Meteorite Strike (5 page)

A man in a white shirt approached them through the people. Sarah recognized him as Captain Klein. He'd walked through the cabin during the flight, saying hello to several of the passengers as he did. Now his hair was a mess and his perfectly ironed uniform was dirt-smeared and torn in places. A blue pilot's jacket hung loosely from his shoulders like a cape and he staggered a little when he walked. Klein's eyes were bloodshot and looked heavy, as if he hadn't slept for a week.

When he saw them he held up a hand, waving them back.

“Don't come any closer!” he ordered, his voice cracking a little with stress.

Daniel put out an arm to stop them moving forward.

“What's going on, Captain?” he called out.

“People are getting sick,” Klein replied, rubbing his eyes, as if it were a massive effort just keeping them open. “Must be something in the dust…making us sleep…”

Without warning, the captain fell to one knee, as if it were suddenly too much effort to stand upright.

“If you're not feeling it yet, get as far away from here as possible,” he said, staring at them desperately. “Don't come near us. It seems to be contagious.”

Sarah felt Robert gripping her arm so tightly she thought his nails might tear into her skin. Daniel ushered them both back.

“We're leaving,” he said quietly. “Now.”

“But we have to help…” Sarah objected.

Daniel caught her arm. “There's nothing we can do. Come on, quickly.”

Sarah pulled herself free of his grasp and ran towards the sleepers before he could grab her again.

“I said, we have to help,” she repeated, kneeling by the nearest group of people. It was a family by the looks of it: mum, dad and two kids. She placed a hand on the man's shoulder and shook him. He seemed to stir in his sleep momentarily, letting out a deep breath, but then remained motionless. Undeterred, Sarah moved on to the woman, shaking her more roughly.

“Hey, wake up!” she shouted at the sleeper. “You're going to die out here!”

There was no response. Sarah let the woman go and sat down on the sand. The sleeper's head fell back, mouth open, exposed. Sarah looked away.

“Sarah, get away from her,” Daniel called over. “He said they're infectious.”

“Come on,” Robert added, fear in his voice. “Maybe Daniel's right.”

She looked round at Captain Klein, who was watching the scene on his knees a few metres away. Sarah felt a sudden surge of anger at seeing him there, defeated when he should be taking charge of the whole mess. She stumbled over and pulled at his arm in an effort to rouse him.

“Help us!” she demanded. “You're the captain. You've got to do something!”

Klein looked up at her and she saw the desperation in his eyes.

“I'm sorry, I…” he replied, his voice barely a whisper as he fell back on the sand. Sarah placed a hand on his arm, but the pilot didn't move. Swallowing hard, she shifted him onto his back and picked up his fallen jacket, rolling it into a ball and placing it under his head like a pillow. She really couldn't think of anything else to do.

Sarah rose to her feet slowly. She walked back in silence to where Daniel and her brother were waiting.

“What's going on?” she asked desperately.

“I'm sorry, Sarah, I really don't know,” Daniel replied gently. “But we have to get out of here. Whatever's causing this could be spreading. Do you understand?”

She nodded reluctantly and allowed him to steer her and Robert from the crash site.

“You did a good job landing the plane, Captain,” Daniel called back as they walked away. Captain Klein gave no indication he'd heard.

Atop the ridge they took a moment to look back.

A hundred people slept on the sand amidst the broken seats and luggage that had been thrown from the plane. It was as if a magic wand had been passed over them like in some fairy tale.

Yet this was deadly serious.

“Come on,” Daniel said, pulling Robert away.

Taking a final look back, Sarah saw a few of the passengers still moving among the sleepers. She looked around for Nicole, but she was no longer anywhere to be seen. For a moment, Sarah wondered if they should go back for her and the others, but realized that Daniel was right: they had to get away from the crash site as fast as possible before they ended up as sleepers too.

Tearing her eyes away from the chilling scene, Sarah hurried down the other side of the ridge after Daniel and her brother.

6

Even after two hours' walk, the fading column of smoke from the crash site was still visible in the distance. The desert heat rose as the day went on and walking became even more difficult.

Robert started complaining every five minutes that he was thirsty, but Daniel kept a tight control on their supply of water. They didn't know how far they would have to walk to the next town, he argued. At this, Robert, who had become Daniel's biggest fan since the crash, started grumbling under his breath like he always did when he was about to go into a full sulk. Mum always ignored him when he got like that and Daniel seemed determined to do the same.

The sand of the desert had given way to a road of sorts, a firm dirt track that was about the width of a single car. It was easier on the feet than the shifting sand, but they made only slightly quicker progress. Overhead, there was no break in the ruddy, pendulous clouds.

They'd walked mainly in silence since leaving the plane, aside from Robert's complaining. None of them raised the issue of what they had seen again. Finally, Sarah could bear it no longer. Robert started to lag behind, so she took the opportunity to walk alongside Daniel.

“What do you think was going on back there?” she asked, a little breathless as they strode along. “You must have some idea.”

All she received in response was a shrug.

“Hey, I want to know what you think!” she demanded, poking his arm.

“I'm as much in the dark as you are,” Daniel replied, glancing round at her. “Maybe some kind of virus. Maybe something to do with the electromagnetism. Or maybe both.”

“Perhaps it came to earth on the meteorite,” Robert piped up, having quickened his pace so he could listen in to their conversation.

“And just what is ‘it'?” asked Sarah.

“The sickness, of course,” her brother replied as if she were being stupid. “The sleeping sickness might be from outer space. I saw on the telly that viruses can be carried on comets and meteors.”

Even in the muggy heat, Sarah shivered a little.

“We don't know that,” Daniel cut in, “so I don't see the point in speculating either way.”

Robert's face fell.

“But it's a good idea, Bobbie,” he added quickly, perking her brother up. Then he scratched his chin, as if thinking it over. “Perhaps they were all just pretending.”

Robert laughed at this and said, “Yeah, maybe they were just being really lazy.”

“Or sunbathing.”

“Working on their tans.”

Sarah laughed along despite herself, but stopped dead at a flash of light in the distance. A few seconds later a low rumble of thunder spread through the air. All three of them fell silent, looking in the direction of the lightning.

Another fork of lightning struck from the clouds and hit the ground somewhere near the horizon. Again there was a gap of a few seconds before the thunder came.

“We should get moving,” Daniel said, starting off again. “If it rains it's going to bring a lot of the dust down again. And there's nowhere to shelter out here.”

Sarah thought of the storm that had caused the plane to crash and the sickness it had brought with it. She didn't want to be out in the rain.

“I'm tired,” Robert moaned, dragging his feet. “We've been walking for ages. When are we going to stop?”

“When we find a town,” Daniel replied, a new edge to his voice. He set off at twice the speed, not bothering to check if they were following. Clearly he didn't want to be caught in the rain either.

Sarah took Robert's hand and started pulling him along. He resisted, however, and sat down in the middle of the track.

“I want a rest,” he said, folding his arms. Sarah was amazed at how he could change from laughing and happy to moody and sulky at the drop of a hat. He'd always been the same. She put her hands on her hips and prepared to give him a piece of her mind.

A shout from Daniel stopped her. He stood twenty metres up the road, pointing to a faded, hand-painted sign stuck in the ground. Sarah strained to see what it said.

Fresh milk, eggs, water. 2 km.

Pulling Robert to his feet, they set off with a new purpose. The air turned a little cooler as they walked, which was a relief, but also a reminder of the coming storm.

After another ten minutes they saw it in the distance: a single house by the side of the road. Sarah looked around at the empty landscape and wondered who would live in such a lonely place. The land certainly didn't look like it would be much good for farming, but then, what did she know?

“Is that a ute out front?” asked Daniel, straining his eyes to see. Sarah was momentarily confused, but understood what he was talking about when she made out the shape of a pick-up truck parked near the building.

With another ten minutes' walk they were getting close, despite Robert's renewed complaining and the rising wind, which was starting to whip dust around their faces again. Periodically, a severe gust of wind would almost knock them from their feet, but they struggled on.

“We're nearly there!” Sarah cried out as she shielded her eyes from another blast of dust-filled air. She tried not to think that it was probably the same dust that had carried the sleeping sickness to the survivors of the plane crash.

They reached a low fence that ran around the edge of the house and found a gate swinging open in the wind. Daniel led the way up to the front door of the wooden, single-storey building, stepping onto the long deck at the front. Only after he tried the handle of the door and found it locked did he bother to knock heavily with his fist.

“Nobody home,” he shouted to them over the wind. “I'll try the back.”

“Perhaps they're sleeping,” Sarah called back, but got no response.

Daniel disappeared round the side of the building and Robert pressed his face into her arm to shield it from the wind. Something heavy started to drum on the iron roof of the house. The rain was finally coming.

It was then that Sarah had the strangest feeling – a kind of tingling up her spine and through her brain. She was suddenly certain that something was happening at the back of the house. Somehow she could see Daniel in her mind's eye and knew that he needed help. It was like nothing she'd experienced before.

“Come on,” she said, dragging her brother round the side of the house to see if her instinct was right.

What she saw as they reached the rear of the building made her freeze and clutch Robert tighter.

A man stood in the open back door of the house. A towel was wrapped around his lower face as protection from the billowing sand. A short distance away, Daniel stood with his hands in the air.

The man had a shotgun aimed directly at Daniel's chest.

7

“Dad! Dad!”

Robert's shout made the man jerk the gun round in shock, but it was Daniel and Sarah who were the most surprised. Without warning, Robert slipped from Sarah's grasp and ran between Daniel and the gun.

“Robert!” Sarah cried above the sound of the wind.

“Stop pointing the gun at my dad!” he shouted at the man in the doorway, backing towards Daniel.

The man immediately lowered his weapon and pulled down the towel, revealing a bearded, sun-reddened face. He looked tired and confused.

“Is that your son?” the man demanded, waving the end of the shotgun in Robert's direction.

“Uh… yeah,” Daniel said, as if getting used to the idea himself.

The man looked round at Sarah.

“My daughter,” Daniel explained, placing a hand on Robert's shoulder. “We just want to shelter from the rain for a while. Please, for the kids.”

Huge drops of rain were starting to splatter into the dirt all around them, creating muddy blotches all around. With a nod the man lowered the gun and led them quickly inside the house.

“Thanks,” Sarah told the man as she joined Robert in the darkened kitchen. Looking around she saw four plates of half-eaten food laid out on the table, as if they had been abandoned mid-meal. The air had a musty smell to it.

The man leaned the gun against the door frame and motioned to the table. They sat as the rain hit. And what rain! It was as if a massive cauldron of water was being tipped out onto the house. Sarah looked through the window at the torrent pouring over the gutters and was thankful they weren't caught out in it.

“The name's Tom Barker,” the man said, pulling the towel from around his neck and throwing it down on the floor. He slumped into a kitchen chair as if exhausted.

“I'm sorry about the gun,” he continued. “I saw people coming and got worried. What with the bombs and everything.”

Daniel looked at him in confusion. “The bombs?”

Barker nodded his head towards the window.

“The bombs in the desert,” he explained. “There was the massive one that kicked up all the dust – we felt it. It almost shook the house down. Then we saw the explosion in the night. Who are we at war with?”

Daniel let out a little laugh and winked at Robert, who was sitting on his hands next to him.

“The big one wasn't a bomb, it was a meteorite. After that, you must have seen our plane come down. That's how we got here. Haven't you been watching the news?”

The man shook his head. “The TV's not working. Neither are the phones. Haven't been since last night. All the electricity's out.”

“The EMP,” Robert said and Daniel nodded.