The Desolate

My feet carried me back to the homestead as quickly as I could, trying to make it back before the heat of the day set in. We probably had a little time before they came looking again, but I didn’t want to risk being there too much longer. Running along the same path that I’d taken earlier that morning, arriving back at the house by mid-morning. It was already getting warm, and it would soon be oppressive, but there was little choice but to get moving, I just hoped to do it after the worst of the heat had passed. But that meant we needed water and plenty of it in a short amount of time.

I made good time, and was about an hour earlier than intended, finding Ashe on the front porch preparing several condensation traps to distil the unfiltered water. “Hey, how did it go?” She said, unable to hide the relief on her face that I had returned. I forced a reassuring smile and indicated for her to follow me back into the house where I unloaded the supplies I had scavenged and haphazardly thrown into the bag. “Nice find!” she said, sounding impressed before noticing the second rifle. “Where did you get that?”

“Slavers!” I said flatly, “Two dead, two more on our trail, or at least they will be soon enough. If I were to guess, it seems likely they have been in touch with old man Malcolm Bishop to organise a bounty. So, they’ll pick up the chase soon enough. We need to get packed and get moving as soon as possible.” The urgency in my voice wasn’t lost on her as I handed her the boots I’d found and some thick pants she could wear under the filthy dress to offer some protection to her legs.

“What happened out there?” She asked nervously.

I just shook my head and sat down on the lounge chair to strip and clean the new rifle. Ashe stared for a long moment and when it was clear I wasn’t prepared to elaborate, she quickly pulled on the pants and boots I’d brought back for her. After several minutes, I’d regained my composure and said calmly, “I’ll explain as soon as we get out of here, they will certainly come looking for us both. I have no doubt about that. I’m sorry to drag you into this.”

She just nodded once as I continued to work on the rifle, while she turned her attention back to filtering water and preparing something for us to eat. As expected, the weapon was filthy, so I spent nearly an hour cleaning it properly while Ashe reorganised the backpack and got the freshly distilled water bottled and ready to go as quickly as she could. It wasn’t much, but it would get us through the desert if we were careful. We’d be dehydrated, but we’d be alive.

“Do you think they'll come this way?” she asked as she closed the bag and handed it to me. The fear in her eyes likely had more to do with the idea of being left behind, though she was not likely to admit that she would be unable to keep up on foot.

I had not seriously entertained the idea of abandoning her, though I had no doubt the thought was plaguing her mind, especially after offering to end it quickly the day before. I still meant it, I would shoot her first, rather than leave her for those animals. But I had to make it clear that in the end that would be her decision to make. After a moment of thought, I replied to her question calmly and honestly, “I doubt it, but I don’t want to be here too long to find out. One of those guys said something about heading back to New Alice, so we might have a bit of time before they pick up the trail. But they’ll be in vehicles so they will catch up easily if we’re not careful. Still, we should be okay for a few hours. We’re going to need as much water as we can carry, so we’ll wait until later in the afternoon before we hit the road. In the meantime, get some more water purified and ready to go. If your feet are still sore, we will do what we did yesterday. Don’t try to push yourself too hard to walk just yet, you’ll only do more harm than good.” I said nothing about Bishop’s son and his comments about ‘renting’ her, but it certainly explained a lot. I couldn’t help but wonder just how many times it had happened to her, but that thought alone just made my chest burn with rage. I shook my head at the thought and tried to focus on my work, but it was useless. I supposed she was afraid that I would do the same, and that my kindness was some sort of trick, and I grimaced at the thought once more, which only seemed to anger me further, dragging up those darkest memories that I’d buried deep, long ago of what had happened to my mother. I hadn’t thought about it in a very long time, but as I watched her work, I couldn’t help but see it replay again and again in my mind. Eventually, I managed to find my way back into the moment, remembering what I was meant to be doing.

Shaking my head, I pushed aside those dark memories once more and decided I would try my best to reassure her, to keep her safe, it was the only thing that seemed to calm my mood. I would never let that happen to this girl again, one way or another. That thought went against all practical reason, but the rage in my chest demanded nothing less.

She shuffled her feet in the new boots, walking a few metres, testing them out around the lounge area. But the look on her face indicated that that pain was only barely tolerable. She tried desperately to play it down, almost making it look manageable. Though she winced as she pulled the boots off again, and blood seeped through the bandages. That ended any thought of her walking, at least for the first couple of days in the deep desert. “I’ll be okay!” she said, trying to make sure I didn’t leave her behind.

I just shook my head and said, “Just rest your feet, I’ll get everything ready here, and we will have another look later this afternoon.” I reassembled the rifle after I had finally managed to get it clean, and reloaded it before handing it to Ashe, who was seated on the lounge beside me. “It’s yours! You’re under no obligation to come with me, and as soon as we find a suitable arrangement for you. I suggest you take it. I don’t live an easy life, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll live for. But I will do what I can to help you.”

She was quiet as she listened, staring at the rifle for a long moment. She was still hesitant to trust me, and I understood why. But after a moment of thought, she took in a deep breath and accepted the weapon. “Thanks,” she replied shyly, before smiling a little and handing me back the pistol.

I nodded to her and stood up, making my way back into one of the bedrooms and began searching the cupboards and drawers, finding several more pairs of old socks to offer a little more protection for her feet. I didn’t know if they would fit, but several more layers for the girl’s feet might at least help if she had to walk for any length of time. I came back out moments later and handed her the socks before going to check the condensation traps.

They seemed to be working well, and I got the sense that she’d done this before. The setup was simple enough, unfiltered water was poured into a large pot with a smaller pot sitting in the middle, and she had found some old plastic wrap to seal the top with a small stone in the centre to guide the condensation drips into a smaller pot in the middle. It was a simple idea, but effective, so I took the rest of the empty bottles down to the nearby creek, gathering more water and adding it to the outside pot as Ashe had done previously.

I had to admit to being slightly impressed by her ingenuity. Ashe certainly seemed to have some survival skills, which gave me hope that she might well prove herself useful and reliable on the road, at least for a while. I would offer the option for her to leave once we hit the outer settlements and explain the life I lived once we got there. She could make up her own mind at that point, at least it would give her a chance at a life of her own. For now, we had slavers following us, and that had to be the focus. I couldn’t bring myself to leave her to those animals, and the thought of shooting her was not much better. Besides, my mother would never have forgiven me for that. And with my own death planned for the not-so-distant future, I didn’t want that weighing on me when the time came. I had enough memories full of regret. But this was a chance to get one back.

The rest of the day, Ashe and I spent topping up water from the condensation trap and preparing for the long journey ahead. It would be several days before we reached Lake Eyre and had another source of water, so I made a point of filtering as much as possible. I resigned myself to the fact that I would be carrying her most of the way and made sure my bag was emptied of any unnecessary weight before leaving. Ashe was doing everything she could to make herself useful, and the effort was something I greatly appreciated. I had come across traders before with slaves that did as little as possible, waiting to be fed and looked after by their ‘Master’ before providing them with the service they had been bought for. Whatever spirit and fire they once had, had long been destroyed. But Ashe still had the strength and she still had the fight in her, that much was clear.

It was a dark thought that crossed my mind, I was not sure which frustrated me more, the slave owners that partook in these activities, or the slave that was so unwilling to protect themselves that they would rather be raped every night than try to make it on their own? The thought was difficult to comprehend, but not entirely surprising. Still, the memory of my mother fighting for her life right to the end may have been an idolised image from my childhood, but it was a mindset I respect far more than the common attitude of the new world. The resignation to whatever fate this world had given them. But my anger was short-lived, and quickly subsided when I found Ashe preparing a meal for us out of the tins of food. She gave me a small grateful smile as I walked inside, showing her appreciation and growing trust. Something I made a point of never breaking if I could help it. I would not be the one to break this girl’s spirit, not after everything she had already been through.

She was not like those slaves I had met before at all, and I suspected an attempted rapist would quickly find a knife in their back if she had the chance, and that filled me with a sense of pride. She reminded me of my mother in that respect, and she seemed to have a strong mind perfectly capable of figuring things out for herself, and that is all I wanted and needed from her. I had no room for slaves in my life in any sense of the word, but if she were to become a useful friend or maybe a partner—that was something I might at least be willing to try. As distant as the latter seemed to be, especially because it would mean a need to rethink my final plans, and I just wasn’t there yet.

We packed away any signs of life in the homestead to make sure a half-competent tracker wouldn’t know we were here, before packing away the plastic wrap to take with us. I performed one final check of the house, and in the late afternoon without any words or conversation, we hit the road once again. Three thick layers of socks made walking almost bearable for Ashe, though it was obviously still uncomfortable, and I much preferred that she did not make the injury any worse. So, I pulled her up into a piggyback as we had done the previous day and proceeded on foot into the deep desert headed southeast towards the Sand Sea. The next human settlement was Lake Eyre, and they weren’t overly friendly to slavers, so that gave me some hope.

Several hours passed as the cool night air settled in making the walk much more pleasant. I could smell her scent once more as her head rested on my shoulder, causing me no end of distraction as I walked. She had clearly washed up once more while we were at the house, but her natural scent seemed to draw my focus and attention even more strongly than it had the day before. My mind wandered as I marched along the rocky desert where plant and animal life grew extremely scarce. It wasn’t long after that before rocks gave way to sand and dunes as the night air grew very cold.

Sometime in the night as I kept walking, she whispered, “Thank you, Jack.” As her arms squeezed gently around my neck. The first embrace of any sort I had received in many years, and it did little to contain my distraction. Still, the feeling was soothing, and I instinctively reached up, placing my hand on her in acknowledgement, gently patting her arm.

“Don’t mention it,” I said, trying to reassure her, as I continued forward trying to focus on keeping up a good pace. The quiet of the desert was eerie but peaceful, especially at night, and I needed to occupy my mind to help keep focused on the task at hand. So, I did something I almost never did, I initiated a conversation, asking, “Tell me more about yourself. Do you have any family?”

As she rested her head on my shoulder, I felt her smile, before explaining, “My family was based a few days walk west of New Alice. We were a small settlement of about fifteen or twenty people working on establishing an agricultural settlement to trade food. The place was built on a large underground aquifer, and it had started raining quite a lot in recent years, so we settled there when I was very young. Four main families work together to build a life, at least at first. More people came over time, as we grew food and sold it to the traders in New Alice and other settlements, and things seemed to be doing fine until about six years ago.” She hesitated for a long moment, and I felt a few tears landed on my shoulder. “Anyway, word somehow got out that we were successfully growing food regularly, so we soon had some tough guys move in and take over the land. Anyone not deemed to be useful to the operation was sold into slavery. At least at first, until Isaiah Bishop took over the place. He at least established some sense of law and order, so it was better, but it still wasn’t great.”

“I assume you mean Corinth?” I asked, and she gave me a small nod, “Yeah, I remember it. As bad as it sounds, they were lucky Isaiah got the job. It could have been much worse.”

“What makes you say that?” she asked, suddenly curious.

I sighed, before speaking, remembering my time working for New Alice, “I did a lot of work with Isaiah many years ago.” I explained, “He’s brutal when he needs to be, but he’s also fair, and not without compassion.” I reached up again and touched her arm, squeezing gently, “Was your whole family sold into slavery?”

“No,” she said calmly. “My father agreed to it, he was quite willing to work with them and got paid well for me because apparently ‘redheads fetch a good price’. What they didn’t tell him was that redheads only fetch a good price if they are quiet and submissive and haven’t...” Her voice trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought that had crossed her mind.

“It’s okay!” I said, “I understand.”

She hesitated for a long moment before nodding her thanks and continuing, “My father pretty much became one of the tough guys amongst the local farmers, and my mother went along with it because it kept the rest of my brothers and sisters alive. I know it was probably out of necessity, and if they could have, they wouldn’t have done it, but it still makes me angry. I swore I would never be the kind of slave they wanted me to be, just out of spite to my father.”

“I’m sorry!” I said sympathetically as I walked.

“It’s okay,” she said, letting out a sniffle before redirecting the conversation, “How about you? Any family?”

“No, no family. My mother died when I was young, and my father before that, at least I think so. They were good people from what I remember, but it was the early days of all this mess. They did the best they could under the circumstances, but they died when I was young.”

She squeezed my neck again gently. “Do you have any friends or people you run with?”

I laughed. “No, not really, certainly not anymore. I have a few acquaintances and contacts that are good for trade. But trust isn’t exactly my strong point. Besides, I like being alone most of the time. People are hard to trust, they cheat, betray, and get you killed.”

She said nothing for a long time, then added: “I’m sorry that you got stuck with me, if you want, I can leave once we get to the next settlement?”

I let out a long sigh; I still didn’t know what I wanted out of this, if anything, human contact was turning out to be a guilty pleasure of sorts, but did my life really allow for another to join it? Did it? I wasn’t sure, and in the end, I decided honesty was the best approach. “I don’t really know what I want out of this,” I said calmly my footsteps carrying us forward across the sand, I continued, “And I don't exactly live a settled lifestyle so asking you to come along for the ride may be something you simply don’t want, and I wouldn’t blame you for that.”

I sensed a warm, genuine smile as she kissed my neck appreciatively. Her tears still seemed to be flowing, as her arms held me tightly, her face pressed into my neck. “You are a good man, Jack, a rare find in this world.”

Those were words I had never heard before, ‘a good man’—I had to admit it was nice to hear it, even if I couldn’t believe it myself. I had killed far too many people in my life and done far too many things that I regret to deserve those words. My mother had many times called me a ‘good boy’, but the meaning of the word ‘good’ seemed strange, and in many ways, so impractical to survival. We continued in silence for a long time, and it was only after a few more hours had passed that I realised she had dozed off with her arms wrapped tightly around me, her head buried in the side of my neck. It was a warm feeling to have her with me, and the thought of leaving her behind somewhere was beginning to feel like a less attractive prospect the more time passed. That some other slaver might find her and take her back to that life filled me with a tremendous sense of anger, breaking my usual stoic demeanour. Still, caring was dangerous in this world, and I had seen many times how it could break a man.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning she stirred again and let out a yawn. “Are you going to stop and make camp for the night?”

“No,” I said calmly, explaining, “As you correctly pointed out when we left New Alice, while we are in the deep desert we will walk only at night and we rest during the day. If we can’t find shade, then we bury ourselves in a layer of sand to insulate us from the heat. It might get a little cold at night, but it means we’re not wasting water and risking heatstroke.”

“But how do you know where we are going if you can’t see?”

I gestured up to the stars of the Southern Cross, and said, “See those stars there?”

“Yeah?”

“Now see those two stars there!” My finger moved to the two stars just below it, “Those two are called Alpha Centauri and Beta Centauri. They’re known as the pointers.” She listened intently as I continued, “Next, hold your hand up to the star furthest from the cross making an ‘L’ with your finger and thumb and then do the same down the centre of the cross. Where your fingers meet is exactly south!”

“Really?” She said as she climbed down and limped beside me, trying it as if etching what she had learnt to memory.

I pulled out a bottle of water from the bag and sipped it before handing it to her, explaining, “From there, you can easily work out all other directions. Even if you’re slightly off you can always check again and adjust your direction as you go. That rule never changes no matter where you are, you’ll just need to adjust the angle.”

She then pointed to a small cloud just below the cross, and asked, “What’s that?”

I smiled, wondering how I would explain the notion of other stars and galaxies to this girl. I tried to keep it simple since I doubted that she had much access to education or books of any sort on astronomy, so I tried to keep it simple, “That is another galaxy entirely called Andromeda.” She looked at me confused, just as I’d suspected she might, so I tried to clarify it further, “A galaxy is an enormous collection of objects like the sun.”

“Oh.” She still looked confused, her eyes looking all around the sky at the hundreds of visible stars. “What about the stars?”

I smiled, continued as I pulled her up onto my back once more as we continued walking once again, “Each one of those is an object like the sun. But they are much closer than the ones in that cloud.”

“Really?” She looked at me sceptically. “How far away are they?”

“They are so much further than you or I can possibly imagine.”

The confusion remained as we walked on, “And how far away is…what did you call it? Andromeda?”

“Andromeda is much, much, much further than any star in the sky.” Her curiosity and wonder were actually very cute, and it fascinated me. She had a hunger to learn and know more, despite the life she had lived. Another trait of hers that had quickly grown on me.

The next few days of walking were largely uneventful if excruciatingly hot during the day, any sense of being tracked seemed to have dissipated. The conversation was light during the oppressive heat of the day, as we both conserved our energy as much as possible and tried to sleep, though it was hard to come by. The first day we stopped once the sun got to a certain point, covered each other in sand, and then put a spare shirt over our faces to shield us from the heat. It was difficult, but it meant we were somewhat rested to walk at night. And when the temperature began to cool in the late afternoon, we continued our slow march. Ashe’s refreshing attitude and sense of humour were quite invigorating, and her company had over time gone from a mere fascination to me to something I was beginning to relish. And a routine began to form as the days started blending together.

By the time we reached the far edge of the Sand Sea, the northern section of the lake was coming into view on the horizon, and the settlement I knew was less than one hundred kilometres beyond its shores to the east. Ashe and I had grown a lot closer in that time, and I had grown to enjoy her company a lot more than I was prepared to admit, even to myself. Her reservations seemed to have passed as her trust grew, and she seemed to have grown more confident talking openly around me as she came to realise that I would neither harm nor leave her behind for expressing an unfavourable opinion, although disagreements were few and far between.

“It is not at all a rare sight to find Lake Eyre full these days. This place was once almost completely dry in the time of the old world,” I explained to Ashe as her eyes looked in wonder at the large body of water that stretched far beyond the horizon to the south, I continued, “But now it’s rare to see it less than a hundred kilometres from east to west. And often it’s much bigger than that.” The settlement, however, was still another day or two on foot, and dawn was getting closer, so we opted to make camp and finish the trek the following afternoon and evening. The sun was beginning to peek over the horizon, and the air temperature was already heating up. Along with an unfamiliar sense of humidity coming from the Lake. “The sand on the shores should work just as well as the desert for rest!” I explained.

We set up camp by a series of rock formations jutting up through the sand not more than twenty meters from the shore of the lake, where we built a firepit to heat up a meal and got comfortable, making camp for the day. The rocks concealed us somewhat from the surrounding area and offered protection from the hot desert winds that swept across the mostly flat plains. It was still very warm there, but it was much less so than the scorching heat of the Sand Sea.

And the lake itself offered an awe-inspiring view as its waters continued far before what the eye could see. It seemed to be teaming with life as sea birds made their way inland from the southern coast, still hundreds of kilometres to the south. Thousands of seabirds now made this place their home, and the numbers had only increased over the years, meaning that fishing in the area had become a realistic possibility for the lakeside settlement on the eastern shore.

Once we were settled, I explained, “The water is far too salty for humans to drink, but sea life seems to be thriving in there!”

“Really?” I suppose it would seem strange, given that she had likely only ever seen freshwater fish in small creek beds. To her, Lake Eyre was impossibly large, as she gazed across the water at the small waves crashing against the shore with amazement. “I almost thought this was the ocean when we first saw it,” she explained.

“It is certainly starting to resemble an inland sea more and more each year. But no, it’s not; it’s just a very large lake.” She looked at me and I realised she was a little unsure of my meaning, “It’s like a really big creek on top of a salt plain!” I did not add to my explanation that the land was getting greener, less arid, and more hospitable to life, which also made it more palatable to zombies. They were still very rare this far from the coast, of course, but from time to time, they would wash upriver after storms and cause the locals problems, so it was something to be aware of.

“I’ll take the first watch,” Ashe said warmly, breaking me away from my thoughts. “You should get some rest, you look exhausted.”

I nodded appreciatively, covering myself in the sand until my body was properly insulated from the approaching heat of the day. “Just keep an eye on the shore. It’s rare, but zombies do occasionally wash up around here.”

“Really?” Ashe asked raising an eyebrow.

I nodded, “Really! If you see anything, just wake me!”

“Okay!” She said with a smile and sat down beside me, “Sleep well, Jack.”