Barrenlands: An Odyssey (Old Work)

Chapter Eight.

1

The howling of the wind had become almost music-like to the ears of the Engineer and Little Girl. They were the sounds and chimes of the Barrenlands; sounds which were almost enchanting yet haunting during the night. Throughout her travels, the Engineer had become quickly accustomed. Around them, the gusts had started to intensify and showed great promise into becoming something much, much more and something that the wanderers would rather avoid – a sandstorm. Despite the impending threat, the Engineer and Little Girl remained poised in their positions, gazing at the foreign object that was fast becoming layered underneath the sand. It was only a matter of minutes before it would disappear completely, and the metal, paint and rivets would be covered.

"What do we do now?" Little Girl called, her voice difficult to hear and drowned out by the winds' drones. Her hair whipped in the wind, and she found herself lifting the hem of her dress to cover the lower half of her face from the braising grains of dust. Her skin had already become red and almost raw. There was no doubt that they were both intrigued by the foreign object, but the sheer size of it was problematic – they couldn't take it with them. And therefore, there was no reason to remain anchored to this position and succumb themselves to the harsh, incoming conditions.

"Carry on ye legs."

2

Two days and two nights had drifted by as the wanderers continued to traverse the expanse. They carried on, with the thoughts of the foreign object quickly falling to the back of their minds and becoming nothing but a mere memory of something that was.

3

The brutal morning had subdued into a pleasant afternoon as the Engineer and Little Girl arrived at the rumbling ruins of an outpost. Crumbled blocks laid at their feet – an old testament to what had been here once a long time ago. And although the cluster was small, smaller than the outpost that Little Girl had made her home, her saving grace – and a gift from the fathers – lay in the middle of the outpost circle. It was tiny, but it was the handle of a water pump nonetheless. The water containers that hung from her shoulders were limp and light. The resource couldn't have come at a better time. Driven by the promise of water, the Engineer took a step forward, her step leaving a small cloud of dust. But she stopped immediately in her place, the hairs on her neck sticking up on end like something cool had brushed up against her. What caused it, she didn't know, but instinctively she reached for her pulse gun, the handle now sitting heavily and comfortably in her hand.

What she hadn't noticed was the lump that lay a way off from the water pump. The Engineer, curious yet cautious, took another step towards it, followed by a hesitant other. And that's when it dawned on her that the lump was no longer a lump; rather, a dead, mutated creature. Its legs were flailed to one side and its tail trailed off in unnatural directions lifelessly. The Engineer raised her eyebrows, surprised at the new find. Not only was it dead, but it must have been slaughtered not a long time previously. Bright, fluorescent blood pooled near its head and had mottled the hair on its body, the tips of each strand covered in the eerie colour. For the Engineer, this could only mean one thing – they were no longer alone in the Barrenlands.

"Wits be about ye," she called to Little Girl. Her words were met with resonating silence, taken as an agreeance from the companion that she had understood the situation which lay in front of them. But had the Engineer taken the time during this cool afternoon to turn around where she had stood, she would have been quick to notice that Little Girl was no longer there, and had vanished.