Fierce winds blasted Ashley from all directions, throwing what little debris it could pick up from the cracked concrete and dirt. The sand was sharp against her face adding to the persistent struggle of walking in such high winds. Being whisked from side to side, pushed and pulled much like a breeze toys with a plastic bag. The night had exhausted her both mentally and physically; it seemed the day would be no different. She felt weary. Her muscles were slowly succumbing to the force of the wind, her body shutting down from the heat pulsing from above. And a slowly growing urge to itch everywhere, was irritating her greatly.
The sun dwindled low in the sky, its rays lighting up the land in brilliant oranges and reds. She didn’t have long before nightfall. She had to find cover, and fast. And that was easier said than done in the middle of a desert. Far off in the distance, Ashley could see the Outlands. Its marbled mountains could be seen rising up from the horizon. They were surrounded by a mesh of green laden leaves basking in the light of the sunset. The sweet illusive scent of the forest called to her. It was so close, and yet so far away.
“Stupid wind.” Ashley muttered in spite. If it had not been for the ceaseless gale she could have made it in time. Letting out a deep sigh, she looked for other options. Anything was better than bunking down out in the open. She may as well have a huge arrow circling above her head screaming, “Here I am!”
A crackling sound escaped through the wind. Ashley whirled to face it as an empty crisp packet jolted past, the wind altering its course every few moments. More often than not she would glimpse the odd crisp packet fleeting across the ground, seemingly as lost as she was. Ashley rolled her eyes and continued her course. She didn’t want to be a scared little girl any more. She couldn’t afford to be jittery at every little sound. She was on her own now. Mom and Dad wouldn’t be there to save her next time.
The rustling stopped. Ashley turned towards the packet once more. There, as clear as day, was a small concrete wall surrounded by sand and rubbish. Newspaper, plastic bottles and mounds of crisp packets; all trapped there by the circulating wind. There sat the crisp packet, the foil rustling furiously in the wind not being able to break free of the concrete fortress. Ashley hurried towards it, diving into the trash as if it were freshly fallen autumn leaves. She let out a sigh of relief. After hours of wrestling against Mother Nature, she had found the one spot that she couldn’t reach her. She didn’t care if it was amongst rubbish. If this disaster had taught her one thing, it was to enjoy the little things.
She let the moment sink in a while longer before preparing herself for the night ahead. She shrugged off her backpack, sand wafting up in clouds as she placed it in front of her. Ashley looked down at her clothes. They too were barely recognisable, blending together into a bulky mess of filth and frayed fibres. No wonder they were itchy. As she brushed off the dirt she noticed the colours of her clothes were a stark contrast to the dull brown and grey that surrounded her. The coat strangely made perfect camouflage.
“I guess the dirt will have to stay for now.” She groaned. She hated dirt. She loathed the feeling of grease in her russet locks. She would always be the first to use up what little soap or sprays they could find despite her father’s best efforts to keep them hidden.
Ignoring the nagging urge to scratch she sifted through her packs contents and laid them out before her. She had been careless during the day, scoffing the biscuit bars in order to keep her legs working. In a way she was glad since they were more a likened to cardboard than biscuits. Half the bottle of water was left. The oncoming debris had left more than a bad taste in her mouth, her throat reeling with every breath as though it was riddled with cuts and sores.
Her fingers lingered over the brightly coloured gummy bears. A part of her wanted to eat them then. They would make a fitting addition to what could be her last meal. But the other part of her wanted to save them. She kept telling herself that she could have them as soon as she got to the Outlands. A constant reminder that she had to keep going provided she survived the night of course.
“Pfft…Get a grip, Ashley.” She shook her head belittling herself. She would make it through this. Everything she and her parents had been through would mean nothing if she gave up. She had to carry on fighting; for them.
She passed her hands over the two metal tins, picking at their worn labels. She could barely make out the printed images, blotches of metal poking through the bleached out stickers.
“Beans…or dog food.” She held the dog food in disgust. No matter how often her Dad had told her that it wasn’t as bad as it looked, it would never be her go-to choice.
Ashley popped open the top of the beans, careful not to peel away too much metal, making a gap just big enough to allow her small nimble fingers to scoop up the goodness inside. In the fading light they looked a distasteful shade of brown, not that she minded, beans could be considered a gourmet meal these days, cold or not. After polishing off half the can she licked her fingers, savouring every tomato-y mouthful, although, she mentally noted she may want to dust her hands off first next time. Ashley’s hand hovered over one of the few crinkled crisp packets and delicately placed it over her half opened tin, encasing it round until she was confident that any spillages would be covered.
“A use for everything,” She smiled to herself, remembering her Dad’s words. She placed it near her bag admiring her work, “He’d be well impressed with that.”
Her smile faded as the night loomed. The light had retreated, leaving her at the mercy of the dark. Her eyes drifted towards the stars. Tiny and bright all at once, second only to the blinding light of the moon. Ashley hoped she had put enough distance between herself and the Shifties, but no distance would ever be enough in her mind. She willed herself into sleep, her body constantly tense, waiting for the nightmares to take her in the real world or the dream one.
Walls of cracked paint towered over her dauntingly, their empty shadows chasing her through the narrow street. Shattered glass rose from the dirt and glazed over the window frames before her, old signs lifted off the ground and reattached themselves to their matching shop fronts, and burnt-out cars rose out from the dirt, like they had been buried for centuries, to form a perfect line of parked cars.
Ashley walked the streets observing the curiousness of the buildings around her. The sky and earth were painted a gloomy black and white, yet the bricks and concrete dazzled in the light of the peculiar silver sun. It was very odd to see a town this intact. Something didn’t feel right. A niggling feeling told her she should run.
Run before it happens. Turn away and forget you ever saw the place.
But the shelves were stacked…and the need to know what was in those tins was too much. Her feet dragged beneath her, unable to control them, forever moving her towards the doors of the nearest building.
Ashley observed the sign above the dusty windows, an old supermarket chain of some sort, to find that the automatic doors were sliding away to allow her entry. Panic rose inside her. The doors shouldn’t have opened. They couldn’t. Every inch of her was screaming to flee.
Don’t be stupid Ashley! You have to get out of here! You know what happens next.
She slowly floated towards the abnormal set of shelves; the racks seemed infinite, spreading upwards through the ceiling and into the gloom beyond the counter. Her arms reached for the mysterious tins stacked up in flawless lines on each row. The labels called to her; bright and colourful, flashing enticing images of their contents. Awe overwhelmed her, and she grabbed each can in haste. Spaghetti, sausages, spam, beans, all flashed before her eyes but she was still blind to the one undeniable fact.
Get out!
Each can slowly began to rot; the metal crumpled or rusted, leaving nothing but a hollow shell caked in mould and dust.
A can rolled across the floor before coming to a halt at her foot. Ashley stared at the end of the shelf, not knowing what lay beyond it. Frozen in place, still holding the empty cans, her eyes drifted up the aisle, coming to rest on a wall of fresh paint, still glistening wet. It was hard to resist a habit of old. Even though she could clearly see it was fresh, she slid one of her fingers over the paint just to make sure. As expected, it came away wet, a streak of white and red evident on her finger. Red?
Ashley’s heart raced. Her eyes widened as it all connected. A town in the middle of nowhere, perfectly stacked shelves of food, cars parked neatly along the street. Fresh paint… Her hand streaked across the wall, brushing away the thin layer of deceit to reveal a deep splash of crimson.
Too late.
She made for the door as fast as she could, skidding round the corner of the aisle to be met with hundreds of yellow eyes perfectly reflected in the dimmed out windows. She dropped the cans immediately, their hollow clangs echoing the hopelessness inside her. Dread consumed her. The floor seemingly gave way below, pitching her into a world of dark. Ashley dared to turn towards her killers. A show of defiance? Disobedience? Better to face them rather than be a quivering mess. The iridescent glow lit up the store, the eyes of the Shifties floating in the darkness like torches.
Shame they forgot their pitchforks, Ashley thought. A snarling voice floated on the air not attached to anybody or entity nearby, rumbling across the walls towards her, “Run little girl…run.”
She didn’t need to be told twice. Who was she kidding? She was a stupid little girl, not a hero. She ran through the open doors, down the small street and into the desert. Her feet moved in slow motion, her shack appeared to be miles away the gap lengthening before her eyes. Her heart thundered in her ears like drums chasing her along, fuelling her fear, while the chilling alien screeches nipped at her heels.
She crashed into her makeshift home. The walls were plastered with photos. Childhood memories and family pictures swirled about the room clouding the two curious figures at its centre.
This is wrong, very, very wrong.
The pictures flittered around the room, worn and torn, old and mangled but still the faces of her parents and herself remained. And they were all staring at Ashley, judging her.
The figures grew to an unnatural height and loomed over her. They were her parents but they wore faces of pure hatred, disgust and pity. They said nothing. Their eyes consumed by black, empty and inhuman. Their faces twisted in on themselves until they ceased to be faces. Their skin rippled like violent tides of water until four piercing eyes stared back at her through a dark shroud.
“Come back to ussssss…” They shot forward. Deep screams stabbed at her ears and the eerie yellow aura engulfed her whole.
Ashley screamed. Her eyes flew open and all she saw was yellow. High pitched yapping erupted around her. She screamed anew. It was all over. This was it. This was the end. They’d found her.
A sharp pain exploded in her hand. The yellow dissipated as she rushed back to reality. The muzzle of a mutt had clasped onto her hand. She kicked out at it sharply, forcing it to loosen its grip. Ashley pulled away and the beast leapt back into its pack squealing in defeat. There were three of them, all as shaggy and wiry looking as the next, and their eyes glinted in the dark.
She gazed at her hand. Blood trickled sluggishly down her knuckles. Nothing a dinosaur printed plaster won’t fix, she supposed. Ashley turned her hand round. Clenched in her fist were the gummy bears.
“Damn coyotes.” she grumbled. Tucking the packet into her inside pocket she waved away the leering canines fixated on the bag of jellied treats.
“Get lost, you greedy buggers, and let me sleep!” she huffed. She rolled over on her pile of plastic and pulled her coat over her head. It was pointless of course. She knew she wouldn’t be able to get to sleep again. Not for a long time. So she lay there, desperately waiting for light to come.
P) much better here, don’t you think?
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