Sand Red

48

'Why are you laughing?' the child asked.

'Because I like to drive,' I said.

He digested this silently. 'What's your Ma's name?'

'Min,' I said after a pause.

'Mine's called Luca.'

'That's a nice name.'

'What's yours?'

'Kun.'

'Where are we going, Kun?'

'To a spaceship, and then to Cerulone.'

He fell silent.

The desert stretched forever before us, and with wheel in hand and a foot on the gas, I felt like I could go anywhere. The Sun glowed down on us jovially, gloriously, and I could not think this enough: my last days on Earth.

Laszlo fell asleep in the front as the afternoon burned through, and I travelled quickly, heading for the Baxters and then Cerulone.

In the evening, we hit the Pechora. It was only a matter of time now.

Sure enough, in a few hours, there it was, the protracted length of chain wire ringing the entirety of the perimeter. Now how was I to approach them?

I rolled to a stop a few meters from the chain, thinking. Laszlo slept like a baby beside me, curled up, head hanging sideways awkwardly. I straightened his neck so it would not be sore when he awoke.

An idea struck me. I moved the car further away, and woke Laszlo up.

'Come on,' I said. 'We've got to go.'

He stretched, yawning. 'To the ship?' he asked, his voice laden with sleep.

'No, I've got to meet some people, and I can't leave you here by yourself. '

He looked across to the towering grey rock walls within the perimeter. 'That's a big camp.'

I laughed. 'Aye, it is.'

I led us to the riverbed, sliding down at a shallow point, and we made our way deeper into it, Laszlo forever asking questions. 'Why is the sand orange?' 'Is this an Old World road?' 'Why are the walls so high?' 'How are we going to get out?'

'It's alright, there's no danger,' I whispered. 'Just keep quiet, now, so they don't hear us.'

He immediately zipped up. I suppose even children understand the reasoning of survival.

Half a kilometer forward, I found what I was looking for. The hole we had exited the camp through, marvellously camouflauged, hidden behind a jutting red-orange rock, a little chink in the bank, seemingly shallow.

I came up beneath it, and looked up at the towering bank. I hadn't thought this part through. How were we to get up there?

'Do you wanted to climb out now?' Laszlo asked anxiously. I think he had a fear of small spaces.

'Yes,' I said to him. I pointed at the opening. 'We've got to get there.'

'We can get out and climb in from above,' he said hopefully.

'Aye,' I said slowly. That was an idea. 'Come on.'

I led him back to a shallow point, and we climbed out smoothly, if not easily. Silt is infinitely softer than sand. I spotted the chain a few metres from us. 'Quick,' I said to Laszlo. We were still on the outside, but I did not want to be shot.

We jogged lightly to where the red rock loomed out beneath us, and then I sent Laszlo in lightning fast. It was stupidly easy. The rock afforded the perfect place to stand and climb down from, and the entrance was invitingly near to it.

But my luck had run out.

'Oi!' called a rough voice from behind me. I turned to see a Bax guard racing at me from inside the perimeter, holding a long sword. What was it with the Baxters and their swords? I quickly stopped lowering myself onto the rock so as to keep Laszlo's position secret.

'You clear off, now!' the man yelled, stopping a few metres from me. He pointed the sword at me viciously. 'Get back,' he ordered. I backed away, surprised. Didn't the Baters care about meat?

'Get back!' he yelled, as though afraid of me. Why would he be afraid of me?

Then the stench of urine hit me, and I realized what was wrong.