Sidney's Escape

by Nirina Stone

  Sidney chews on her raisin bar too, her eyes wide as she takes in the dunes and crimson earth of ‘The Barren’. “Sometimes,” she mutters, “under the right light, Nayne’s hair shone the same colors.”

  Henry looks out his side of the car window. It’s all red earth, from various shades of dusty rose to a dark cinnamon. Not a hint of anything else. Even the occasional bush or plant sticking out of the ground is another shade of red. The “Red Planet” their ancestors had called it when they’d first arrived. Not a very creative term, but finally they settled on calling the planet “Allenda” after several months of voting, once the domes were established. Henry remembers the stories his grandparents loved to regale. Their early days were much like Pioneers on earth they’d said, but far more civil given that weapons other than tasers were left behind when they left.

  “It was a peaceful transition,” his grandparents had said. “A simpler time, a building and sharing time. It was wonderful.”

  Up until the flu hit, then everything changed.

  “It’s amazing,” Sidney says. “So beautiful. Can we—can we stop for a moment? Just to look around?”

  Gideon smiles as she turns to look at them both, her eyes wide with wonder, with hope that he’ll say yes. “Oh to be a child again,” he says to Henry as if Henry’s not as enthralled with the planet as she is. “Everything new is always amazing, right? Remember though, Sidney—”

  She peels her eyes away from the dunes again, to look at Gideon.

  “Remember your promise to me.”

  “I remember,” she says quickly, in case he changes his mind.

  Henry smiles just as Gideon turns back around and slows the car down to a stop. He has them place their goggles over their faces, ensuring that they’re covered all the way down to the chin.

  “The air is not breathable,” he explains. “Luckily, the atmosphere is fine for our skin.”

  Then he inputs another code into the car’s console and the glass over their heads retracts into a slot on the side.

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Sidney

  “WE CAN STRETCH OUR legs for an hour or so. Use the utilities if you will.”

  Sidney jumps out of the car before any more needs to be said. Her feet slightly compress the ground underneath. It’s a different type of sand than she’d been around near the lakes in the Blue Dome. She kneels to run it through her fingers, but looks up quickly at Gideon first.

  When he nods, she scoops a handful of the red earth, and sighs as she relishes its warm, fine texture. Unlike the gritty large bits of sand at the lake, which Nayne had told her was made of old bits of glass crushed into fine powder, this red earth feels more like flour. It shimmers in her palm then some shifts into shades of grayish silver, similar to the stuff found in the Blue Dome.

  Nayne had once found a pound of flour in one of the cabins strewn around the Dome. She’d made them bite-sized cakes and biscuits over small fires, and the stuff lasted such a long time. Sidney can hardly remember a time with Nayne when she wasn’t eating another biscuit or blueberry brownie, Nayne’s specialty.

  Gideon kneels beside her to run his hand through the sand. “This stuff has helped us build up almost every structure we live in, you can find it in just about everything we use. The best part is—it’s infinite. It’s the best resource Allendians have, isn’t that great?”

  She nods as she lets more earth run through her fingers. As Gideon stands to have a chat with Henry, movement in the distance catches her eye and she stands to take a look.

  Gideon and Henry turn too, Henry looking like he’s braced to fight. Then Gideon says, “Oh they’re harmless,” and Henry visibly relaxes. What she sees, she can only describe as giants. They’re four-legged beasts, about a hundred or so of them, and the ground below them rumbles as the things run across the plain. “We call them buffalo,” Gideon says. “They’re quite yummy with a creamy mustard radish.” She has no idea what any of that means, but asks, “Why are they all red? Like the same color as the planet?”

  Gideon’s eyes shoot to the sky then back to her again. “All the better to hide from you, dear,” he laughs.

  She’s heard something similar in a story Nayne told her as a child, but can’t remember which one.

  As Gideon turns to Henry again, a flash on her right catches her eye and she moves in closer to take a look. It’s a round stone, just small enough to fit in her palm. She picks it up, looking closer. Right in the middle is a swirl of sorts, it shimmers slightly as if its ridges are filled with rubies. Where has she seen rubies? She can’t remember, but she’s so mesmerized by the thing, she reaches back for her knapsack to put it in.

  “You can’t do that, Sidney,” Gideon warns. “Remember, you can’t bring anything from out here into the Red Dome.”

  “Well can’t I just carry it for now?” she asks, really not wanting to leave the pretty stone behind. “Until we get to the entrance to the dome? I promise I won’t forget.”

  He smiles again. “Fine,” he says. “You can hold on to it for now.”

  They get back into the car and start south again, as Sidney leans back into her chair, tired after all the excitement. She closes her eyes and dreams of red.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Henry

  HE HEARS SIDNEY SNORE softly beside him, and remembers close quarters with the rest of his family, where they’d somehow manage to sleep comfortably though they were twelve kids and two parents smushed into a standard home in the Blue Dome.

  “She’s sleeping soundly,” Gideon confirms. “We can rest here for a few minutes while I check the vehicle. Then we’re on our way again. Do you think she’ll sleep through the rest of our travel?”

  Henry nods, then asks what he can do to help. “I don’t know cars too well,” he says, “but just give me instructions, I’m handy.”

  They both put their goggles back on, open the glass enclosure and head out as they shut Sidney within. It’s not as complicated as Henry thinks, given that Gideon’s built the car from scratch and it’s a solid build. “Decades of hit and miss fixes,” Gideon explains. “No one at my old company would be impressed with it, but it’s been a reliable machine since the start. They certainly don’t build ‘em like this any more.” He chuckles as he walks around the machine once more, then indicates to Henry that all’s well.

  “Heaps of water left in the tank,” he says as he knocks on the large white container on the back-end of the car. This is just the top part, Henry realizes. It reaches all the way down, very close to touching the ground.

  When Gideon freezes on the spot, Henry looks at the vehicle again, wondering what could trigger the utter look of fear on the old man’s face. Nothing’s leaking or out of place, as far as he can see.

  Still, he faces forward to look at whatever has Gideon’s attention and utters a loud gulp.

  In the horizon to their south, what Henry had first assumed was a dune in the far distance seems to grow as it inches closer to them. The thing looked about a kilometer wide from here but as it moves in closer and closer, Henry realizes it’s not a dune at all. Not unless dunes out here move with wind, which has somehow picked up in the last three minutes.

  “There it is,” Gideon mutters, then he ushers Henry back into the safety of their vehicle. “I was warned there’s a storm on the way, but this one’s shifted some,” he says as their seatbelts wrap around their torsos and hold them in place. “Doesn’t look like we have much of a choice now.”

  “What is that thing?” Henry says, just as Gideon slams on the button to start their car and it accelerates. Gideon mutters again, turns the wheels around and they’re heading back in the direction they came, though slightly East. “Storm!” he yells. “Hang on.”

  “Are we going back to the Blue Dome?” Henry yells. He looks back again. The line of maroon is inching on them slowly, but he can guess from Gideon’s reaction that its slow movement is misleading.

  “No,” Gideon says, as he keeps his eyes on the red
earth ahead. “We won’t have time to get there.” Then he leads them even further East and Henry holds on tight, hopeful that ‘East’ doesn’t translate to another day-long trip in a tight tunnel.

  He keeps looking back at the storm, unable to stop the panic building in his chest, but at Gideon’s insistence, he doesn’t wake Sidney up.

  “We’ll be fine,” Gideon repeats over and over again, as if to convince himself more than anyone else. Henry’s certainly not buying it.

  East, he thinks, as they propel across the ground and front of the rest dust catches up to their tail. I hope there’s good shelter.

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Sidney

  SHE WAKES FROM THE deepest, best sleep she’s had in a while. Before she bothers to open her eyes, she stretches her arms up and out, doing the same with her legs—though they can’t stretch as far as she’d like in this—this car! She suddenly remembers as she opens her eyes wide and takes in Henry’s large pupils, his shoulders shuddering slightly as he watches her.

  The car’s going about as fast as it did in the tunnel when they were rushing away from the cats and the thought makes her sit up, immediately looking behind them, expecting to see dozens of cats in chase. What she sees doesn’t make sense. It’s like the back of the car is engulfed in some sort of copper liquid that rises and falls in waves over the back of the glass under which they sit.

  Then there’s the sound—a deafening whooshing sound that she finds both comforting yet terrifying all at once. “What is this thing?” she yells above the fray, seeing that Gideon’s fully concentrated on driving their car while Henry holds on to the seat between them, the knuckles on his hand bone white.

  “It’s a dust storm,” Henry yells back. “We’re trying to outrun it, but—” he doesn’t have to finish the sentence, she can see that the sand is moving over them now, past the front of the car, to the point where she wonders how in the world Gideon can see anything any more. They’re completely covered now though she can feel the car’s wheels still grip and slide over the earth below them. Then they skid sideways and the car turns completely around. Gideon mutters and swears, mutters again, and finally yells out at the same moment Henry does.

  Sidney thinks she screams but the whooshing sound from outside drowns out everything else as she can tell the wheels below them no longer hold on to anything. They’re tipping over! Her arms flail out as she automatically tries to hold on to something. Her left hand manages to find Henry’s right and they hold on to each other, both yelling.

  The car’s completely covered in sand now, and Sidney’s head grows heavy, then light again, then heavy, and she’s nauseated. She pictures the vehicle being tossed around in the storm like a feather. Her head feels weighted again and she finally screams as the car slams to a stop.

  We’re upside down, she thinks as her arms are pulled up and over her head, lying on the car’s glass dome. Her nausea increases as she realizes they’re still moving—swiveling around over and over and over again until the dizziness and nausea overcome her, she has to pull the mask off her face, pulls her chin up at the last minute and throws up on the glass.

  Finally, the car’s movements and swivels slow and it comes to a rest against something solid. The wind outside seems to only increase in volume as more sand and debris slams against them and flows over them—or under them really, she guesses—for what feels like hours.

  The whoosh whoosh whoosh outside doesn’t let up but seems to harmonize with the pulse pounding her ears. She suddenly hears another sound yelling, muted under all the wind. She turns her head to look into Henry’s wide eyes. “You okay, Sidney?” he yells. She realizes he’s been yelling for a while now.

  She’s still dizzy, slightly nauseated, confused, and her seatbelt’s pinching her torso as it holds her in place. Her ankle burns again—but she nods her head yes as her head grows heavier. It’s like all the blood in her body is rushing to her brain. Oh no, she thinks, will my head explode?

  She pulls her chin down to look at Gideon, but his still form tells her nothing. Is he dead? How in the world are we getting out of this? Her hands move to the strap across her torso, meaning to release herself from it, but Henry’s hand stops her. Why? Her eyes question him.

  He’s already releasing himself from his seatbelt though and he twists himself quickly to drop on his feet. She wonders if the jump will crack the glass, then realizes he’s stepping directly in her vomit. Then he places his hands on her as he nods his head, indicating it’s okay now to release the clasp, which she does more than willingly.

  Instead of dropping straight down like he did, she lands in his arms. He winces slightly with her weight as they both crouch uncomfortably. Then he says, “We have to get out of here, but we’ll have to let the storm pass first. It’s safer in here.”

  “Is Gideon dead?” she asks, pointing a finger at the old man. It would be too bad, she thinks. She’s starting to get used to him.

  “I don’t know,” Henry says. He tries to move closer to maybe feel Gideon’s pulse but he can’t shift more than he has. “We need to figure out how to make this thing stand upright again.”

  But how?

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Henry

  HE PUSHES AGAINST THE walls of the car. It’s bottom-heavy, that much he knows. It can be rolled back onto its wheels, but with the storm still going strong out there, the wind is far stronger than any kind of leverage he and Sidney can use in here. With the old man out of commission, they’re as good as that rock Sidney had found.

  “Gideon,” Henry says as loud as he can over the storm’s raging whistles. He calls out the man’s name a few times before he finally sees him stir. Finally! Wake up, wake up wake up.

  Gideon groans and rubs at his head. Waking up with a migraine, Henry thinks. That’s the worst thing. Still, he gives Gideon a moment to orientate himself, then he moves to release the man from his restraints.

  Gideon pushes Henry’s hand away. “No,” he groans. “No.”

  Is he nuts? “Mate, you’re upside down,” Henry explains. “That’s why your head hurts, let me just—”

  Gideon pushes his hand away again. “No,” he says, emphatically. He slaps away Henry’s hand. He must be losing his mind, Henry decides, but fine, if he wants to be stuck in his chair, who’s Henry to tell him otherwise. Then Henry looks down, ignoring Sidney’s sick, and realizes there would not be any space for all three of them to stand here.

  In fact, he wonders if the glass he and Sidney are on would even be able to withstand more weight. The two of them are applying about two hundred pounds on the thing. With Gideon on it, there’s no way this thing wouldn’t crack.

  Gideon starts pressing buttons at the console and Henry realizes he’s trying to operate the car, but would he have thought to make the thing turn itself over? When the car swivels slightly again, turns, and tips over to land on its side, Gideon sighs out loud in relief. Henry adjusts himself as he realizes he’s fallen on top of Sidney who doesn’t make a peep, but he knows he’s hurting her so he places both arms up and on either side of her, stretches his legs out as far as he can and awkwardly does a push-up until she’s free. “Sorry, kid,” he mutters as she pulls herself to the side, rubbing her shoulder where he’d fallen.

  “I’m okay,” she assures him with a tinny voice. His arms start to shake, he knows he can’t hold this position for long. “Gideon, mate,” he says. “Do you think you can make the car do that again? Back on its wheels? Soon?”

  And Gideon tries, he can tell. The car shifts again then a loud motor sound hits his ears. It raises up slightly but lands back on its side again, and Henry realizes they’re not in the right position or maybe the wind’s still too strong. They’re not going anywhere.

  The car spins around again, at the mercy of the wind, then comes to a rest, still on its side.

  Henry shifts himself, and as Sidney moves away to make herself more comfortable in a fetal position behind Gideon’s seat, Henry drops himself
to lie somewhat flat. At least he’s no longer in a stress position, he thinks as he tries to stretch again. This can’t go on for too long though. The smell from Sidney’s sickness earlier is only getting stronger. They’re all disoriented. How much longer will they need to be in this tight space, anyway?

  “How long do these things last usually?” Henry asks Gideon’s back.

  “It can be a few minutes,” he says, “to a few days.”

  Okay. Just the kind of answer Henry needs. Not. He huffs out loud but takes a deep breath. It’s not Gideon’s fault they’re in this situation right? Still he says, “You knew this thing was coming, didn’t you?” He remembers Gideon saying as much one of the last times he’d used his little clickety-clackety machine in the cavern.

  “I did,” Gideon admits. “But it was supposed to pass through before we were leaving. I really didn’t intend to have us out here while it hit but what choice did we have?”

  That’s right—they were supposed to head out, two days after they ran. Still, Henry’s miffed.

  “Well what do we do now, then?” he asks. “I mean what, do we just die in here, in this tiny trap on our sides? What?”

  Sidney looks at him as he starts to hyperventilate. She offers a small smile. “We’ll be fine, Henry,” she says. “We have food, water. We’ll come out of here the second that storm’s done. Right Gideon?”

  The old man simply nods his head, but Sidney’s words are enough to bring Henry back down, mollified. If a ten year old can calm her way through something like this, he thinks, surely I—a grown man—can too. So he takes in another deep breath and tries to concentrate on something else. He closes his eyes as he does so—it seems to help.