by Rohan Healy
Then Landi spoke, “we need water, we can’t stay here.”
“Landi’s right,” said Miles, “After we eat we need to get a move on. Get whatever moisture you can out of the meat and we’ll continue on to The Dustbowl.”
And so the three men ate all they could of the stringy flesh and got ready to set off again. Using the blade feature of his arm Maxen cut off the tail of the giant rat, curled it up and swung it over his shoulder saying, “it’s rope ain’t it? You don’t say no to rope.” They stepped out again into the hot sun, finding shade whenever they could as they snaked their way along the path, still flanked on both sides by the vertical rock formations.
Over the next hour silence once again fell over the troupe, talking required energy and that was something that was in very short supply. Miles thought of Hellen and of Chet, of Tyler and Clarke, of Candice. All the familiar faces of the life that seemed like a distant memory; that felt like an eternity ago, like a different lifetime altogether, a different incarnation. And it might as well have been, as much as Miles clung to the idea that there was a way back, deep down he knew how absurd the very concept was. And now, walking through a red desert 550,000 kilometres from home with a belly full of mutated rat, he felt entirely disorientated, like in a dream, a daze. A combination of dehydration and his incredible circumstances. They trudged on, their legs burning with fatigue as lactic acid built up in their thighs and calves. They were completely parched, their lips cracking and their heads pounding from sun stroke. Miles wondered how long he could keep this up; one hour, two? What he wouldn’t do for a glass of sparkling cool fresh water, he swallowed dryly and licked his flaking lips at the thought.
Then as if the universe had read his mind he saw it. A sign had just appeared around the bend, and next to it another cave. ‘Fresh Water,’ read the metal sign, the words hand painted with red paint. Without saying a word the three men began to sprint wearily to the cave’s entrance and sure enough, when they entered the cave they were greeted by the sound of running water. They made their way down the narrow tunnel lit by torches, following the sound of the water which grew louder with every step.
“Stop!” shouted Maxen who was leading the group as he came to a sudden and abrupt halt, the other two bumping into him.
“Here it is, there’s a hole, I can see the pool down there.” Miles and Landi made their way around Maxen and looked down the hole. There it was, fresh sparkling water illuminated by tiny holes in the caves ceiling. A small waterfall flowed into the large basin and the overflow of the basin created a stream that moved further down, deeper into the cave system. Floating in the basin was a wooden bucket attached to a short length of rope, the other half of which was tied to the top of the hole from where the men were looking down.
“The rope’s broken,” said Miles dejectedly, “how are we going to get the water, the hole is tiny and we don’t have a bucket...”
“I’ll go,” said Landi, cutting Miles off mid-sentence, “I can fit through the hole, you can tie that rat’s tail around my waist and lower me down, I can grab that bucket.”
“Are you sure? What if something goes wrong? What if we drop the tail?” Miles asked.
“It doesn’t matter, if we don’t drink we die, it’s as simple as that!”
“Landi’s right,” said Maxen, “we’re screwed if we don’t drink soon, I don’t see any other way.”
And with that the three men set about putting Landi’s plan into action. Maxen tied the thinner end of the rat’s tail tightly under Landi’s arms, but loose enough so that he could breath. Miles pulled and tugged, testing the integrity of the knots and the strength of the tail.
Then Maxen spoke, “Okay Landi I’m gonna lower you down now, you grab that bucket, fill it with water and Miles and I will pull you back up, you got it?”
“Got it,” said Landi nodding confidently.
“Okay here we go,” said Maxen as he positioned his feet against the cave wall and wrapped the tail around his arm for security. Miles held onto the excess tail just to be safe and fed it to Maxen as he needed it. Landi squeezed through the tight hole and began his descent into the cave. The basin looked much larger from inside the cavern, and deep too, the water was a very dark shade of blue at the centre. Landi looked around in awe - as he was slowly lowered down - at the array of beautiful sparkling crystals, stalagmites and stalactites. The limited light bounced off and through them creating a spectacular light show on the ceiling of the cave.
“Okay you can stop, I can reach the bucket now!” Landi shouted up, his high pitched voice echoing through the vast underground chambers. He reached down and grabbed the bucket, filling it full of water with a smooth scooping motion.
“Pull me up, I’ve got the water.” As Landi began his slow ascent he looked down at the water below and for a moment he thought that he saw something move under the surface, something big. He shook his head, blinked his eyes and looked again, this time seeing nothing. He concluded that it must have merely been an illusion, a symptom of his dehydration. Miles and Maxen lifted Landi through the hole and immediately took turns gulping down large mouthfuls of the delicious fresh water. The bucket was passed back and forth between the three of them with such vigour that most of the water was spilled, but they didn’t care, they were now in a cool, safe cave with an infinite water source and enough food still in their bellies to keep them going for quite a few hours. They laughed and joked, guzzling the last of the water.
“We need more, ready for another trip Landi?” asked Miles. Landi smiled and nodded licking water from his lips, and quickly positioning himself in the hole, ready to head down again. Miles and Maxen resumed their positions and slowly lowered Landi and the bucket back down to the fresh water basin. Landi peered into the deep blue, straining his eyes to see any signs of what he had witnessed before. There it was again! Landi’s heart began to race as he wondered what kind of creature could create such a large shadowy figure.
“Uh guys,” said Landi nervously, “I think there’s something down here”.
“Just get the water and we’ll get you outta there,” replied Maxen, shouting down the hole, “just be careful, we won’t waste any this time and you won’t need to make any more trips.”
“Okay…” he whispered to himself, his voice trembling as he neared the surface of the water. His shaking hands lowered the bucket into the water and slowly he began to scoop up another bucket full. He stared anxiously into the almost black water when suddenly a gigantic black eye appeared from the depths of the basin and stared back at Landi as it moved underneath the water. The eye, which was the size of Landi’s entire head, was followed by a massive set of gills, a large fin and, after what seemed like forever, a gigantic grey tail. The monstrous fish then delved back down into the murky depths of the basin as Landi’s heart pounded like a drum.
“Guys,” he squeaked, speaking as quietly as he could, “could you please bring me up now?” Miles and Maxen began to pull Landi up as he continued to look down at the water below, all the while clutching the precious bucket of water. But then the water in the basin changed, it began to froth and bubble, and waves splashed over the sides of the basin. Something was coming, something big.
“Hurry up guys!” Landi screamed now half way between the hole and the basin. The water below continued to splash wildly until suddenly the figure of the gargantuan shark leapt through the air, its jaws wide open. Landi screamed and watched as the shark’s blood red mouth, and its razor sharp teeth, accelerated toward him. Miles and Maxen frantically attempted to pull the poor man to safety but the massive fish, whose body spanned the entire length between the hole and the basin reached Landi first. The powerful jaws came crashing down like the world’s largest bear trap severing the rat’s tail and swallowing Landi whole, bucket and all. The shark then fell back toward the water with an enormous splash and disappeared below the surface, as the waves and froth slowly subsided.
Miles and Maxen simply sat there shaking, mouths agape,
neither of them could utter a single word as they attempted to come to terms with what had just occurred. Even Maxen, usually so cool and collected, was visibly disturbed. They had just lost a full third of their group and a new friend and, as well as that, they just saw a shark many times larger than anything that existed on Carthage, and they lost their water bucket. Every one of those elements individually would have been terrifying enough, but all three all at once, it was devastating. The two men sat down against the cavern wall.
“What now?” asked Miles in a low voice once he had regained his composure somewhat.
“I just watched a giant shark eat a tiny man hanging from a twenty foot long rat’s tail and you ask me ‘what now?’ How the fuck am I supposed to know? Shit for all we know this whole tunnel could be some big animal’s asshole!” Maxen snapped at Miles, still shaken by what he’d just witnessed.
“Look Maxen we’re out of water, we’re not going to last forever on that rat meat and it’s getting dark. I’ve had more than enough of the hot sun, but I really don’t want to find out what comes out at night in this place. We need to move, we need to get to The Dustbowl before we end up like Landi.”
“Yeah you’re right, poor little guy,” Maxen looked sorrowfully at the ground, apparently he’d grown fond of Landi over the events of the past day.
“He risked his life so that we could drink, and now he’s gone. Let’s not waste what he did for us, we’ve got to get going.” Miles stood up to leave and Maxen followed, looking back toward the hole and taking a moment to say a silent goodbye little Landi.
Back outside the sun was setting in the sky, which itself was turning a deep red to match the ground. Maxen and Miles started to walk again keeping to the shade and enjoying the much lower angle of the sun. The temperature had dropped several degrees since they first entered the water cave which made the trek significantly easier, that and the fact that they’d managed to gulp down a good amount of water before Landi and the bucket were swallowed. Every muscle in Miles’ body ached but he went on. He thought of Chet’s confused face as he watched his father savagely beaten by Enforcers before his eyes and taken away forever. ‘That cannot be the last thing he sees of me. I will not let that happen’. He trudged on determined to make things right with his family, to make it to The Dustbowl, to make it to New Fortune and to make it home to Elissa.
“Hey Miles, something’s up,” said Maxen. Miles stopped and noticed that everything was beginning to go dark, a large dust cloud was covering the sun and appeared to be heading toward the two men from behind.
“I guess they don’t call it The Dustbowl for nothing. We’d better pick up the pace if we wanna outrun that scary son of a bitch,” and so Miles and Maxen broke into a jog. Dust storms on Gyaros were no joke, with tiny particles of dust and rock flying at speeds of two hundred kilometres per hour, it was like being in a blender for anything softer than stone or steel. They ran and ran picking up speed as the storm grew closer. The path between the two stone walls wound and continued as they looked out for a cave or relief where they could last out the storm. Luckily, however, they didn’t have to because it was at that moment that the path opened out suddenly into a city.
“Welcome to The Dustbowl,” stated the ugly sign written in the same style and same red paint as the ‘Fresh Water’ sign they’d come across earlier. The Dustbowl was surrounded by a three meter tall electric fence, and having met the local wildlife Miles could understand why. Underneath the sign there was a large double door made from the roofs of two Talos shuttles. Just about everything, it seemed, was made from shuttles, the houses, the shops, the city walls. Even the public furnishings like street lights and benches for sitting were covered with the Talos logo.
Miles and Maxen, incredibly relieved to have finally made it to The Dustbowl sprinted toward the gate. At the top of the gate sat two men, one was shirtless with pierced nipples and short blond hair, and the other a little stockier and completely bald.
“You boys can just stop right there,” said the shirtless one in a slow and slurred voice. He stood up and displayed his firearm, which looked to Miles like an antique, “I ‘spose ya’ll be wantin to come on in huh.”
“Yes, yes please,” Miles shouted up to the men, “We just landed this morning and we need a place to sleep, and to take shelter from the storm.”
“Hahaha,” the two Dustbowlers laughed heartily displaying their rotting, and in some cases missing, teeth.
“That sounds good for you two but what do we get out of this little deal, huh?” said the shirtless one.
“Yeah what do we get?!” repeated the bald one.
“Well I don’t have anything of value really. I’m an engineer a-and an electrician, I can fix things, I can be useful to you!” Miles appealed desperately.
The two guards conferred privately with each other for a moment before the shirtless man began speaking again.
“Yeah okay, you can come in, ‘sides Kyle here says you got a pretty face.”
The bald man smiled at Miles, who gulped and sent a conciliatory smile back, while at the same time thinking, ‘what the fuck kind of place is this?’
“And what about the big black buck over there, he don’t talk much huh?”
“Yeah and I don’t need to ‘cause I got this,” Maxen transformed his arm into its cannon state and began to charge it.
“Whoa there buddy, no need for that, you two come on in outta that big 'ol storm.”
The large gate began to slide open and Miles and Maxen made their way through. On the right of the gate Miles noticed a digital display that read ‘Population: 1502’. A gunshot could be heard somewhere in the distance, Miles looked back to the display ‘Population: 1501’. He swallowed hard as he and Maxen stepped over the threshold and the gate slid closed behind them.
“Welcome to The Dustbowl boys.”
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Chapter 11
As Miles and Maxen sheepishly took their first steps into The Dustbowl they scanned the environment. Shuttles were stacked on top of each other creating makeshift apartment blocks up to ten shuttles high. The blast shields were removed and curtains were hung behind many of the windows, out of which could be seen the faces of residents peering at and scrutinizing the new arrivals. The red dirt road crunched under their feet as they passed tall green cacti, and their shadows spread far out in front of them as the low evening sun broke through the approaching dust storm from time to time. The residents of The Dustbowl could be seen scurrying around frantically in order to prepare for the storm. The women were taking down the clothes from the lines that hung between the shuttles, and the children hurriedly collected their toys and ran indoors. The men of the town were bursting out of the bar and the general store holding food and drink for their family, shouting frantic instructions to each other. Apparently these storms were no laughing matter. As the last of the residents made it off the street and safely into their homes, the wind began to pick up.
“We need to find somewhere to shelter from the storm,” shouted Miles over the ever loudening gusts, “over there, the bar.” Miles pointed to what appeared to be the town’s public house. The building was made up of a number of Talos shuttles, cut in half and placed sideways to form the walls. There was a balcony on the second floor, and a mature red bearded man stood up there, leaning on the railing looking out into the storm. Miles and Maxen ran toward the bar and looked up. A sign above the door swung wildly in the wind. It said “The Rusty Anchor” in big bold letters above a picture of a ship. Miles thought it strange that it should have such a maritime theme considering it didn’t look like there was a sea for many miles in any direction.
“Please, open the door, we’re going to die out here,” Miles shouted up to the man on the balcony. The bearded man looked down and laughed, he had a hook instead of a left hand and a pipe hung from his lip.
“Aye, me and your friend there have something in common,” he said in a rough voice, lifting his left arm, “come aboard and
make yourselves comfortable, there’s a mean squall a’comin.”
The door to The Rusty Anchor creaked open and the duo stepped inside. The heavy steel door slammed behind them and locked shut. A motley crew of drunks, thugs and other undesirables stared intimidatingly at Miles and Maxen as they entered. In the centre of the room stood a giant rusty anchor, it appeared that the entire building was built around it. There was a bar, eight round tables, each of which sat over a big wooden barrel, a stair case at the back and an old piano in the corner, which was being played energetically by an old man with overalls and a cap. The man from the balcony came walking down the stairs and greeted the two new patrons.
“Ahoy there lads, come, take a seat at the bar.” Miles and Maxen obliged the ragged old sailor, who they now presumed to be the owner of the establishment, and joined him at the bar.
“Two flagons of our finest bumboo and a plate or doughboys for these two picaroons,” the bearded man laughed and the burley barman slid two large pewter flagons of mysterious liquid along the bar, followed by a plate of what looked like deep fried doughy dumplings. Hungry and thirsty from the perilous trek Miles and Maxen helped themselves ravenously to the food and drink. The doughboys were savoury and salty, made up primarily of flour and animal fat, and they certainly did the trick. The drink tasted like sweetened and watered down rum, Miles swallowed it down, but soon realised that he should consume it slowly despite his thirst. He did not want to pass out in a place like this. The bearded man took a seat on a bar stool directly to the left of Miles, Maxen was on his right.