Midnight; the desert stars sparkled overhead like impossibly bright diamonds, and the only sound was the occasional howl of a coyote or a scrunch as a ball of tumbleweed shifted in the breeze.
At least, those should have been the only noises.
The almost silent rumbling vibrations of an engine cut through the deserted atmosphere, and a young woman, called Luna to the few people who knew she existed, was suddenly awake.
Safe for the time being in the confines of the bunker she lived in alone, she listened intently for the reason her sleep was disturbed – knowing that, here, danger lurked everywhere.
What she didn’t know, for all her instinct and training, was the identity of the intruders.
Footsteps from these unknown forms shifted the sand and dust, creating just enough noise to alert Luna that they were approaching nearer.
She rose and collected her gear; belt and raygun for the worst-case scenario first, then her shoes and goggles so that running could be the better option.
Adrenaline pumping now, she moved silently around the three tiny rooms she called home, collecting what few supplies and belongings she owned; even if she didn’t have to run this time, there had been more and more close calls with possibly hostile BLind agents and killjoys, and sooner or later she knew she would have to leave.
The footsteps ceased, and silence once again blanketed the empty landscape.
But Luna knew better than to relax; silence is more deadly than identifiable noises in her experience, and she continued stepping back as quietly as possible towards the secret rear exit.
Finally reaching the hatch, she turned and pushed it open, just enough to see out of – nothing on this side of the outpost.
She crawled through, pushing her bag before her, and paused, immobile, at the top of what looks from the outside to be a bin of some kind.
Once again, nothing moved or made a sound, so she dropped down; quickly ducking behind the side of the disguised hatch as the vehicle that had stopped before drove off, passing perilously close to where Luna crouched, not breathing.
She recognised the bland white panels of the BLind issue car the draculoid was driving, and as soon as the car was far enough out of range, she stood up again, hurrying to reach her quad bike hidden under piles of old junk and netting.
It was quite possible that the BLind agents had left a drac behind to guard the place; for the last few years especially, they had been trying to clear all places where the killjoys they hated could hide.
Luna kept this in mind to fight the doubts about whether going away was the best option now, and started the machine, revving the engine quickly and driving it out of the shelter it had lain hidden in for months.
Just in time, she cleared the boundary of the outpost, skidding the bike to a halt as suddenly the air behind her burst into hot tongues of flame and flying pieces of wood and metal.
Luna ducked, just avoiding a rock that flew inches above her head – a moment of sudden clarity, as she realised what the dracs had been doing, and why they had left so suddenly.
Then there was another, shakier moment as she took a breath to stabilise her nerves, relieved that her instincts had been right in the urge to get out – she was lucky to be alive.
But there was no time to think about that; by the looks of the lightening eastern horizon, Luna estimated she had only an hour or so to find some shelter, or else she would be fodder for the dracs, vultures, killjoys, and whoever else she might come across.
Without hesitation, Luna started her bike again and set off.
Of course, she had no idea what to expect from the next few miles, but Luna was weathered enough by the harshness of the desert world that she didn’t have the time or the patience to spend on worrying about it.
