“Not sure,” she replied slowly, shaking her head as she looked at the long cylindrical vessel that stood proudly, its base covered up by drifting sand that had blown up and collected around its sides. To its left was a red scaffolding structure attached to the vessel by narrow gangways.
“Looks like a large bullet,” Isla said.
“With windows! Do you think you can take a ride in it?” Dagger barked again, continuing his run towards the structure.
“It’s pointing upwards at the sky. Why upwards I wonder?”
Isla drove the truck slowly towards the giant bullet, the ground flattening out to hard, baked soil as they neared it, pulling up as close as she could before stopping. They both got out and walked up the steep sand banks towards it, Dagger chasing close behind as he barked feverishly. Isla shielded her eyes with her hand as she peered up to its top, a few hundred feet above them, while Summer brushed her hand against its white metallic surface, feeling its solidity.
“Shall we?” Isla asked, pointing to the steps that led up the inside of the red scaffolding. Summer shrugged her shoulders feeling apprehensive at the thought.
“Come on, at least for the view from the top. It’s such a nice day; we will be able to see for miles.” Isla continued, already walking towards the steps. Summer reluctantly followed, feeling something was not quite right. Dagger ran between them, on ahead, soon reaching the steps and leapt up them excitedly not waiting for Isla or Summer.
“What about the truck?” Summer asked.
“It’ll be fine,” Isla replied. “Anyhow, I have the glow plug, so nobody’s going to get far unless they’re willing to push it through all that sand!” They both stumbled up the rest of the sand bank until they got to the red scaffolding.
Summer looked up as she caught her breath, “It’s a long way to the top, Isla. Still sure you want to get up there?”
Isla nodded, “Why not, we’ll be up there in no time?” They climbed through the gaps in the scaffolding and started to climb the steps, one by one as the stairs double backed in on itself through a series of flights, leading them to the top. The wind got stronger the higher they climbed, whistling through the metal framework in hysterical bursts. Halfway up they stopped to catch their breaths and looked out across the plains.
“Sand, sand and more sand,” Summer joked. “Quite an impressive view if you’re fond of sand.” Isla smiled and gave Summer a playful little shove, pretending to push her off the steps and over the rails.
“Don’t do that; my legs feel like they’ve turned to jelly!” Summer protested.
Isla took to the steps once again, running up this time, “Come on, we’re almost there!” she shouted down to Summer. The steps shuddered and clanged with every step, feeling more and more unstable the closer they got to the top as it swayed in the breeze. Summer began to feel more and more anxious, but it was not their mercy at the hands of the wind that troubled her. She felt a presence that somebody was lurking here, perhaps watching them. She stopped and looked around, up and down the steps, but there was nobody, nothing except the eager footsteps of Isla ahead of her. She reluctantly followed, her nerves on edge, until she finally reached the top, Isla waiting there impatiently for her. Dagger was crouched down between Isla’s legs, looking pleased with himself that he had got to the top first.
“What kept, you?” she asked.
“Oh, you know, got stuck behind some old people,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders.
“Look across the gangway,” Isla eagerly said, pointing to a door. Summer looked at the door, feeling a bit spooked.
“You okay, Summer, you’re looking a little uneasy?” Summer shook her head quickly as if to shake off her discomfort.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. They both walked across the dizzying gangway as it swayed in the gusty wind, its height and exposure making each step, each heartbeat, feel like their last. Dagger trotted behind them wondering what they were so nervous about, urging them to hurry up with a few friendly barks.
“Should we knock?” Isla asked, turning to look at Summer’s frightened face.”
“Why?”
“In the old world, it was a polite way of introducing your intentions to meet those inside?”
Summer gave her a scathing look, “You think there’s someone inside?” Isla nodded.
“Me too,” Summer replied, calling her bluff, but she felt it as if someone was near.
“Only one way to find out then,” Isla said, knocking the door hard. They both waited. Nothing.
Isla knocked the door again, shouting, “Anybody home?” Still no answer. Dagger barked loudly, scratching his paws frantically down the door. She pulled down on the door handle; it was unlocked but heavy. She struggled against its weight but finally managed to pull it open. They peered inside at the seats that pointed upwards towards a control panel.
“It’s a ship!” Summer exclaimed, kneeling to pat Dagger on the head. She tugged playfully on his collar as he cheekily drooped his tongue from his mouth.
“You think it still flies?” Isla asked as she entered. She climbed into the seat and sat back, looking out of the windows above the control console. Summer walked inside nervously towards where Isla was seated, looking at her dreamy face.
“Try the ignition,” Summer joked.
“No, can’t see one, they’re too many buttons. It all looks a bit tricky, too complicated.”
“It’s stuck in the sand anyhow,” Summer said as she continued searching the small cockpit.
“There’s no steering wheel; I wondered how they steered her?”
“Maybe they just aimed her like a gun,” Summer suggested.
Isla giggled, “But what if they missed?” Summer ignored the question as Dagger barked attentively, looking at a card on the ground, pushing it with his paw towards Summer. It looked like a playing card on the end of a necklace.
“What is it, Dagger?” Summer asked as he looked up curiously into her eyes. She picked the card up, showing it to Isla. There were some words and a name George against a white background with blue stars.
“Cape Canaveral,” Isla said as she read the words on the card. “It also has the name of the ship, what we tried to read earlier on its shell. They have the same strange symbols written here.” She looked at the back, puzzled by a series of black stripes, all different widths contained within the area of a small rectangle.
“Maybe it’s an old word for Carnival,” Summer suggested, “that word, Canaveral?”
Isla looked at her not too convinced, “Maybe,” she said, then looked at the picture of George on the card.
“He doesn’t impress me much as a pilot of a ship!”
“Me neither,” Isla added, “he’s a bit, I don’t know, too normal looking, I guess.”
Isla flung the card on the floor, “Bye, Bye, Georgy,” she laughed as Dagger pawed at it.
“Whatever George’s role was; he isn’t around to tell us unless he’s hiding in the toilet back there.” Summer giggled. “Let’s go; this place is starting to bore me.”
“Ok, ok, let’s go,” Isla agreed. “It’s been a complete waste of time; there’s nothing up here for us.”
Isla jumped down from the seat and was just about to exit the door when she abruptly stopped, holding Summer back with her arm.
“What’s the matter?” Summer nervously asked.
“What’s that? Can you hear footsteps?” Isla replied. Summer shook her head.
“You sure?” Isla asked as a series of clangs vibrated up the steps. Dagger started to whine as Isla and Summer looked eagerly down the stairwells.
“And now?” Isla asked.
“Shit!” Summer exclaimed under her breath. “Do you see anybody?” Dagger peered out of the door, stretching his neck as he gazed down through the flights of stairs, starting to growl.
“No, not yet,” Isla replied.
“What do you mean, not yet?
“Maybe it’s the wind?” Summer peered around Isla, taking
a good look down the flights of stairs, keen to get validation of her theory.
“The wind?” Summer asked.
“Yes, I still don’t see anybody, do you?” Summer took another good look down the flight of stairs with baited breath but saw nothing. Dagger was still growling. She exhaled the pent up nervousness from her lungs, only to hear them for sure; the footsteps resume their slow, steady journey up the steps.
“Shit, again, you must hear that?” Isla whispered. Summer nodded as she saw a figure get up from a rest, before turning to resume his journey up the next flight of stairs.
“He must have seen the buggy and know we’re here,” Isla anxiously spoke.
“You think so? Seems a bit brave to come up on his own. We could be anybody?” Summer replied, her eyes glued to the figure slowly climbing the steps up towards them, his heavy boots now clearly audible with every step he took. Dagger’s growl turned to a bark, Isla quickly kneeling to quiet him with a few gentle strokes.
“Then he must have seen us arrive in the buggy, two young girls all alone. We must look like a cheap and easy takeaway.”
“Depends on what he thinks is easy and who he wants for starters?” They both looked at each other anxiously, beads of sweat were trickling down their brows.
“Shit, this isn’t funny!” Summer croaked, feeling acid build in her chest. “What’s the plan?”
“Plan?”
“Yes, plan?”
“We need to throttle him.”
“Throttle him?
“Yes, before he throttles us!”
Summer looked at Isla with searching eyes, “How shall we throttle him?” Isla shrugged, looking lost.
“Well, the knives, the guns, everything is in the buggy,” Isla said, so we need to improvise.
“Great, fucking great, I’m not a good improviser,” Summer replied, wringing her wrist anxiously. “Maybe he has the knives guns and everything; that’s why he is so brave to come up alone!”
The steps continued getting louder with each moment, with each step, his figure getting clearer as they both looked down at him anxiously as he continued slowly climbing the stairs.
“He doesn’t look armed,” Summer whispered, barely able to talk. Dagger looked down at him inquisitively, assuming a rigid, defensive stance.
“Depends on what’s under the trench coat, I suppose,” Isla said, Summer beginning to look distressed. The man stopped, sat down on the steps, and lit a cigarette. He inhaled long and deep like he needed it, coughing a little as he exhaled, the sickly smell of nicotine quickly drifting up to the girls. He looked out across the desert, calm and relaxed, his greasy long hair billowing in the breeze.
“He can’t know we’re here,” Summer whispered. “Look at him, does he look like he’s searching for someone?”
“Maybe he’s certain that we’re trapped, that we can’t get down without passing him, taking his time, planning his moves,” Isla replied quietly in Summer’s ear. The man took a final wheeze on his cigarette before flicking it out of the scaffolding, watching it fall its long descent to the dusty ground below. Summer looked frantically around the cockpit as she heard the guy begin to cough.
Not good for the lungs my friend, they make you slow and old. She looked for anything she could use as a weapon, across the control panel, and along the floor, but there was nothing. Her heart sank as she heard the footsteps start again, slow and ominous as their metallic clanks got louder and louder. She turned to look at Isla, but she appeared as worried and desperate as herself, frantically tying her hair back from her eyes. Dagger began to growl deeply, his sharp teeth showing as he snarled.
“I’m ready for anything,” she said, not sounding too convinced as she took out her hair pin and held it in her hands like a blade, her hair falling over her face again. Summer thought she looked like a person making her last stand, her eyes wide with terror. She swallowed hard as the footsteps came up the last flight of stairs, their vibrations felt by the girls in the cockpit as the gangway began to shake with the man’s weight. Isla’s hands desperately moved over the door as she looked for a lock but there was none.
“We’re fucked,” she said as they both watched the man casually walk along the gangway.
“Bonsoir,” the man said as he peered his head through the doorway as Dagger tore into his jeans, pulling on them this way and that.
“Sorry?” Isla stammered out as she watched the commotion begin.
“Good evening,” the man replied as he tried to shake Dagger from his leg.
“Hi,” they both said, unable to control their shakes as Dagger backed off, looking up at the man, barking in protest.
“I saw you girls come over from the west, across the dunes. I thought I would come up and say hi.”
“Hi,” they whimpered again, a bit confused at the man’s friendliness, Summer instructing Dagger to sit as he growled feverishly.
“Hey, no need to be scared,” he smiled. “I’m lost,” he laughed as he opened up his trench coat and held his arms out wide. “I have nothing I could hurt you with,” he continued as he looked down at the hairpin in Isla’s hand. He chuckled again, “I have the same problem. “The sand gets in your hair, your hair gets in your eyes, and your eyes begin to burn like fire.” He smiled again as Isla and Summer looked at each other sighing deeply, a bit relieved that their fears about the man were looking unfounded.
Isla finally mustered up the courage to speak as Dagger’s growls turned to whines of confusion, “You’re lost you said?” Isla and Summer, still a little afraid that the man might pull a fast one.
“Lost, wandering, searching. I don’t know what you call it these days. I think we’re all a little lost,” he replied sincerely, still looking at the hairpin in Isla’s hands. Dagger began sniffing at the man’s shoes.
“Sorry,” she said as she tucked it back into her hair, looking across to Summer, not sure whether she was addressing the man or her friend. He smiled again as he offered them a cigarette. They both shook their heads.
“Neither shall I then; it would be a bit bad mannered to pollute the lungs of those who do not partake in the habit.” Summer thought the man a little peculiar, if in a pleasant way, both by his manners and his dress sense.
He must be cooking in that coat; it must be approaching 40 degrees out there, she thought, looking at the man’s sweat, sodden hair. Isla looked down across the desert, looking for a vehicle, only to see their truck. He sensed her curiosity as he turned to look down at their truck himself.
“Believe it or not, I can’t drive,” he said. “I just can’t do it, you know. I get all nervous and end up stalling all the time. The girls courteously laughed but were not entirely convinced by his story.
“It’s embarrassing, it truly is, and not very helpful in these days,” he continued. "My feet have perpetual blisters and my legs eternally ache. “Why it took me so long to catch you girls up.”
“We didn’t see you,” Summer said, looking at Isla and then back to the man. “It’s why we’re a little alarmed.” The man waved his arm, brushing off their concerns, bending down to pat Dagger gently on the head.
“Not to worry, I do apologise and understand what you’re saying, but I haven’t seen anybody for eons and wanted to catch up on all the latest gossip.”
“Gossip,” Isla asked, surprised at his use of that word, beginning to think he was a little eccentric also. Dagger looked to the man panting, feeling more at ease in his presence, sensing that the girls were also.
“You know, the news,” he replied, “What’s been happening?”
“The news?” Isla asked.
The man sensed her confusion, “I guess you know about as much as I do, but a little information shared can be of mutual benefit in times like these.” The man went for his cigarette pack again, but thought better, leaving them in his pocket. He began to look a bit more serious,
“Everyone’s going north, just as they are leaving there,” he said with a wink.
“And
why are they leaving?” Isla asked, sounding confused, looking across at Summer’s equally perplexed face.
“I was hoping you could tell me that.”
“And who are they?”
“I was hoping you could tell me that too?” Isla shrugged her shoulders, and Summer held her hands in the air, pursing her lips.
The man began to sense their annoyance, thinking his chat must sound like riddles, “By the way, my name is David,” he said, stepping boldly forward to shake their hands. Summer leant back, a little surprised at his sudden introduction mid-conversation but shook his hand nevertheless, while Isla spoke their names. They both felt that his grip was a bit over keen, looking at each other anxiously. Dagger barked, and David patted his head again.
Maybe he truly hasn’t seen anybody in a long while, she thought.
“Welcome to the Cape,” he said warmly. “Hope your hearts aren’t set on a spacewalk?”
“Spacewalk?” Summer asked.
“Well, you’re in the cockpit of the space shuttle,” he said as they became more bewildered with each sentence he spoke.
“Maybe a little before your time. The space shuttle was the pinnacle of the American space programme…”
“American?” Summer interrupted.
“Yes, America,” the guy laughed. “The greatest civilisation ever to have lived, if a little paranoid,” he continued, holding his hands high in the air with pride.
“I guess your American then?” Summer asked.
“Of course,” the guy said with a nod.
“So why didn’t they stop the star from exploding then,” Isla asked, “if they were so great?”
“What? the guy asked, looking a little taken aback by the question.
“Why didn’t they save everyone?”
“What, you can’t stop…”
“Just kidding man, just kidding,” Isla chuckled. “You looked so proud of your heritage there, that I thought I’d bring you back down to Earth if you excuse the play on words.” David laughed, looking a little embarrassed.
“You’re American too,” he finally spoke after regaining his composure.
“As you said a little before our time,” Isla replied.
The Sands of Borrowed Time Page 28
