by Sam J Fires
Jane scanned the area for any signs of some sort of a refuge.
It came in the form of a rusting car, with all the windows smashed in.
“Get to the car!” screamed Jane. She got there first and quickly slammed her palms on the bonnet. In the event of getting caught up in a sandstorm, and in lieu of any other cover, the suits had been designed with built-in suction cups they could latch onto metallic surfaces. She was relieved at having something solid beneath her fingertips.
Jane watched as Eric clasped the bonnet with one hand while clutching the camera with the other. One of these days, that camera is going to be the death of him.
That was when she realized that they were a person short.
Donna was running towards the car but tripped and stumbled. She was struggling to get to her feet and the storm was almost upon her, threatening to rain down in all its nightmarish ferocity.
She’s not going to make it. Without thinking, Jane pulled her hands off the car and ran towards Donna, grabbed her and led her towards the wrecked car, bundling her inside. “You all right?” Donna nodded, shaken.
Jane resumed her position, placing her hands on the car roof. She noticed Eric shooting her a quizzical look, but didn’t respond, trying to keep the focus on staying alive.
It was an odd sensation, frozen in place with only a thin layer of plastic separating them from the red sand battering down on top of them. Donna constantly checked the visor protecting her face, checking for any signs of damage.
They waited until the storm had died down to the point no one was worried about being swept away before continuing their journey. Donna walked ahead, studying a map of the area, trying to see if she could recognize any of the landmarks buried beneath the ever growing desert. She had picked up a more energetic pace, moving ahead of Eric and Jane. Eric had taken a break from filming and spoke quietly to Jane.
“You realize that we’re going to need to see that map too?” said Eric.
“Just let her use it, okay?” Jane said with more force than she had intended.
I know what you’re trying to do.”
“What?” demanded Jane, all pretense now gone.
“You’re trying to protect her. You think she’s a lamb that can be easily led to the slaughter.”
“I’m just doing my job to look after my team” Jane said, through gritted teeth.
“Oh, come on,” Eric said mockingly. “If that had been me lying flat on my ass back there, would you be taking on the role as my knight in shining armor?”
“Are you saying I should have left her to die?”
“Dear God, no,” said Eric indignantly. “The point is you threw yourself into the line of fire. How do you know she couldn’t have got herself to cover?”
“She’s… got issues.”
“She’s not a goddamn invalid,” snapped Eric. “Do you expect her to rely on you to keep her safe all the time? What are you going to do when she’s not got you or me around? When she has one of her episodes? She won’t know what to do because she’ll be used to you charging in there, guns blazing.”
“Whereas you, on the other hand, wrote the rulebook on sandstorm survival,” Jane retorted.
“I’m not just talking about sandstorms. There are other things to be worried about.”
“Like what?” demanded Jane.
“Events like this… they change people. And not necessarily for the better.” Eric continued, more gently, “I care about Donna and I want to see her safe. But she’s not a child that needs coddling.”
“I’m just trying to help,” Jane was running out of justifications.
“You want to help? Teach her how to use a weapon so she builds a sense of self-reliance.”
“That’s actually a good idea. I could give her your camera; she can smack people around the head with that.”
Eric held the camera out of her reach. “No one touches the camera,” he said in a serious tone but couldn’t disguise the humorous undertone.
“Guys,” shouted Donna.
They had come to a building, but not just any building. A bar, shattered window but its signage still intact even after everything that had happened. Donna’s face lit up with recognition.
“Josie,” she whispered.
As if on cue, the trio glimpsed something moving inside through the damaged window. “Josie!” screamed Donna, running for the opening. Eric had enough time to throw Jane a look that screamed, ‘I told you so’ before they went in after her.
The bar was empty, and the interior was surprisingly untouched by the storm.
The sound of the storm outside was replaced by a new sound.
The cocking of a gun with Josie pointing it.
CHAPTER 4 - DONNA
Donna wondered if this was some kind of mirage brought on by the sandstorm. Josie, the woman she had known for many years as a pacifist, was standing over her wearing a torn gray T-shirt, her skin flecked with grime and pointing a gun at her face.
“Josie, it’s me.” Donna dared to step towards the barrel. I must have a death wish.
Josie’s face relaxed slightly. “Donna?” She gently lowered the barrel a little. “Is it really you?” She gave a slight smile but dropped it just as quickly. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” She raised the barrel again.
“One of who?”
“The authority bastards looking to shut me down. You want me to show you what happened to the last prick who tried to ransack me?”
“Josie, I didn’t even know you were alive.”
Josie’s hand wavered, as though considering the logic, before Eric cleared his throat.
“Got to ask, is this how you greet all your regulars? ‘Cause I’m thinking a smile and the offer of a drink would win you more points.”
Jane scowled, praying his banter wasn’t going to get them shot. Josie pointed the gun in Eric’s direction.
“So why are you wearing those snazzy suits?”
Eric chortled. “You honestly think these are snazzy? Woman, quality is non-existent to these people. They’re more than happy to stick us with second-hand shit.”
Jane shot a look to Eric that begged ‘please shut up now’.
But to everyone’s surprise, Josie chuckled. “You hit the nail on the head there. Those guys are as tight as a duck’s ass. I’ve come across a fair few folk in my time who can attest to that.” Josie’s smile vanished again as she lifted the gun. “So, what are you doing here?”
“We saw someone inside, I wanted to know if it was you,” said Donna. “We’re not after anything. You know me, Josie. We’ve known each other for years.”
“People change,” said Josie.
“Maybe. But if you think I’ve changed enough to betray a friend, you pull that trigger.”
As Eric and Jane exchanged alarmed glances, Donna walked up to the gun and placed her visor against the barrel. “Come on, Josie!” she demanded, drawing confidence from a pool of energy growing inside her.
“You hurt her, you’d better be ready to follow her,” snarled Jane.
“Relax,” Josie said, wearily. “Still the same Donna. Same flair for the dramatic.” As she lowered the gun, she quickly added, “Don’t think I’m hugging you while you’ve got that monstrosity on. So, if you’re not in the looting and pillaging business, what business are you in?”
“We’re filming,” answered Eric.
“What? A horror movie?”
“We’re filming for a documentary on the sandstorms, trying to find out more about how they operate to educate the survivors.”
Josie raised an eyebrow, looking to Donna who nodded in confirmation. Taking the cue, Eric lifted his camera and held it up to Josie. “Would you care to share what you’ve learned about the storm for everyone back at the shelter?”
Jane facepalmed herself. “You never miss an opportunity, do you?” she half-whispered.
Josie looked into the camera and smiled sweetly. “Get that fucking camera out of my face or I will stick it som
ewhere the storm will never be able to reach it.”
Eric gulped and lowered the camera.
“Have you been here all this time?” Donna looked around the bar.
“My grandmother made a killing during Prohibition thanks to this place. You really think I was going to leave it to the first shitheads who happened to stop by?”
“But how have you survived?” asked Donna, disbelieving.
“I had to adapt, for sure. The day of the first storm, it was chaos. People pouring in from off the streets, everyone clamoring for space, it wasn’t long before a punch-up broke out. I ended up taking a few hits myself. In a way I was glad you didn’t make it back here, Donna. It was nasty.
“Luckily, I was able to get my hands on a baseball bat. I had to crack my fair share of skulls before they got the message.” Josie’s face looked haunted and Donna was taken aback by how much her old friend had been forced to harden herself.
“After the announcement went out about the shelters, I stayed behind, which meant that any canned food and drink was up for grabs. Of course, I had to make sure I didn’t walk out into a sandstorm.”
“How did you figure out when it was safe to venture outside?” asked Eric, who was trying to subtly focus the camera on Josie.
“I didn’t. But I was able to pick up certain patterns. A full fortnight passed after the first storm and when the second one came I was lucky not to be too far away. Then, nothing for a week and a half. Then another storm. Then nothing for a week before the next storm.”
“The gaps between storms are getting shorter,” said Jane.
“Yes, the irony is that if I want to keep stocked up on supplies, I need to venture out further into the city. But unless I do it soon, I’m not going to have the time to do it.”
“We can pick stuff up for you,” chimed in Eric. Everyone turned to look at him. “We’re heading in that direction anyway.”
“You sure you’re willing to do that?” asked Josie, treating generosity like an old relic.
Thinking sharply about how they could turn the situation to their advantage, Jane added, “Of course, if we’re going out, we’ll need better weapons.” She held up her handgun. “Somehow, I can’t see myself fighting off much with this thing.”
Josie nodded. “Fair enough. I have a few guns available and I was lucky enough to get my hands on a rifle.” Noticing Donna’s surprise, Josie said, “What? I’ve got to protect myself.”
“From what? The storms?” offered Eric.
“No,” said Josie, serious now, settling into a seat at the bar. “There are people out in the city. Not everyone has gone to the shelters. I can’t tell you how many because I honestly don’t know.”
“Any shooters?” asked Jane, remembering the unknown gunman who had taken shots at them on the day of the first storm.
“No shooters that I can recall. But I’ve been hearing things about a group that has been forming. Talking about how survival is their divine right. It’s probably just some religious crap.”
“How is it that there are still people out in the storm?” asked Eric, no longer bothering to hide the camera.
“No idea. Some of them probably chose to stick around, like me. I know a fair proportion of them are exiles. You guys should know all about that?”
“Know all about what?” asked Donna.
“Anyone who doesn’t toe the line in the shelters is booted out to fend for themselves. With security providing the boot.”
Donna and Eric turned around to look at Jane, who couldn’t shy away from their glares, aware that they were now seeing her in an entirely different light.
CHAPTER 5 - JANE
For a moment, Jane just looked to Donna, silently imploring her to back her up. But Donna couldn’t meet her pleading eyes.
“You’ve been throwing people out?” Eric asked incredulously. The revelation struck him with such force, he hadn’t noticed he’d dropped the camera to the floor.
“They were stealing from the supplies. It would have jeopardized the safety and wellbeing of everyone in the shelter, yourselves included.” That was how it had been explained to her when she had displayed some hesitation in carrying out her orders. It alarmed her how naturally the words rolled off her tongue. As though she had accepted the cold logic as her own.
“Fantastic message you’re sending out to the kids,” scoffed Eric. “Steal chocolate, death by hailstorm.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s never involved kids. Just greedy adults, and I was just doing my job.”
Josie’s eyes flared as though a fire had been ignited in them.
“I’m not proud of what I’ve been doing,” Jane continued to try and justify her position. “But we’ve all got to play our part moving forward.”
“My job description didn’t include crowd control, Jane” said Eric, indignant. “Hasn’t the population been reduced enough?”
“I need to do my part,” insisted Jane, all too aware of how unconvincing that sounded.
“I get that,” added Josie. “But how many people need to die for you to play your part?”
Jane wracked her brain to find a satisfactory answer.
“Those who put themselves above the security and wellbeing of all the others need to face the consequences of their actions.”
There was silence in the bar, with only the gentle howling of the wind. Finally, Eric broke the silence in an attempt at levity. “So, Josie, I believe you have some guns you can point us towards?”
“Sure,” said Josie, a half-hearted attempt to sound like a professional servicing her clientele. “If you’d like to follow me this way…” She paused to look at Jane. “You do understand that I’m not in a hurry to arm G.I. Jane over there.”
Josie and Eric disappeared into the back room, leaving Donna and Jane alone. “Donna…”
“Just tell me this,” said Donna, whose voice was devoid of emotion. “If it was me or Eric, would you boot us out the door?”
“No,” declared Jane immediately. “Of course not, don’t even think that. After everything we’ve…”
“Jane, let’s just do what we need to do, and hopefully do it without being killed by either the storm on some maniac bastard who might lay eyes on us.”
***
Gideon looked down at the bar from the rooftop, surveying the city that had become his domain.
It had been a trying two months. There was a time when he wasn’t sure whether he would survive the storms. Thankfully, his survival instincts had been successful, and he had prevailed. He still wrestled with indecision as to whether he should have headed to a shelter like everyone else, if only to acquire a sense of clarity. But he could only imagine how they would react an ex-con fresh out of jail turning up on their doorstep.
No. He was much safer out here. More prepared, alert.
He knew that he was not the only one who inhabited the city. There were increasing numbers moving through the sands with a renewed sense of purpose. So far, Gideon had done his best to avoid them. No point in starting a confrontation that would drastically diminish his resources. But that meant time was limited, and he needed to move quickly.
Someone was coming out of the building and stopping in the middle of the street.
He took out his binoculars and focused on the lone figure.
He couldn’t believe it. It was her.
There was no waiting to be done now. He would move quickly, taking one last glance at his new target.
***
Jane walked outside the bar, which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the smartest thing she could have done. But she could feel Donna’s silent scorn.
Are they right? Sure, she’d had certain misgivings about what she’d been asked to do at the shelter, but it hadn’t been until she was confronted with disgust of the two people she had come to value that she’d felt the full reality of what she was having to do to people.
It was at that moment that a small ball of what looked like yarn landed at Jane’s feet. Sh
e looked at it quizzically, wondering if it had been blown in her direction by the storm.
Then the ball exploded, and Jane felt as though an avalanche was rushing up to greet her.
***
Donna had watched Jane leave the bar. She hadn’t motioned for her to stay. Nor had she followed her out.
Her first instinct was to feel let down. But then again, in reality she barely knew Jane and she couldn’t really understand the position Jane had been forced into. She didn’t know the circumstances. For all she knew, she or Eric could also find themselves in a position where they would have to face a similar dilemma.
Once she had gotten over her initial shock, Donna remembered that Jane had just saved her life at great risk to her own. She valued her enough to do that.
Before she could follow her out, a shockwave reverberated through the bar, blowing forceful gusts of sand inside, knocking Donna off her feet.
Josie and Eric raced back in, Eric trying to juggle several handguns and his camera. “What the fuck was that?” exclaimed Josie.
“Please tell me those storms don’t come with earthquakes now,” moaned Eric.
Donna picked herself off the floor and ran out through the open window into the deserted street and looked around. But there was no sign of anyone. Not even…
“Jane?” Donna called out.
Only the gushing wind answered.
Starting to feel panic, Donna ran down the street, hoping to catch sight of her. But it quickly proved futile. Jane wasn’t there.
She was gone.
Eric stumbled out of the window, camera in hand. He looked back at Josie, who had remained behind in the bar. “What?” she asked. “She’s not my problem.”
Eric shrugged and went to join Donna. “What the hell happened?”
“I-I don’t know” stammered Donna. “I really don’t know.”
The answer came in the form of static over the communication device built into Donna and Eric’s suits. Donna pressed the intercom button on the suit. “Receiving.”
