The Sands of Borrowed Time (3 page)
Read The Sands of Borrowed Time Online
Authors: Jeffry Winters
“Dad will fucking kill us,” Rhoswen uttered miserably.
“No, he won’t. He doesn’t even know we’re out and about,” Riana protested as they walked along the bridle path that cut through the dead forest towards home. They had been out for a stroll but had been taken by surprise at the sudden and unusual rainfall.
“He fucking will, though,” Rhoswen objected harshly. “We’re soaking bloody wet, our feet are covered in mud, and we have probably been missed by now. He’s gonna be well pissed off. He told us not to come out this way,” she continued. “Look at it, it hasn’t bloody rained for months, but now it’s coming down hard and fucking fast, just to piss us little wenches off,” she moaned, watching the once baked ground and dirt turning into a muddy sludge, her feet sliding this way and that. She could feel her long, black hair stuck to her face, her clothes hanging heavy on her sodden skin.
“We should have gone back before it got dark,” she continued to complain, flailing her arms in the air.
“Remember what Dad told us about the forest at night,” she continued.
“I’m bastard starving,” Riana brazenly interrupted, her bright blue eyes mocking Rhoswen’s sorry face, ignoring her reservations.
“Oh, shut the fuck up, you’re always bloody starving,” Rhoswen swiftly replied with a vicious glare.
“Then we should get some decent blooming food, then, shouldn’t we,” Riana complained.
“But there fucking ain’t, you know that,” Rhoswen answered, annoyed that her sister was always complaining about food. It was true, though, she thought, but when people grumbled on about it, it just brought it into the light more, like they were rubbing everyone’s nose deeper into their misery. The rain was relentless through the leafless trees, a constant drumming of droplets onto their already wet heads that trickled down their backs.
“Fuck...! What the fucking hell was that?” Rhoswen suddenly said, visibly alarmed.
“What?” Riana replied. “What you muttering on about now, you dippy cow? You’ve scared the living daylight out of me.”
“There, look, over there,” Rhoswen insisted, pointing her finger to a place ahead through the trees.”
“You ‘ave lost it, my dear sister,” Riana replied, chuckling nervously.
“Look, are you fucking blind?” Rhoswen whispered harshly, grabbing Riana firmly by the hand.
“Why are you whispering, and don’t squeeze my arm,” Riana replied, finding herself whispering also. Rhoswen grabbed her arm tighter and put her finger to her lips as if to say hush. She pointed again, out into the forest.
“Fucking look!” she repeated in a harsh, muffled tone. Riana grabbed her sister also by the hand, her grip even firmer and pulled her close.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she replied, almost inaudible. Dad has scared you with those stupid fucking, fairy stories,” both turning to look where Rhoswen had pointed. Through the gloom and lifeless trees, they both saw nothing, just the rain falling through a fine, hanging mist. Nevertheless, the pupils of their blue eyes now wide and black with terror.
“For fuck's sake, you’re scaring me Rhoswen; there’s fuck all there.”
“There fucking is,” Rhoswen insisted, whispering through clenched teeth.
“What then?” Riana now angry, lifting her whisper in defiance? There was the sound of breaking branches and slow squelching footsteps.
“Fucking shit!” they both exclaimed quietly under their breaths.
“Shit!” Riana said again, unable to contain her fear, both looking timidly to where the sound came from. This time, Riana saw something.
“Fucking shit. What the fuck is it?” she asked, shivering with fear.”
“Come on,” Rhoswen insisted, pulling on her sister’s wet blouse. “Let’s keep moving.” Riana was speechless and obeyed immediately, her footsteps sounding anxiously loud, she thought, given the situation. Again, Riana saw a shadow in the mist, flitting between the trees.
A small, dark figure, maybe?
she thought.
“That’s not fucking human, is it?” Riana feebly asked, the question remaining unanswered as they hurried onwards between the dead trees. Rhoswen looked across, her eyes glazing over with fear as she saw it there, standing right there, all alone up against a tree. Its head was small and dark, with crystalline blue eyes, staring at them both through the falling rain, shimmering a creepy intelligence like it somehow knew them. The girls bolted like scared mares, running frantically, both out of their minds in terror, slipping, sliding, and tripping, any which way they could, until they could see the comforting fires of the camp, breathing exhaustively, not daring to look back.
Sunlight had been so harsh since the flash had torn up the sky. It was as if a knife had split open the Earth’s skin, a wound that was deep and slow to heal. It was painful to see without sunglasses and the skin burnt easier without cream or shade. Some thought it was because the ozone had been stripped away during the flash, while others considered the Sun had changed somehow, becoming hotter and more intense. Even so, some speculated that the remnants of the supernova were washing the Earth with cosmic rays, and the Sun was not to blame at all.
Whoever was correct
, Daniel thought,
didn’t matter. What had become was, and that is what we have to deal with. No use complaining. Get on with it,”
he continued to ponder.
The details aren’t important, only survival is.
He walked up the empty highway, soil blowing across the tarmac, whiplashing his skin as shimmering waves of heat rose upwards, blurring the landscape ahead. Everything was dry and desolate, void and lifeless. Dead trees were scattered across this barren vista. Some had already fallen; their roots long dead and incapable of supporting their bodies. However, some were still standing, defiant even in death, their tortuous, leafless branches pointing upwards accusingly at the supernova. It was their last stand. Cracks and fissures lined the clay-like soil that had been baked dry many times over, with no hint of water remaining. Even the road had given up the ghost. The tarmac was fading with every beating ray of the Sun as it shone in the dull and yellow sky; it's golden orb masked by dust and dirt. The haze blended at the horizon with the soft browns of the clay ground. Air rose above the warm tarmac, its path wavering into the distance until it shimmered out of view. Water was scarce and had become a valuable commodity, the only thing that mattered it seemed. You were targeted if you were lucky to have some, but were damned if you didn’t. People made it their priority to look for it, and when found, it was hidden or quickly utilised before the next person came. It had turned friend against friend, family against family and even a man’s mind against himself. Daniel continued along the road as he pondered this, only too aware that his rucksack was almost depleted of supplies. He was not even sure where he was heading, not sure what to hope for, but continued onwards, nevertheless, westwards under the Sun.
Perhaps like a moth to a flame
, he imagined. He took a sip of water from his flask.
That’s the good stuff
, he thought,
but I will need some more soon; very soon
! Up ahead in the distance was a large shed by the side of the road, what became clearer as an abandoned gas station as he walked nearer. He felt anxious has he got closer,
Every person must be assumed to be hostile until the situation proved otherwise
, he brooded. He carefully scoured the outside, before slowly opening the door, careful not to startle anyone. There appeared to be no one at home.
Good
, he thought,
a chance to rest, to shelter from the blistering heat, and maybe continue after Sunset, when conditions would be cooler.
” He looked around. It appeared that the place had been ransacked a long time ago, and in the meantime a good coating of dust had settled on the shelves. A spider’s web hung between the cash till and an empty picture frame. It was heavy with dirt, a dead spider at the centre, mummified from the dry air, looking foreboding. A small yet potent reminder of the present reality and what becomes of the defeated. Daniel stared at it for a few moments, taking in its message.
“Who needs to be reminded,” he spoke aloud in a calm and steady voice as if scolding the spider. He continued to look around, but there was nothing, so he sat down, put his back up against the wall and rested for the evening.
It was dark when he awoke. There was an eerie silence that was suffocating. He felt that he had fallen into a lifeless pit of darkness. His body was wet with sweat. He took a small sip of water from his flask, gathered his rucksack, and walked outside. The air was warm and the night sky was a deep, dark blue, like a perpetual twilight, with only the brightest of stars shining through. He could see the supernova, about the size of the Sun, a pulsating circle of colours around a pinpoint of blazing, red light. In truth, it was many times more powerful than the Sun but weak by distance. Its power was enough to brighten the night sky but not quite sufficient to illuminate the earth. The Sun was still emperor of the heavens, and the supernova an inferior adversary. It sat in the constellation of Orion, the remnants of a red giant. The explosion was devastating for everything in its path, but all that was left now was its slow dying breath; an exhalation for a thousand generations. He continued up the road, the supernova constantly in the corner of his vision. There should be a town up ahead he thought, and he hoped there would be food and water there. He decided to climb a small hill to survey carefully for any inhabitants, if there were any left. From the edge of the hill, the town could be seen through the surreal twilight. The dim structures of buildings could be seen scattered across a small distance. There were no signs of life. Everyone was asleep maybe or more likely dead. The shockwaves from the supernova’s explosion had claimed many lives, but more died in the struggle that followed. The electromagnetic pulse from the supernova had wiped out communications and electricity. People were sent back to a pre-industrial time and had been taken unaware. They certainly were not prepared for it. The collective shock for some was fatal in itself. The town, however, looked mostly intact. The blast had come from over the horizon, so possibly it had been sheltered by the surrounding hills. He descended the hill and walked towards the town. It appeared desolate. He walked across to a convenience store. It had been looted, windows were smashed, and there were dark scars of soot from fires long bunted out. It looked like if the town had any survivors, they had left. He walked into the store through a broken door left hanging on one hinge. The inside was a mess. Shelves had been overturned, and boxes of this and that covered the floor. Not everything had been taken, whoever left, left in a hurry.
Why
? was a question for later, he thought. It was like an abandoned backyard oasis; coke cans, tins of peas, beans and salmon littered the floor. He opened up a bottle of water and drank properly for the first time in days. It felt good against his parched throat.
Not perfect
, he pondered as he looked at the scratched surface of the bottle; w
arm, but divine, nevertheless
. He ate straight from the cans like a pauper, using his fingers to scoop out every last morsel. He thought to stay a few days to look around.
He came across an abandoned SUV, left at the side of the road. There were many littered vehicles, but he thought this particularly useful. It was a black Ford F-150. It was covered in dirt that had blown into the town from the surrounding wastelands, but nevertheless, looked pretty new. There was plenty of space in it’s rear to carry supplies. He had decided to leave as soon as possible; towns like this often attract the wrong kind of company. He had loaded up the back of the SUV with as many supplies as possible, covering them with an old tarpaulin to block out the Sun and cosmic rays and to keep any prying eyes, human or animal, off his stash. He cleaned the dust off the windscreen and started the engine. The V8 was alive, and its distinctive hum was a welcome sound to break the monotony of the eerie silence of a once bustling town. The Ford resonated gently in beat with the engine’s song as he drove off down the road, leaving the town as a shrinking image in the rear view mirror until it was little more than a blurry mirage. He turned on the radio and scanned the stations. There was nothing but varying degrees of hiss. He got distracted as something caught the corner of his eye, possibly something in the sky. He looked up but could not see anything.
Maybe something passed overhead?
he thought. He stopped the Ford abruptly, the car continuing to hum and resonate as he jumped out. He walked across the road and looked directly above, shielding his face and eyes from the Sun. Even with Sunglasses, the light was bright. There was nothing to be seen; but wait, further ahead down by the ridge he saw them. A group of birds circling in the sky, maybe as many as five or six, meandering slowly above a valley a few miles down the road.
Ravens perhaps that were waiting for someone to die,
Daniel thought,
or maybe, buzzards that were stalking prey
. He jumped back into the SUV and drove cautiously further down the road to get a closer look. The birds were a few hundred feet up in the sky. Their golden wings were flecked with brown, suggesting to Daniel that they were a group of buzzards looking for prey, their meandering above a certain point indicating that they had found something.
But what
? he wondered. He could also hear ravens cawing as they perched on an outcrop of rocks. Daniel noticed a break in the shimmering haze ahead. There appeared to be a figure standing by the side of the road. As he drove closer, he slowed to a stop. A man was pushing a trolley containing bags, clothes and the odd box. He was unkempt with dark, unwashed skin, covered with liver spots. A long, grey beard that was twisted and coiled hung from his jaw, partially covering parched, blistered lips. His head was covered by an old brown leather cap, and a long grey coat hung from his emaciated body that seemed out of place on this hot day. Surprisingly, he wore no Sunglasses, even though he was walking in the direction of the Sun. The man hobbled along as if he had trouble walking, using the trolley as a kind of crutch. Daniel guessed that he was much younger than he looked. As the stranger walked past the SUV, he pretended not to notice Daniel. He continued without glancing over as if hoping there would be no exchange.
Daniel opened the SUV door, stepped out into the road and said, “Hey.” The stranger carried on, his legs staggering, the trolley shaking with its wheels screeching as if they hadn’t been oiled in a while. “Hey there,” Daniele repeated and walked over to the stranger. The stranger stopped. He looked nervous. His eyes were glazed over with cataracts, his pupils looking dark and distant within.
“Hello there,” the stranger finally said. “What a beautiful day we have for us today,” he continued with an uneasy smile, revealing pitted yellow teeth. Daniel could smell the heavy stench of urine and sweat.
“Where you heading?” Daniele asked matter-of-factly. “There’s nothing in that direction for miles.”
“I’ll take my chances. There’s nothing but trouble back there,” the stranger replied with a grave tone. “Bandits, everywhere, taking everything.” No sooner had he said that he heard the roar of engines coming up the road. There were several cars and trucks. Daniele ran back to the SUV, jumped in and started up the engine, and before the door was closed, hit the accelerator. The roar coming towards him became thunderous. He turned the SUV around and screeched off as fast as it would take him, leaving the stranger by the side of the road in a cloud of dust. The SUV purred as it gained speed, the wind rustling past its open windows. The automobiles could be seen in the rear view mirror, still far behind. However, when Daniele looked again, from the smouldering mirage of vehicles two motorcycles crystallised into view, breaking free from the main group. They had obviously seen him as the motorcycles were gaining ground very quickly. Soon they were right behind him, a couple of choppers, their V8s sounding like machine guns. One came up the side of the SUV, it’s rider looking across to Daniele. He could see his black SUV reflecting in the rider’s ray-bans. The motorbikes engine shifted down a gear as it slowed to the speed of the SUV, its clatter becoming a constant drone accompanied by an irregular tick. There was a splinter of glass as the one behind fired, the bullet going through the back then front windscreens. Daniele ducked, keeping his head as low as possible, peering over the dashboard as the SUV wandered at speed across the road as he reacted to the shock, its suspension taking the force, countering each turn. He was peering through the steering wheel to see the road ahead. He took a quick glance upwards to the rear-view mirror. The rider behind had a long-barrelled gun held out proudly in his one hand, the other hand steadying the bike. He fired once more, bullets ricocheting off the roof. Again, the SUV swerved across the road as Daniele reacted with fear. He pressed down on the accelerator hard, feeling its thrust as his hands tightened on the steering wheel. He knew he could not outrun a pair of motorcycles, but maybe the speed would make it more difficult for them. He saw the rider on his side make a move from the corner of his eye. He quickly looked across, trying not to take his eyes off the road ahead. The rider had some sort of metallic crossbow aimed right at him. He swerved the SUV at the rider before he could fire, forcing the bike to swerve and accelerate in front of him.
Keep him in front. He can’t do anything from there,
Daniele thought. He heard the bike behind accelerate; it’s engine crackling into overdrive. He could see it move up his right-hand side in the side mirror, the barrelled gun moving across, aiming at the SUV. The biker in front slowed, his head looking back towards him as he tried to move down his left-hand side, the rider’s denim jacket flapping in the wind. Daniele hit the brakes hard, the antilock system juddering in response. The motorbike to the right whizzed past ahead, his shot way off the mark. Both motorcycles were now in front of him. Daniele stopped the SUV as quick as he could. The bikers slowed and turned. Daniele hit the accelerator hard again; the SUV surged forward. He could see both riders hurtling towards him, a crossbow and gun now aimed right at him. The arrow left the bow silently as if in slow motion. He could see it flying towards him; he swerved, but it still hit the windscreen to his right, shattering the screen, embedding itself in the passenger seat. It was about three feet long. He heard a shot, a thunderous explosion as the bullet left its barrel straight into the front light, its glass spraying up his side of the car. He grabbed the arrow with his left hand, its metal hot from the Sun. At first, it didn’t budge. He mustered up all his strength, the steering wheel now free from both hands, yanking it out from the chair, and in one swift movement threw it out the window at the rider that came down his right side. It was a perfect hit in the face, both rider and bike somersaulting through the air, both eventually rolling across the ground before coming to a sorry stop. The other biker that came down the left side turned, stopped, and looked down at his fellow rider. Daniele sped on, glancing at the scene in his rear view mirror until it got lost in the shimmering heat, a mirage reflecting nothing but the road. Daniele’s heart was racing. He could hear the blood thumping through his head, the sweat running down his forehead feeling warm. His mouth was parched dry. He drove the SUV off the road and across into the desert plains, the vehicle thumping across its dry cracks, Daniele bouncing in the seat until he could see the road in his mirrors no more. He drove in a daze until it was dark, not knowing where he was and stopped. He sat there in the dark silence, listening to his heavy breathing, feeling the sweat run down his head and torso. The air was cold and still, his sweat was starting to chill him. He stepped out of the SUV and onto the desert floor, finding a dead tree trunk to sit on. He looked, surveying the damage to the SUV. It had survived, the damage being superficial, mostly broken glass. The windows and front lights took most of the hits. He needed some weapons, he thought, if he was to stay alive. He bedded down for the night in the back seats of the SUV, sleeping uneasily, wondering where to go next, if there was anywhere to go.