The Sands of Borrowed Time

by Jeffry Winters

  Leon gazed down across the yellow plains, out towards the horizon that blended into the orange sky, raising his bald head upwards, his nostrils flaring as he took a slow, deep breath.

  “You smell that,” he finally spoke, without turning to Warren. Warren shook his head without speaking.

  “That’s the stench of sweat,” he continued, raising his head again as if savouring the breeze. “Sweat and diesel.” I do love the smell of diesel you know,” he continued, still sampling the air with his flared nostrils.

  “I see or hear nothing,” Warren replied. Leon grimaced, still focused on the plains, his breathing deepening.

  “Sweat and diesel. So much sweat.” He continued to gaze down upon the plains as if he was under a spell.

  “Sweet, fragrant sweat,” he whispered slowly. “The scent of a woman. A girl, perhaps. Look there!” he commanded in a raised voice, pointing to the dusty plain. Then Warren saw it, a series of small plumes of dust, a trail racing westwards across the desert.

  “There’s somebody out there, don’t you think?” Leon remarked smugly, raising an eyebrow to Warren.

  “You could very well be right,” Warren replied eagerly. “Maybe we should get down there and introduce ourselves,” he continued.

  “Be rude not to,” Leon replied through his grinding teeth as they both pulled their goggles down over their eyes while eagerly kick-starting their bikes. The wide rear wheels of their bikes spun deep into the sand, sending it upwards as large plumes into the air before the tyres found some grip, propelling the bikes into a snaking thrust down into the valley. Their arms shook violently as the handlebars rattled while the bikes weaved and bounced across the rough terrain. A rare glint of Sun peeked through a break in the sandstorm, momentarily blinding them, the bikes continuing relentlessly, regardless. Leon could smell the diesel strongly now. This vehicle is old and worn, he thought. The scent of the girl was fresh, too young to be riding out alone, he believed, but he saw no others. A honey trap maybe; however, he doubted it. A young girl, wandering the plains all alone, was an exercise in misadventure he deliberated; innocent to the dangers of the road, he concluded. Leon and Warren were slowly gaining on the vehicle. It was hard to see it through its dusty trail and the sand whirling in the midday wind. It ejected some black smoke, a response he thought to being noticed. The girl had probably shifted down a gear to gain speed fast. Leon and Warren both responded instantly by opening their throttles fully, their bikes screaming louder, their frames rattling violently. Leon held onto the handle grips so tight that his hands began to ache from the vibrations. The dust swirled past his face, stinging his skin, visibility almost down to zero as the vehicle ahead disappeared from their sight.

  “Where are you, my little honey!” he shouted aloud, seeing the trail of dust suddenly switch directions. She had turned and taken a detour onto the highway. Here, visibility was better and the ride smoother. Wrong decision, Leon thought as he checked his mirrors for Warren, seeing him lagging a few hundred yards behind, confused by the detour. “Now you’re in my sights, my little lady,” Leon deliberated as he gained on her, the vehicle coming clearly into view. It was a customised buggy, a very fast one he thought in admiration. The rider was small and hidden behind it's fixed on bucket seat. However, long, black hair, streamed down the sides, twisting in the air. He could see pert breasts bouncing in her rear view mirror, confirming a young girl was behind the wheel. Then there was a brilliant flash; a blast of fire coming from the buggies exhaust, followed by a piercing wail, the buggy screaming forward at incredible speed. Leon felt he was standing still as he watched the buggy screech ahead of him, maybe by an extra 70 - 80 mph, its frame looking delicate as it shuddered from the violent acceleration. As he watched, it disappeared into the hazy distance. He noticed Warren had caught up beside him, raising his fist in defiance like a bad loser.

  Leon shook his head, “Catch your monkey, slowly!” he shouted across to him, waving his hand forward, urging him to continue. She can’t have many of those little tricks, and if we continue at our pace, we will eventually catch her, he reasoned.

  They continued to speed along the highway, the air stiflingly hot. Leon wiped the dust from his goggles, the girl coming into view again, a pinpoint in the distance until she disappeared again over the brow of an approaching hill. As they neared the brow, Leon noticed that the dusty, orange sky looked darker, greyer. The pungent smell of oil began to saturate the air. He motioned to Warren to hold back, and as they neared the summit of the hill, they slowed and stopped. Murky, black plumes of smoke were rising into the air, mixing with the orange haze to produce a muddy looking sky. There were several columns in fact, dark and thick, like smoke from burning oil.

  “Christ, who the fuck can afford to burn oil!” Leon said in astonishment.

  “Looks like an oil refinery,” Warren replied with awe. Leon noticed a few other vehicles ahead had joined the buggy. They were all stationary for several minutes as if a discussion was taking place. Then the automobiles slowly set out in their direction, the buggy staying put awhile until finally speeding off in the opposite direction, towards the plumes of smoke.

  “For some, this is where the hunter becomes the hunted,” Leon said without fear, “but not us,” as he lifted a grenade launcher from the side of his bike, aiming it at the approaching convoy. Through the magnification of its sight, he could see them clearly. They were cruising, and in no particular hurry. He guessed they could not see him or his grenade launcher yet, as they had not stopped or turned. He thought their bikes could easily outrun them unless they pulled a little trick like the girl. He fired anyway; it was in his nature he felt as he watched the missile fly elegantly towards the convoy, leaving a neat contrail of white smoke in its wake. So beautiful looking, he contemplated, listening intently as it cut through the air with a mighty roar, exploding violently as it hit the leading vehicle. A fireball spread out in all directions, engulfing many of the vehicles. Leon felt a wave of calmness wash over him as he observed the chaos before him.

  “I love the smell of burning diesel,” he said with a grin, making Warren grin also.

  His sullen eyes looked across at the commotion, past the shaft of the pump as it swung upwards with a groan. The smell of oil filled his lungs as it sloshed up from the well.

  More flies to swat. Poverty breeds mindless idiots, he scowled. Who are these retards? He looked to the horizon to see the bikes turn and drive away, disappearing over the hill. Don’t worry; today, tomorrow, it doesn’t matter when. We will find you, and when we do… He sighed as he watched his vehicles burn, running his finger down the scars on his face, from his forehead to his chin. It felt coarse and ugly. He did not want to see it, anybody to see it as he pulled his hood back over his head and walked past the well back to the camp.

  Arbitrary Detention

  Aveline awoke. She was immediately aware that her mouth had a cloth tied tightly around it, her arms and legs bound to the bed she was laying on. There was pain in her back, and her muscles ached. The room was dark, but Sunlight poured in through openings where the roof lay on top of the walls. She could make out that she was in a small, stuffy room. The taste and feel of blood in her mouth that had dried and congealed made her want to vomit. She was incredibly thirsty, finding it difficult to swallow. People outside were chatting, mixed with the sound of kids playing, and there was the sound of muffled engines as if she was in some town or marketplace. The room was not decorated; the walls were bare, made from uncut stones cemented together. There was a small clunk as someone opened the door. Aveline raised her head to look. A woman entered the room looking across at her. It was the blonde woman who had pulled her ungraciously from her bike. She sat on the bed beside her, her long, blonde and matted hair brushing Aveline’s thighs. The brightness of her eyes suggested she was very young, but the Sun had aged her skin beyond her years.

  She looked at Aveline and spoke with that shrewd look she had remembered from the day before.

  "So
rry about that business yesterday. It was a bit rude of me to do that and not introduce myself." Aveline felt nervous but found her gentle voice and sparkling eyes calming. "My name is Carla,” she continued softly. “We picked you up yesterday as I’m sure you remember. You shouldn't have run.” Carla bent over to untie the gag from Aveline’s mouth with a few gentle tugs behind her head. “Looks like your cheek has closed up nicely,” she continued as she run her finger along the deep, red scar that crossed Aveline’s face just below her eye. It looks almost like a cross, Carla thought. She slowly walked over to the table and poured some water from a jug that she had placed there the night before. She poured it gently into Aveline’s mouth while holding up the back of her head. Aveline coughed up blood, which Carla wiped from her face with a damp cloth. "Take some more," Carla commanded gently. The water felt good, Aveline thought. "Here, take some bread," Carla said a bit more forcefully as she released Aveline's legs and arms from their bounds. Aveline rose up, the pain in her back was excruciating. She gave out a deep breath as Carla spoke again. "Don't worry, nothing broken, just some bruises.” There was an awkward pause, both looking at the other before Carla continued, "It could have been worse for you out there. Just up the road was buzzing with bandits. A few miles more and you would have been a lot worse off. They would have eaten you up for sure. Why were you riding alone? It’s not the most sensible thing to do around these parts." Aveline shrugged, she felt embarrassed that she had underestimated who was out there, but she had done it so many times before without incident. She thought that maybe she had gotten complacent. There was a quirkiness to Carla's behaviour, Aveline observed. A kind of underlying madness masquerading as sweetness. She noticed how oddly Carla turned her head when she smiled, her pupils always full and bright, even in the darkness that gave it away. "We have been watching you, your friends, your little group," Carla said with interest. "Both those in the North and those in the South. You appear organised to some extent. Nevertheless, you lack authority and influence. We should join forces and be part of a mightier group, a group with force, a group to be reckoned with, a chance to stamp out the unruly so there can be peace. Eradicate this place of the parasites that prey on those that work and strive every day for their lives and freedom. Carla looked into Aveline’s eyes as she combed her fingers forcefully through her long, tangled hair. Aveline felt strange and timid in her presence, feeling uncomfortable as Carla’s behaviour got more and more peculiar. “You have seen the ship, yes? Carla said.

  So this is what’s it’s all about; the friggin’ ship!

  "Ship?” Aveline coughed nervously, still spitting up blood. Carla again wiped the blood from her mouth, but more tenderly this time, still looking deep into her eyes as if she was scrutinising her. Aveline leaned back away from her hands as she became even more uncomfortable in her presence.

  "A potential goldmine,” Carla said, releasing Aveline’s tension somewhat. “Unfortunately, we can't let you take it all for yourselves, but if you and your friends join us, things can be different, for sure." Carla smiled at Aveline while she brushed her fingers down her face with a wild, scheming smile, her touch playful and purposely seductive. “So, what do you think? Are your men and women up to the challenge?” Carla asked softly. “To join us and be the greatest force in the South. Unite our strengths and talents, so our weaknesses fade into obscurity,” she continued as she got up from the bed.

  “Maybe, but I think they are happy as they are,” Aveline replied anxiously, covering her chest with her hands.

  “Really, now,” Carla responded, darkening her tone, “and what is to become of you all, then?”

  “Become of us?” Aveline asked confused.

  “Your plans? Your aspirations? You do have some I assume?” she asked as she paced around the room, a finger to her mouth, deep in thought.

  “I don’t know, we get by from day to day,” Aveline replied cautiously.

  “Oh yes, you will get by for now.” She turned to look at Aveline with her blue, menacing eyes darkening. “But the future looks bleak, does it not?”

  “But no one knows what will happen tomorrow,” Aveline said, visibly distressed, sweat beginning to break on her brow.

  “Are you a fool?” Carla snapped. “There is no tomorrow. That is for sure!”

  “No tomorrow?” Aveline croaked, thinking frantically to resolve what felt like an uncomfortable interrogation.

  “Not if we stay still, hoping for things to improve by themselves.”

  “You mean, stay around here?”

  “No! It’s going to be the same everywhere, is it not?” Carla sounded frustrated that Aveline had missed the point.

  “We need to evolve,” Carla continued, pointing her finger at Aveline. “We need to rise above our awful circumstances,” she continued, raising her head as if thinking ahead and deep into the future.

  “Of course, everyone wants a better life,” Aveline said as she sat up on the bed, rubbing her legs for comfort.

  “It’s not just a question of a better life,” Carla said, deflecting Aveline’s remark. “Of course, as you said, everyone wants that, but do you see any lazy fucker doing anything about it?” Aveline was just about to open her mouth to speak when Carla waved her finger to stop her. “It’s about long-term stability; security, freedom from fear, knowing that there will be a tomorrow to wake up to.”

  “You mean as it was before?” Aveline proposed, saying what Carla obviously wanted to hear.

  “Exactly! Exactly! Carla exclaimed, waving her finger at Aveline again. “Like it was before all this shit. When you could wake up from your bed and get through the day peacefully without fighting for anything.”

  “Yes,” Aveline replied timidly.

  “You’re a bright girl, Aveline. You see it too, don’t you? But we need people to help us build this future and stamp out the renegades so that we can be free again, free to do what we like.”

  “But we are free, surely?” Aveline suggested, tiring of her dream. “We can do what we like, when we like, even more so than before.”

  “What?” Carla replied angrily, her nostrils flaring. “How can you compare now to before; we live in shit, eat shit, and defend ourselves from shit for brains!”

  Aveline looked down, embarrassed and a bit afraid. Carla paced the room, obviously in distress.

  Hit a nerve there, Aveline thought, like a poor little rich girl whose lost daddy’s support.

  “Sounds like you want a comfortable life and for someone to give it to you, or at least, someone to fabricate it for you,” Aveline said bravely, no longer caring where this would lead. Carla stormed over to Aveline and slapped her hard in the face, Aveline looking stunned.

  “Don’t you dare! You miss the point. I want it for everyone!” Carla said furiously.

  “Ok, ok,” Aveline said, pushing Carla’s hand away, “then why get so upset?”

  “I’m tired of this shit, sick of this life,” Carla said between deep gasps as she stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  Aveline took a deep breath, What a moody bitch! There are some deep wounds there, and someone is picking at her scabs, not allowing them to heal. She looked around the room, walking towards the door, daring to open it. She jumped, startled as a man quickly walked through.

  “Apologies, apologies, I should have knocked,” he said, catching her look of bewilderment. It was the man she had seen the day before. The guy who had stood over her, after she was pulled from her bike; tall, with shaven and blonde hair. There were paler blotches all over his hair and skin, bleached by the Sun.

  “No worries,” Aveline replied, regaining her composure.

  “Apologies about Carla, she’s not usually like that,” the man continued.

  I bet she’s always like that! She doesn’t act pretty.

  “Cain,” the man continued, not offering his hand but a friendly wink, accentuating his bright blue eyes.

  “Aveline.”

  “Yes, I know, but what I don
’t, is why you were out on the road alone?” Aveline pondered on how to answer as Cain fixed his gaze on her, narrowing his eyes with curiosity. She sensed this was small talk, a back door into her thoughts; he was fishing for something else.

  The ship, they’re paranoid we know about the ship!

  “A girl out alone on those dangerous roads, anything could happen?”

  “And indeed, it has. Here I am.” Aveline smiled nervously, hoping it didn’t show. Cain rubbed his chin slowly, Aveline finding the rasp of his stubble annoying. He maintained his fixed stare on her.

  He spoke again slow and relaxed. “There are many factions around here, that exist side by side, that tolerate each other, have done for years. The bandits, however, are a hiccup in this balance. They seek to stir up the factions, to cause trouble between them. We prefer peace, and they prefer chaos. Each has its benefits, I suppose.” He gave out a gentle laugh as he turned his gaze away from Aveline, before continuing. “One has stability, a future with prospects, and the other has uncertainty. Who knows where the latter will lead. Depends on your inclination, I suppose, to which you subscribe to; stability or chaos? Aveline shrugged, not sure anymore where this was heading.

  “Which way do you lean?” he asked.

  “Peace and stability of course.”

  “But you were out by yourself, going somewhere?”

  “So?”

  “Usually, there are at least two; you see our suspicion?”

  He thinks I’m an agent going between groups.

  “I was going to visit my step sisters; we have different fathers, so they live in a different group. We tend to live amongst both, actually.”

  “Interesting, the group to the north and the ones to the south, I guess? Aveline nodded, too nervous to speak. “Well, they’re the only ones. Must be a pleasant trip past the cove?”

  Shit, he must know I’ve seen the ship, that we’re all aware of the ship. Fuck, how stupid am I!

  “I usually travel at night, so wouldn’t know.”