside Veronica with the EM gun. It was flashing red.
<
br /> “That’ll show them,” Niels shouted. “Now go!”
Sebastian helped Memphis to her feet, and they lifted the bike and wheeled back to the road. Meanwhile, Niels drove manically toward the sandmen, distracting them. Sebastian accelerated away, trying to follow the edge of the road in the dim light from his headlight. Niels caught up and pulled alongside them, providing much needed illumination.
Sebastian could see another point of light in the distance, accompanied by the plaintive howl of tortured machinery. An intense pain speared into his back. Memphis screamed. A sandman blew in from the side, attacked them, and drifted away in the blink of an eye.
“What are they on?” Memphis said.
“Look!” Sebastian yelled. “They look like some kind of land yachts.”
Large sails on wheels surrounded them, nearly invisible in the darkness. The attacks continued. Niels tried to swerve into the attackers, but the proximity of the dark purple material was impossible to gauge.
Sebastian moved alongside Niels and shouted, “You’re not going to like this, but our best chance is that road train.” He pointed over at the light skipping across the horizon. “The headlights have some special element that lights up the purple fabric.”
“How can we catch up in this sand? We’ll never be able to do it.”
“We’ll just have to go as fast as we can and hope for the best.”
“You’re plans are getting worse by the day,” Niels shouted over the cyclonic winds. He shook his head and steered Veronica off the road and over the undulating sands toward the screaming road train.
The vehicles bounced and powered their way through the sand, always just ahead of the sandmen’s onslaught. Niels could no longer swerve in the soft sand, and had to simply drive straight and fast. Sebastian weaved the bike behind Veronica, jumping over the small rivulets, managing to keep some of the sandmen’s land yachts at bay.
They hit hard ground and nearly skidded with the excess speed as the wheels gripped the road surface. The road train was heading directly toward them. Sandmen came crashing across the road, knocking Sebastian and Memphis off the bike. They struggled back onto the seat as the road train bore down on them, its horn blasting. He accelerated ahead of the enormous vehicle, with Niels following closely behind.
They raced along the road, lit up by the enormous headlight behind them. One slip and they were all dead, crushed by the unstoppable beast.
The sandmen swept in, but were clearly visible. They found it easy to avoid them, and eventually the sandmen disappeared.
“I think we’re safe now,” Sebastian called back to Memphis.
“Veronica’s badly damaged,” Niels shouted across to them. “I need to stop and repair her.”
“You’re kidding me!” Sebastian yelled. “We’ll be sitting ducks out here. Wait, I’ve got an idea. I’m going to stop the road train.”
“You know that thing I said about your plans getting worse by the day,” Niels shouted over the roar of the engines and the wind. “Change that to by the minute.”
They all looked back at the thundering monstrosity behind them.
Sebastian pulled back so they were alongside the road train. “Grab the accelerator,” he yelled to Memphis.
She leaned forward and clutched the handlebars. Sebastian let go with one hand and pivoted around Memphis onto the back of the bike. He grabbed onto her shoulders as she wriggled up to the front, and ducked in low over the fuel tank. He braced himself against the wind and prepared to jump.
He landed on the side of one of the carriages. He glanced in the window, seeing elaborate place settings and rich cloths. He could only see the backs of people, but they all wore flamboyant costumes completely at odds with the outside environment.
He clambered up onto the roof and crawled along it until he came to a gap between the carriage he was on and the next one. He lowered himself. The wind grabbed him, and flung him into the side of the carriage. He fought for purchase as his legs swung out. He pulled himself back against the carriage, and inched his way along, his muscles screaming.
He flung the door open and swung himself in through the opening, bouncing off the doorjamb on the way through. He collapsed onto the rich red carpet, rolling face down onto his front. He lay peacefully with his eyes closed, enjoying the softness of the thick wool, stroking his hand over it as though it were a long-lost pet. No one was making any sound.
He opened one eye. A pair of black shiny shoes was several inches from his face. They didn’t move. Neither did the set of fancy women’s shoes next to them. The dress covered her legs all the way down to her shoes. At least someone has some standards, he thought. He rose up on his hands and knees, and banged his head on the underside of the table.
Backing up and apologizing profusely, he stood up and stared into the bone-white faces of the passengers. He glanced around the carriage. Everywhere he looked was the same. Skeletons dressed up in their finery, sitting with their lead-crystal glasses and fine bone-china plates, staring endlessly out the windows. There was no one living in the carriage.
He ran to the door and passed into the next carriage. It was the same: long dead people. He charged forward until he reached the truck at the front of the morbid collection. A small metal hatch opened into the cab. He stepped forward cautiously.
70
MEMPHIS AND NIELS powered along beside the road train. It seemed to be out of control, swerving from side to side. It left the road and plowed through the sand, creating bow waves. They drifted to the rear and followed in its wake. The truck slowed until it was barely moving in the tortuous sands. Sand fountained up and cascaded down over the cab, forcing the wheels deep into the earth. Then the truck came to a halt.
Steam poured out of the engine, and smoke billowed from the brakes, which glowed orange in the night.
Sebastian jumped out of the cab and ran back to Memphis and Niels. “Okay,” he said, “I have to warn you, it’s a bit weird in there.”
He opened the door at the back of the last carriage and they all climbed in. Niels and Memphis stood stunned, taking in the grandeur. Then Niels snapped to and started checking through the pockets of the skeletons closest to him. He withdrew several sets of papers.
“These people were from the Church of Truth.”
“I thought the Church was created by the government,” Sebastian said. “Government workers don’t usually live the life of luxury, do they?”
“The Church is the government,” Memphis said. “Politicians, ministers, leaders. All dead.”
Sebastian looked around. “You think they have good food?”
“Would you trust it? This was sudden death,” Niels said, pointing to the skeletons.
The door of the carriage swung shut, and metal bolts slid into place. Metal rollers slammed down over the windows. The three sprinted through the carriage into the next one, just scraping through the door before it crashed closed behind them. The door to the next carriage started to close. Sebastian leaped forward and caught it, forcing it back. The other two squeezed through behind him. One after the other, the rollers slammed down over the windows and the doors were locked, until every carriage was sealed.
In the last carriage, they hammered against the door, but the locks were engaged and it failed to budge. There was a sudden hiss, and thick gas poured into the carriage. They pulled cloths around their mouths, but the gas seeped through. Within seconds, Memphis had collapsed, and Niels followed. Sebastian continued to smash against the metal door. He sagged to his knees. Blackness clawed at him. He fell forward onto the carpet. There was only one thing he could do. He cleared his mind …
He woke staring up at the sky. It was morning, and the light was still gray. His head was in something soft. It was Memphis’s lap. She’d been crying. He wondered why. Then it hit him. The pain was immense. His body felt stretched in every direction. His body twisted and he buckled under the waves of pain that rolled over him.
Memphis stroked his head. Her hand was co
vered in blood. A deep purple haze descended over his vision, and the pain jackhammered into him. For several hours, he phased in and out of consciousness. Eventually, he stabilized.
“What happened?” he said.
“You did something tesla-like. Maybe you’re not as broken as you think.”
He remained lying down, shivering.
“You managed to melt the door. It was really impressive.”
“Why wasn’t there a driver?”
“We’ve worked out that they’re self-drive vehicles,” Niels said. “But I think this one is lost.”
“Lost?” He sat up slowly. Bloodstains covered the ground around him. A dark trail wound back to the stationary road train.
“They use advanced systems that are coordinated in the sky,” Niels continued. “The high levels of radiation will be distorting the signals, so trucks like this drive around the plains trying to find a way of getting home.”
“They did have food,” Memphis added.
“Was it poisoned?”
“I don’t think so. The gas would’ve been enough.”
“Then I’m going to try it.”
He tried to stand up, but his knees wouldn’t cooperate. He made his way to the truck cab, leaving a wandering trail through the sand. He clambered up into the cabin, and Memphis followed. They made their way back to the kitchen. Sebastian pulled open a freezer and looked at the familiar food.
“This is steak. Meat! You don’t have cows. And you don’t eat meat. Where did it come from?” He dug down through the supplies. One had a wrapper around it. He flipped it over. On it was stamped the origin: his home country.
He turned to Memphis. “You’ve had teslas, sullivans, and now meat from Australia. I’m really worried about what else is here.”
“Do you want the good news or the bad?” Memphis said.
“You might as well start with the bad.”
“You look pretty bad. I think you’re pretty badly injured.”
