The Sands of Borrowed Time

by Jeffry Winters

  “Full steam ahead!” Hayley screamed as the ship’s mast strained and groaned, the sails bloating almost to breaking point as the wind continued to howl and swirl. Demelza simply punched her fist in the air as she stood at the helm.

  Kyla looked ahead through the tunnel of swirling sand, the haze making patterns in the air, teasing out images like a dreaming mind. She thought she saw a glimpse of her mum’s face in the patterns before she was forced to close her eyes, the sweeping sand too much to bear. She watched the image in her mind’s eye until it to dissolved into darkness.

  “I still believe you’re out there mum!” she shouted out into the desert. “Turn around and come back!” Tears streamed down her face. “Believe in me, like I believe in you!” she yelled awkwardly, choking as sand filled her lungs.

  The darkness became all-enveloping as the ship struggled on through the storm. The wind was now directly side on, streams of sand lifting off the desert floor and screaming across them in golden swirls.

  Kyla and Demelza could hear the muffled shouts of Hayley, “Can’t see a bastard thing! We have to stop!” She took the tension out of the sails, and they fell downwards, the ship gradually coming to a halt. All three grappled with the flapping loose sails until they moored them back safely against the mast. The sandy blizzard forced them to go inside, each covered in baked dust and sand.

  “Fucking shit weather,” Hayley panted. “What’s it coming to?” Demelza and Kyla were too exhausted to speak, sitting on the floor breathless, looking up at her with dazed faces. Hayley got a jug of water and passed it around, each grateful to quench their thirst. Kyla shook the sand from her matted hair, rubbing her hands afterwards, watching the sand fall to the floor.

  “You hear that?” Hayley suddenly remarked.

  “Hear what?” Demelza asked.

  “I hear the friggin wind howling outside,” Kyla said, almost incoherently between gulps of water.

  “There again,” Hayley said as she walked to the door, peeking outside. “Like the sound of a horn.” Demelza and Kyla followed until all three were looking through the door ajar, staring out at the dark, sandy hurricane. This time, it was unmistakable.

  “What the hell is that?” Kyla said, alarmed.

  “Sounds like a bugle horn you hear before a battle,” Demelza said nervously.

  “Maybe it’s a trick of the wind as it flows across the desert,” Kyla said, blowing the sand from her lips. Again, a trumpet sound blew loudly across the plains; a long monotonous drone.

  “That’s no fucking trick of the wind,” Hayley remarked sternly. Again, a long haunting drone boomed across the prairie.

  “Sounds like a trumpet during a funeral march,” Hayley said.

  “Maybe the angels sounding their horns for the final chapter,” Kyla said, her eyes big and wide. Through the gloomy mist of sand, Kyla thought she could make out faint, shadowy figures walking slowly south. It was difficult to tell through the thick torrent of sand, and she dared not tell the others until she was certain. Were these the Others that Cain and Carla had talked of?

  “Look!” Hayley exclaimed.

  “What?” Demelza asked.

  “Over there,” Hayley pointed towards the group of figures that Kyla thought she saw.

  “Just shadows,” Demelza remarked, “but maybe...”

  “I see something too,” Kyla added. Kyla dared not say who she thought they were. The Others travelled the plains under the cover of sand storms, ominous figures like death, appearing to people for a reason, to seal their fate. To keep them trapped in the desert forever; eternally thirsty and tired of life.

  “I don’t think they’re coming this way,” Hayley said.

  “They must have seen us, as we can see them!” Demelza added alarmed.

  “Never look them in the eyes! Kyla yelled out.

  “Never look them in the eyes?” Hayley asked, intrigued by Kyla’s remark.

  “You know these guys?” Demelza asked.

  “Maybe,” Kyla replied.

  “Maybe?” Hayley asked, her curiosity becoming like an itch that needed scratching.

  “Not sure,” Kyla said, pausing before beginning hesitantly again, “They could be…”

  “Go on,” Hayley interrupted impatiently, “They could be...?”

  “The Others,” Kyla replied, looking startled.

  “The Others?” Demelza asked.

  “Yes!” Kyla replied, looking awkward. Both Hayley and Demelza stared at each other before looking outside again at the shadowy figures as they walked slowly through the driving sands. They had a large animal with them, its thick matted fur flapping in the wind.

  “You must have heard of them?” Kyla continued, the Others, gatekeepers of the south?”

  “What the fuck are you muttering on about Kyla?” Hayley asked confused.

  “You know, the gatekeepers of the south,” Kyla said, her furrows creasing.

  “It is said their horns stir up the wind and the sand to stop people from going south, trapping them in the desert forever.

  “And their eyes? Demelza interrupted.

  “They have beautiful, blue eyes. If you look into them, you are lost forever. They steal your soul, your vitality. It makes them stronger until you perish. It’s like squeezing the juice out of fruit to drink.”

  “What utter tosh!” Demelza exclaimed.

  “That’s what I’ve been told, and they could be them!” Kyla said, looking perplexed.

  “Just boogie men stories to scare the children, Kyla,” Hayley said dismissively as she watched the group of figures and their beast head north through the torrents of sand.

  The horns wailed through the wind as the hooded figures dragged their beast onwards, straddled in chains with a rider atop, a bayonet held vertical under his shoulder. He looked across to the land ship.

  “Shit!” Hayley whispered loudly. “He’s looking across at us.” The figure stared at them awhile, his brilliant blue eyes shining through the darkness, penetrating through the dense swirling sands.

  “Don’t look into his eyes,” Kyla commanded, slamming the door shut, looking at Hayley and Demelza, their eyes wide with fright. Hayley looked at Kyla defiantly and opened the door again to peek out into the hazy air. The rider was looking ahead again, more interested in his journey than the girls and their craft. She watched as the figures disappeared into the sandy gloom until their shadows faded from view and were no more.

  “Never look into their eyes!” Kyla repeated anxiously. “They will change you forever!” she continued.

  “They were so blue,” Hayley said dreamily. “So blue, they dazzled,” she continued.

  “Never look at them again,” Kyla remarked.

  “Their eyes so blue, but their faces so dark, so scared, like they had been burned,” Hayley continued.

  “They must have been the Others, gatekeepers of the south!” Kyla insisted.

  “They could have been anybody,” Demelza said.

  Hayley looked stunned, “But their faces and eyes? she asked.

  “Because of what happened!” Kyla exclaimed. “When the star exploded, they got caught, it burnt their skin and bleached their eyes bright blue! Or at least that's what Cain told everyone.”

  “Whoever, whatever, they are gone now,” Demelza said with a smug smile.

  “I’m sure we will see more of them as we travel northwards,” Kyla said under her breath.

  The girls settled down for the night. The horns could still be heard above the ferocious wind in the distance, like a demented animal in search of a mate. As exhaustion overcame them, they slowly fell asleep, dazzling blue eyes worming deep into their dreams.

  Northbound Adventure

  The girls were still sleeping as the Sun rose above the horizon, Jeff still driving the van as fast as he could northwards along the highway, his eyes sore with tiredness.

  “Girls, girls, wakey, wakey,” he mumbled tiredly, “the Sun is looking particularly beautiful this morning, you can see it on
your right-hand side if you care to bother, shame to miss it.” He turned around to see them fast asleep in their blankets amongst the cans of food, water, and gasoline. He honked the horn until they began to stir.

  “Time for a pit stop girls,” he said over his shoulder.

  The girls groaned as they twisted tiredly in their blankets.

  “So cold,” Callee moaned.

  “Ah, but not for long, remember that big, hot orange thing in the sky, well it’s coming back over the horizon, and it's ready for you and everyone else.” Jeff chuckled as he pulled over to the side of the highway, bringing the van to a slow stop. “Right then girls; shit, piss, breakfast and a nice cup of water in any order or combination you please, before one of you takes over to continue the journey.” Jeff jumped out of the van and took a piss, aiming as far across the desert as he could.

  “Oh please,” Laren complained, I can hear your filthy piss splashing everywhere from in here.”

  “Now that, that is what I call freedom,” Jeff replied, zipping up his jeans, “I’ll think I’ll save the shit for a later date, save them all up for one almighty dump, maybe for a special occasion.”

  “My ears are sealed,” Callee chuckled, covering her ears with her hands as she wriggled out of her blanket, opening the door and jumping out.

  “Wow, it's good to get some fresh air into our lungs,” Callee said with a bright smile.

  “Before we get some hot sand into our lungs,” Laren mumbled loudly as she struggled to get up. Callee puckered her lips, choosing to ignore the comment as Jeff held back his laughter with his hand to his mouth.

  After they ate and drank, Callee took the wheel, taking the van back north along the highway at a leisurely pace.

  “Looks like bandit country,” Laren said, glancing across at the stirring sands.

  “Why?” Callee asked as she listened to the wind sweep across the sands.

  “Cause everywhere is bandit country,” Jeff said amused.

  “And what if we meet some,” Laren asked, looking annoyed.

  “We run like fuck; no looking back, until the soles of our feet are bleeding, our lungs panting and our hearts racing. Well, that’s my plan anyway,” Jeff said, looking back over the front passenger seat to Laren.

  “Oh, cheer up girl,” Jeff said, rubbing her shoulder, “what’s the worst that can happen?”

  “Tripping?” Laren said, beginning to smile.

  “Tripping?” Jeff asked, curling his nose. “Yes, when we're running like fuck!” Jeff gave out a burst of laughter. “If you trip, you die. So don’t trip,” Jeff said, still laughing.

  “For fuck's sake,” Callee said, “let's not dwell on such things.”

  “Ok, ok,” Jeff said, “but it’s a possibility.” Callee huffed, looking across at Jeff with a stern stare.

  They drove on in silence as the wind began to rage, the sand rising up into the air, turning the day into night.

  “Headlights,” Jeff finally said as he strained to see the road ahead. With a click, two beams of light blazed out into the pitch-black fog of swirling sand, the yellow lines in the middle of the road streaming towards them at breakneck speed like an ambush of arrows.

  “Should have brought my umbrella,” Callee mused quietly.

  “You’d ruin it out in that,” Laren said with her chin in her hands, watching the road stream hypnotically towards them.

  “Maybe, but a girl has to keep the sand out of her hair,” Callee replied.

  “You could have hidden behind it when the bandits strike,” Jeff suggested, pretending to be serious.

  “Ha, fucking ha,” Callee replied.

  “You need to work on that laugh Callee, it's starting to sound a little contrived, to say the least,” Jeff said.

  “Ha, fucking ha, ha, ha,” she retorted, looking across to Jeff.

  Jeff pointed to the road, “Eyes on the road my dear, makes it easier to stay on it.”

  “Really,” she replied sharply.

  “Makes it easier to aim for those darn Bandits, flatten them under the wheels,” he continued. “You could finish them off with that umbrella of yours. Don’t forget to use the pointy end, of course,” Jeff stabbing his fist downwards.

  “Damn, I didn’t bring it,” she replied sarcastically. “Did I not mention that I forgot it?”

  “Then we would just have to leave them there to die a slow agonising death,” he said contently, folding his arms.

  “Yuck, like a big squashed slug,” Laren said, putting her mouth to her hand.

  “Food for the birds, food for the birds,” Jeff half sang aloud. “They must be getting hungry by now.”

  “Funny how the food chain works around here these days,” Laren giggled.

  “Don’t encourage him,” Callee cried out.

  “Pass us some water, my dear Laren,” Jeff asked, “my lips are slowly welding together.”

  “Cup or jug?” Laren replied.

  “Now, decisions, decisions,” Jeff replied, tapping his fingers on his chin.

  “What does it matter?” Callee said tiredly.

  “It matters immensely,” Jeff replied, while Callee shook her head.

  “Any fool can make a decision, but it's making the right one that counts,” Jeff replied.

  “Here, it's in a cup, there’s no jug,” Laren said, handing the cup over to Jeff.

  “I’m amongst politicians here,” Jeff said with a big smile. “You gave me a choice, and not a very real or a diverse one may I add, and then you made the decision for me, as the alternative wasn’t there to give in the first place.”

  “What utter shite,” Callee remarked.

  “I believe they call it bait and switch,” Jeff replied smugly, “and I’ve truly been had,” he continued, looking at the cup and smiling, before quenching his parched throat.

  “Where does it all come from,” Callee asked, watching the sand lash against the windscreen.

  “Feels so close and oppressive, like I can’t breathe too well,” Laren added.

  Nobody spoke for a while as the van struggled onwards, its engine struggling against the howling wind as it strengthened further, buffeting the side of the van as it weaved through a layer of dark, brown sand covering the road, flashes of lightning sparking continuously overhead.

  Callee thought about the supernova. She had been so young when it exploded, but the memory was clear. It began with a dim light on the horizon. There was a strange flicker, followed almost immediately by a bright, white flash, spreading so quickly across the sky, outshining everything in its path until nothing could be seen in this brilliant, white darkness.

  “Nothing feels real anymore,” Callee said, “like we’ve all died and this is like a dream. We’re ghosts, drifting in limbo.”

  “Like we’re in hell, but a living hell,” Laren said.

  “Lighten up girls, this is as good as it gets,” Jeff chipped in. “We have a chance to build our own lives, with no interference from anybody.”

  “But from what?” Callee protested, raising a hand from the steering wheel.

  “Well, from nothing,” Jeff replied.

  “From this shit,” Laren said, looking out into the dark day.

  “Exactly!” Jeff exclaimed. “From this shit, we will build ourselves a new life.”

  The girls remained quiet, contemplating what Jeff had just said, what it really meant to trade in their lives for a chance at freedom as they journeyed ever deeper into the darkness.

  Sun Day Jolly

  “Pass me the bastard wrench,” Cain spoke annoyed, holding his arms up in defiance of the blowing sand. “They’ll find me fucking dead here one day, I guarantee it. This shit is everywhere; in my mouth, my eyes, in my fucking arse.” Bayliss passed Cain the wrench saying nothing, sweat streaming down his arms.

  “Bastard sand clogging up the carburettor too. Why it’s fucked,” Cain continued, rubbing his eyes, kicking over his bike. Can’t see a bastard thing. For fuck sake!” throwing the wrench to the floor. �
�Sand, bastard sand, everywhere! She’ll be way over the horizon by now.”

  “Would it not be better to search for her at dawn or dusk, when the wind is not so fierce,” Bayliss boldly suggested, tired of Cain’s charade.

  “Might not be a bad fucking idea,” Cain replied, slapping Bayliss on the head. “Not a bad idea at all,” he continued, defeated by the task at hand. “Can’t see fuck all anyway, with all this bastard sand blowing around.”

  “There would be fresh foot tracks to follow,” Bayliss added. “No wind and dust to cover them.”

  “Tis true. She is long gone, though. There is no way she could have travelled so far by herself on foot. She would have required a vehicle. Some cunt has helped her,” Cain continued, sounding bitter. “Some little, fucking weasel has whisked her away,” looking beaten.

  “We could use an airship?”

  “An airship?”

  “Yes, an airship. Why not, from the air we could see the whole of the plains, even further afield, past the horizon and beyond?”

  “Good idea, why didn’t I think of that?” Bayliss already knew the answer, nervously feeling Cain’s gaze.

  “You know why, ‘cause we don’t fucking have an airship!” Cain continued, staring Bayliss in the eye. There was a long silence until finally Cain spoke again. “However, I like the idea. An airship. Where the fuck can we get an airship from?” Any ideas professor?”

  “We just nick one,” Bayliss said with a nervous smile, unsure whether Cain was approving or mocking his suggestion. Cain walked slowly forward, with subtle nods of the head, looking distant and dreamy.

  “You know Bayliss, an airship would be a great addition, with significant benefits to our group, yet I have only ever seen one.”

  “And we burnt it, blazed it out of the sky.” Bayliss interrupted.

  “Yes, we did. Out of necessity. Self-defence.”

  “The pilots died in the crash.”