“Yes, it wasn’t pretty to hear,” Mysti continued, Vevila clapping her hands at the thought. “Then, it all went quiet for a moment, the two ships just floating in the air. Suddenly, believe it or not, the poke must have really hurt as I just said, the maimed guy pulled out a gun and shot his opponent in the head, his man on the ground with the rope letting go and bolting away on his motorbike like a scared rabbit.”
“What a tragic story,” Ailsa said amused, everyone by this time hysterical with laughter.
Luke had to finish the story as Mysti couldn’t speak from the fits of giggles. “Then, the other guy on the ground pulled the shooters balloon downwards, and they too both bolted on their bikes, chasing the other I presume. The two ships were left dragging aimlessly across the plains with no pilots. Well, no live pilot in one, and no pilot at all in the other to fuel the canopies and keep the ships in the air. The ship with the dead captain eventually rolled over and burned.”
“And the other?” Serena asked excitedly.
“The other was up for grabs!” Mysti chipped in breathlessly, still laughing.
“Just waiting for another captain to jump in!” Vevila exclaimed.
“Indeed,” Luke said with a proud smile, “and that’s how you acquire an airship.”
“Cool!” Vevila shouted. “It would have been more fun to have shot the captain yourself, though,” she continued with a devilish smile, pointing her fingers in the air like a gun, making shooting gestures.
“Maybe so,” Mysti replied with a wry smile, “maybe so.”
The flames of the fire danced in everyone’s eyes, its reflection sharp and bright in the dark night.
“Can we go north Dad with Mysti?” Vevila asked. Airell ignored his daughter, looked at Luke sternly, and asked, “Who says it’s better up north, anyway, and where did you hear this?”
“Everyone we meet, apart from the bandits, appear to be attempting to move north,” Luke answered.
“But why?” Airell asked.
“Because there are loads of shrooms,” Serena said. “Shrooms, shrooms,” Vevila shouted as they both danced around on the sand.
“There’s no wind,” Mysti interrupted.
“No wind? Airell asked, not convinced.
“All the birds have been flying north for the last six months, and I haven’t seen any other animals for as long as I can remember.”
“Have you met anyone who has been north?” Airell asked seriously.
“We can take the car, Dad,” Vevila shouted, looking up at Luke and Serena.
“We could go together, them in the air and us on the road,” Serena added.
“No,” Airell said embarrassed. “You’re looking at one, who knows what's there. I came from the north 15 years ago,” Airell said. “It took a direct hit from the supernova. Everything was obliterated; the ground was scorched, trees ignited, and animals turned to dust.” There was a brief moment of silence, his daughters looking up attentively before he continued. “There’s nothing up north. Fuck all! You're mistaken; the rest, whoever they are, are delusional. Desperate hope has blinded them.” Vevila and Serena giggled but quickly covered their mouths and bowed their heads to the ground when they saw that their dad was angry. “North! My house, everything I own is up north, lying as ashes on the ground,” Airell said, a tear in his eye. “Who the fuck wants to go up north. If you think there is shite down South, there is shite all up the North!” Vevila and Serena were starting to look upset so Ailsa gently led them away.
“Come on girls, let’s get those hands warmed back up in front of the fire,” she whispered to them.
“You can try, and I don’t blame you,” Airell continued, “but the North is a dead zone, more so than here.”
“There are tales of the North. It seems a great rejuvenation has occurred. All the ashes of the dead have made the land fertile, compared to the barren south. No wind blows, and it even rains and snows. Plants have regrown, and animals flourish there, and so could we,” Luke said.
“Who tells you this bullshit?” Airell asked, unconvinced.
“It snowed just north of here last week.”
“Who says?”
“We heard them talk about it.”
“Who talked about it?”
“The bandits.”
“Bandits!”
Airell twisted his face and took a deep breath before continuing, “And you believed them?”
“Yes!”
“But why?” Airell held his hands up in despair.
“Because they had water?” Mysti interrupted.
“Water?” Ariel’s voice softened.
“Lots of it. Containers full. Trucks full!”
“That’s why the streams have kept flowing,” Airell murmured, looking east across to the gorge.”
“Streams, there are streams here?” Mysti asked, Luke looking on intently, his brow sweating in the cool night air.
“Yes, they started flowing a few months ago, deep in the gorge towards the east.” Airell pointed over to show Luke and Mysti where the gorge was.
“Then the water must flow from the North!” Mysti exclaimed. “The gorge runs north-south!”
“We must go there!” Mysti continued. “We must try!” staring expectantly across at Luke.
“It must be true then,” Luke said quietly, looking north.
“The water could be coming from anywhere.” Airell protested, doubting his own conviction.
“Anywhere?” Luke said, still looking north.
“An underground lake, maybe?” Airell suggested, looking beaten.
Mysti scoffed at the idea, “It would have run dry years ago without rain to replenish it,” she said. Airell looked north saying nothing, the fire crackling gently behind him, Vevila and Serena almost asleep under Aisha’s arms
“We must try,” Mysti said again, looking eagerly at Luke. “We must go!”
“Yes!” Luke whispered. “Of course,” looking at her excitedly.”
“It’s all hearsay and of snow,” Airell said. “Probably a desert like here, but a frozen one. They will find you both entombed in ice, years from now!”
The fire behind them had by now died to glowing embers, all three girls asleep in each other’s arms. Airell walked across and stared into the red-hot coals, deep in contemplation about the North. Mysti and Luke lied down next to them, both looking towards Airell, searching his thoughts, their eyes pleading him and his girls to join them.
Out Run
Skylar drove north along the seafront. It was morning, and the smell of the crisp sea air was invigorating. She cruised at a steady 60 mph, the bike feeling comfortable, its engine ticking over with a graceful growl. The city had been fine for a while, but she needed to get out, find some space. She felt good, the city had fed and clothed her well, and she had made a good friend in Andy, but it was time to move on. It was time to explore again. Andy was sorry to see her go and said the North had its own problems, but wouldn’t say what. He conceded that she would probably be better off there, but his smile hid the truth.
She remembered him saying. “The plains to the east are diseased with bad blood. Disorder and confusion reigns. Go north, there is refuge there, I see it in my dreams, and I see you there with a smile.” He had said it genuinely enough, but she sensed he knew something, something he wasn’t willing to tell her.
She came to a sharp bend in the road, leaning into it, feeling the wheels grip the ground, the morning Sun flickering through the dead trees. She had never owned a motorcycle before, but her dad had taught her how to ride one when she was young. She had picked this one up from a car dealer outlet, a Harley chopper. It looked lonely on the shop floor amongst all the cars and pickup trucks, so she kicked in the door of the shop’s office, located the keys and drove straight out.
So true you never forget, she thought. She opened the throttle a little more, taking it to 90 mph, the bike still feeling comfortable, the engine growling a little louder but still singing gracefully. The Sun was g
etting hotter as she flicked down her shades, brushing back her shiny raven hair, letting it flow behind her in the airstream. She looked north ahead of her towards the horizon.
How far north does one go, she thought. I guess until I find what I’m looking for, whatever that may be, she mused. The road became dead straight as it veered away from the sea, the lifeless plains coming back into view. The same plains she had walked across and survived.
This time, it will be easier with the help of my steel horse, she thought, patting the bike on its side. “Come on babe, do me proud!” she sang aloud, this time tapping it with her feet. If I cover a few hundred miles per day, something new should turn up.
She continued northwards as the Sun rose higher, becoming a pale yellow orb as the sand began rising into the gusty air. Skylar slowed to a safer 50 mph as the gusts caught her bike, causing it to wander along the road. Visibility was getting down to about 100 yards, the whole atmosphere becoming a dirty brown soup. She pulled her scarf up over her nose and mouth, switching on her headlights as the Sun rose higher but the day darker. She wondered where she was really going, the future uncertain.
Life is tough, she thought. The strong prey on the weak, and the devious on the goodhearted. She could see the beam of her headlights reflecting off the swirling fog of dust ahead of her. They say life is an illusion, but it’s just a scam, she continued to ponder. If you play the game right, get dealt the right cards, then all the better for you. Get the wrong cards and you will have to pay and pay until there is no deal left, borrowing from the devil until you die, tired and defeated.
It was now almost as dark as night, a steady stream of sand cutting across Skylar’s face making her skin feel raw and sensitive. She could see a funnel cloud form ahead, its twirling tube reaching down onto the plains and becoming a full-blown twister. Sparks and lightning bolts illuminated its funnel as it ground the dirt into fine dust. It raced quickly westwards ahead of her, until it was out over the sea, disappearing back into the murky skies that spawned it. Sand streamed across the road, quickly covering its surface, visible only by its unique flatness that cut through the undulating plains.
Those we choose to make a living here will fail and are mad to try, she thought, and if it is like this everywhere, then everyone and everything are damned.
It was now completely dark, impossible to see as Skylar pulled into the side of the road. It was raining sand and dust in a howling gale. She sighed, trying to peer through the darkness, reflecting on the dark skies above. Things are getting worse; the weather is going from unbearable to diabolical. She instinctively loosened her scarf a bit as the air became suffocating, dust immediately filling her lungs making her cough. Fuck! she thought, tightening the scarf back again, holding her hand over her mouth. They’re going to find a lot dead today, she morbidly thought. When was the last time I saw a bird or animal out here?
She remembered what Andy had told her, “Beware on the road, keep moving and never stop for no one.” Maybe that was the reason behind his tainted smile, a girl all alone on the highway? She immediately got back on her bike and drove through the sandstorm again. The reflections of her headlights in the fog were dazzling. She was down to 30 mph, any faster would be dangerous. She started to panic, thinking she could see someone in her mirrors, a shadowy figure just out of sight stalking her.
My mind is playing tricks on me, she thought. She tried to go a little faster. This is ridiculous, I can’t keep this up, can’t see fuck all. She looked in her mirrors again. Through the mist she could still see a shadowy figure, it's arms out wide as if riding a chopper. Who is that, for fuck sake? She looked ahead, trying to keep to the road, quickly glancing in the mirror again, this time just seeing the murky swirls of sand. The storm was now getting intense, darkness enveloping the road ahead. Fuck! There was a flash of light in the corner of her eye, coming from her right side mirror. There’s definitely somebody fucking following me, she thought, her heart now racing. Sweat began to team down her back, and she felt her throat go dry.
“Calm down little missy,” she said to herself. “Just sparks from another funnel.” Nonetheless, out of fear she increased her speed to 40 mph and then to 45 mph, dread consuming her, driving almost blind through the driving sand. She dared not look behind her or in her mirrors, now absolutely terrified. She could barely hold the throttle back, her palms shaking and greased with sweat. Shit, who the fuck is that? as another flash scintillated in her mirrors. Then another, until it became persistent and blinding.
“Somebody’s fucking with me. Look in the mirror you scared little bitch!” she shouted aloud. Bandits maybe? She could see a shadowy figure again through the murky air. She was more convinced this time. There is somebody behind me, no doubt. She looked over her shoulder to get a better view, seeing a flash from a headlight beam. For fuck sake, this isn’t funny!
She remembered again what Andy had said, “Beware on the road. Keep moving, and never stop for no one.” She could remember how serious his face was when he had said that, staring her sternly in the eye. He told me she was a fool to go, but respected her spirit to try. Maybe he wants to overtake, that’s why he’s flashing his lights? She was just about to slow and pull to the side when she thought, Fuck that, maybe he wants to kill me, have his way with me first. Shit! No sooner had she thought that, not one, not two, but several headlights burst into full beam behind her. Christ! What is this? Who are they! The headlight beams dazzled her from the side mirrors as her adrenaline went into overdrive. She could feel her pulse thumping through her legs, arms and hands as she struggled to pull back on the throttle almost frozen with fear. She was up to 50 mph, then 60 mph, then almost 70 mph. She was driving blind, the sand blowing across the flat road her only guide. “Jesus!” she exhaled, breathing frantically as she still saw the headlights in her mirrors. Her mouth was completely dry as she struggled for air, taking the bike past 80 mph and then up to 90 mph. She squinted her eyes to focus better, quickly wiping the sand from her shades with her fingers, trying not to lose balance of the bike as it meandered through the dry storm. The chasing headlights illuminated the murky gloom ahead of her as if she was driving into a dark mirror. They were gaining. She could now hear the thunderous raw of the convoy behind her. The lead biker’s calm composure was evident as he lay back on his chopper, his scarf flapping in the wind. There were, at least, three vehicles; two bikes and a van. What the hell should I do? Skylar thought. She was starting to feel fatigued from the constant rush of adrenaline. How long can I keep this up? There was a brief glimpse of Sunlight streaming through the swirling gloom of dust and sand, but it was false hope as the billowing dark clouds swallowed the light, plunging her view ahead into a pit of darkness again. The lead biker was now almost up by her side, but she dared go any faster. “Fuck!” she screamed. She tried to swerve as she saw a rock appear in the road ahead, but there was no time. It exploded under her wide wheels, sending fragments into the air. Shrapnel struck the pursuing bikers, causing them to briefly lose speed; however, their confidence soon returned as they sped right up back behind her. This is turning into a difficult situation, she thought, nodding her head nervously in agreement. A difficult situation indeed. The road led her into a sheltered valley. Suddenly the wind died along with the impenetrable visibility. She increased her speed to 90 mph, then to 100 mph, feeling the engine begin to work as it growled with menace. The pursuing bikers began lagging behind, but with a daring wheelie, one of the bikers quickly gained speed and was right up with her again. The biker succeeded in getting right alongside her. She looked across, the reasons for chasing her in his face and eyes hidden by scarf and goggles. He was bald, and by choice she noticed, shaven to the skin. He needs to get a better barber, she thought, as she momentarily saw nick marks on the side of his head before concentrating on the road ahead again. She pulled back on the throttle, even more, moving up to 120 mph, the male biker matching her speed within seconds. No one’s going to win this race without dying, she thought. She look
ed in her mirrors, the van was way back, but the other biker was close behind like he was waiting to be called upon. No way can I keep this up, she thought. They’re waiting for me to fuck up. She could see the biker move closer alongside her, its wheels spraying up sand either side of them, caking his jeans a dark orange brown. He pulled down his scarf and smiled. Shit! Fuck! she thought. The smile of a madman, a lunatic, a murderer, a molester even, she could see them all in that sadistic smile. He ripped the scarf from his face in one swift movement. He stuffed it into his pocket, but half of it hung out, billowing in the fast stream of air. He smiled again, before blowing her a kiss. He then laughed hysterically, banging his hands on the handlebars. These are bad signs, she thought. Sadistic tendencies laced with plenty of testosterone. This guy has some depraved urges he needs to satisfy. Could turn out a bad day for me, and a good one for him. She looked across at him again, noting his demented grin as he savoured the air rushing past his face. He turned his head to look at her again. She quickly turned away, anxious to avoid a direct stare. First, the weather’s not quite right, and now this. The demented Joker that has come to make my day a bit more interesting, perhaps a bit more exciting, probably just wants a friendly chat, to get him through his dull day,” she anxiously mused. He suddenly screamed and shouted something ominous through the whistling stream of air.
To Skylar, it sounded like, “Nice day for a ride sweetie, lovely day indeed!” See could see his cracked yellow teeth; his tongue tinged a messy yellow. He continued looking at her with his weird grin. He pulled another wheelie and sped ahead of her, the motorbike behind gaining until it was at her side. The man in front looked over his shoulders at her, still grinning, while the rider to her right was already watching her, a woman with unkempt hair, blond and tangled, her face covered in sweat. She too smiled, her lips dry and cracked. It was a smile full of confidence and knowing, which greatly unsettled Skylar.
Which one’s the bitch, she thought, the man or the woman? Don’t let them know you're scared. This witch, she’s no princess, and the clown, no hero! The woman grabbed what looked like a hose and aimed it at her, sending a jet of flames engulfing the space between them, Skylar feeling its heat scorch the air. She aimed again, sending another wave of flames directly towards her, Skylar swerving away, almost hitting the rocky verge. This witch means business, she thought. I’m just game to them, just amusement to enrich their dull day. The biker ahead was laughing hysterically, nodding his head gleefully as if he had read her thoughts. Then Skylar saw it, up ahead through the dusty mist, a track leading off the road and up into the hills. At the last moment, she took it, leaving both bikes speeding along the road below her as she raced up the track. She could see them both brake sharply as she shuddered up the bumpy track, holding onto the handlebars for dear life, the bikes below undertaking impressive 180 sliding turns, throwing up dust into the air. The van screeched to a stop, too wide for the track, blocking the frustrated riders as they waved their fists in the air for it to move. The track soon veered her off to the west, leaving the vehicles out of sight.
The Sands of Borrowed Time Page 14
