As I slowly emerged from the depths of sleep, my bleary eyes adjusting to the morning light, I surveyed the camp that was already abuzz with activity. The crisp air carried the lively conversation of Glenda and Paul, their words intermingling with the gentle rustling of the wind stirring up small plumes of soft dust.
Paul's voice drifted towards me as he disappeared into Jamie's tent. "I'll just grab my suitcase first," he called out to Glenda.
Still feeling the remnants of sleep clinging to my mind, I approached Glenda with a croaky voice and a groggy demeanour. I longed for the comforting embrace of coffee before attempting to make sense of their conversation.
"Have you seen Uncle Jamie this morning?" I inquired, my voice filled with the remnants of slumber, as I slowly made my way toward Glenda.
"I have," she replied, turning to face me and her gaze meeting mine. "You should go and visit with him."
Nodding in acknowledgement, I continued to rub the back of my neck and stretch my arms above my head, trying to shake off the grogginess that still clung to me.
Paul's voice interrupted our conversation as he emerged from uncle Jamie's tent, suitcase trailing behind him. "Do you have a preference to side?" he called out, his words laced with an air of ambiguity.
My brow furrowed in confusion, struggling to decipher Paul's cryptic question. Preference to side? What the hell is he on about? I thought to myself, my foggy mind failing to comprehend.
Glenda responded matter-of-factly, clarifying the situation. "You and Paul are moving to the third tent," she informed me.
Ah, now it makes a little sense. "They're both the same, really," I called back, stretching my arms above my head once more and giving my sides a much-needed stretch.
"I'm going for a walk to the Drop Zone," Paul declared, reappearing from his brief visit inside the new tent. "Take stock of what Luke's left us."
Glenda's expression twisted into a frown, her concern evident. "I doubt you'll find anything new," she stated. "I haven't seen him yet this morning. But I'm sure there might be useful things we didn't notice before."
As their conversation delved into practical matters, a restlessness began to gnaw at me. The weight of last night's drinking still lingered in my head, and the practicalities failed to engage my interest. Seeking a moment of solitude, I quietly retreated into the tent, my mind yearning for respite.
"Hey, Uncle Jamie," I greeted as I stepped into the tent, my voice laced with a mix of anticipation and caution.
Uncle Jamie's response was sharp and filled with frustration. "Anyone else want to interrupt us this morning!?" he snapped, his eyes rolling with exasperation.
Embarrassment flushed my cheeks, and I stumbled over my words. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt," I stammered, hastily attempting to make my exit.
"Kain, wait," Uncle Jamie called out, his tone softening, urging me to pause.
Reluctantly, I turned back to face him, unsure of what he was about to say.
"It's... It's okay if you stay," he said, his voice gentle and understanding.
Relief washed over me, and I released a breath I hadn't realised I was holding. "I... I just wanted to see how Joel was doing," I stammered my explanation, my body shifting nervously under the weight of the moment. Conflict and tension were familiar territories, but I had always strived to avoid them whenever possible.
In the dim light of the tent, Uncle Jamie's face came into focus, his features etched with a mix of weariness and concern. I took a few cautious steps toward the mattress where Joel lay, his presence a source of both comfort and uncertainty.
“I’m fine,” whispered Joel.
"Oh, you can talk now?" I asked, surprise colouring my words.
"Getting there," Joel croaked, his voice faint and raspy, a hint of pain lingering in his expression.
Uncle Jamie interjected, urging caution. "You'd better give your voice a rest and have more water. Keep your throat hydrated," he advised, gently pressing a cup of water against Joel's cracked lips before assisting him in reclining back onto the mattress.
Just as a sigh of relief threatened to escape my lips, Glenda's abrupt entrance disrupted the moment. "You ready?" she asked, her tone brisk and business-like.
My gaze shifted to the bag she carried, a sharp instrument visibly pressing against its side. A wave of dread washed over me, my mind conjuring images of the worst possible scenarios.
"You don't need me, do you?" I blurted out, my voice tinged with anxiety as I glanced between Glenda and Uncle Jamie, silently pleading with the universe to spare me from whatever torment lay within the bag.
"No, Jamie and I can handle it," Glenda replied, her response devoid of reassurance. "He's getting good practice."
"I'm not your fucking lap-dog," Uncle Jamie snapped, frustration creeping into his voice.
Heat rushed to my cheeks, mingling with the embarrassment and discomfort that swirled within me. I stumbled over my words, desperately seeking an exit. "I'm going to give myself a quick wash," I muttered, hastily retreating from the tent, needing to put as much distance as possible between myself and the uncomfortable scene that was unfolding.
The cool morning air greeted me as I stepped outside, offering a respite from the suffocating tension that had hung in the air.
As I made my way towards the river, the weight of the previous night's events clung to my thoughts, refusing to loosen its grip on my mind. The image of my uncle's bewildering experience replayed in my mind, leaving me hesitant to fully undress and immerse myself in the water. Instead, I settled for removing my shirt, the exposed skin bared to the cool morning air, as I knelt along the riverbank, scrubbing away the dirt and grime.
The water rushed around my fingertips, icy cold and far from the comforting warmth of a hot shower. Despite its chill, the experience left me feeling somewhat refreshed, the water droplets clinging to my blonde hair and trickling down my skin, leaving me with a lingering sense of coolness that seeped into my bones. With a sigh, I trudged back to camp, my damp clothes sticking uncomfortably to my body, yearning for a towel to dry off the remnants of the river's embrace.
As I approached the camp, the sound of Glenda's frustrated curses filled the morning air, the intensity of her expletives revealing her exasperation. I glanced over her shoulder, surveying the scorched bacon sizzling in the pan, its charred appearance signalling its imminent demise.
"Everything alright, Glenda?" I asked, concern lacing my words, my eyes fixed on the bacon that seemed to be teetering on the edge of culinary disaster.
"How the hell am I supposed to control the heat on this thing?" Glenda vented, her annoyance palpable as she tossed the blackened strips of bacon into the glowing coals. "Bacon should be fuck-easy to cook!"
Sympathy washed over me, tugging at the corners of my lips, but I managed to suppress the smile that threatened to escape.
"Would you like me to take over?" I offered, squatting beside Glenda and reaching out to take hold of the frying pan.
"No!" she replied curtly, yanking the pan out of my reach. She took a few deep breaths, her frustration slowly dissipating. "I need to be able to get this right."
"Well, perhaps the easiest way to control the heat is to move to a cooler or hotter part of the fire," I suggested, pointing towards a spot that seemed to offer a lower heat. "It should give you better control."
"Thanks," Glenda responded, adjusting her position around the edge of the fire, following my guidance.
"And normally, it's better to cook on a grill plate to keep the pan level, but unfortunately, we don't have one," I added.
Glenda gazed into the crackling fire, her eyes narrowing in deep concentration. The flickering flames cast a warm glow on her face, illuminating her determination. “Can I rest the pan on the coals?”
“I wouldn’t. Not with bacon and eggs, anyway. They’d end up like charcoal very quickly,” I replied. Especially with you as their supervisor, it seems. "You'll just have to try and keep your arm as steady as you can, and remember to raise or lower the pan from the heat if it gets too hot," I advised, silently hoping that if the bacon remained in Glenda's capable hands at all times, it might have a better chance of survival.
"Of course," Glenda replied, nodding her head in understanding, her determination etched across her features.
"I'll talk to Paul and see if he can convince Luke to bring us some more camping equipment," I said, a glimmer of optimism surprising even myself. I'm supposed to be finding a way out of this place, not settling, I silently reminded myself.
"Thank you," Glenda acknowledged, placing several more rashers of bacon into the sizzling pan.
The immediate sizzle and aroma filled the air, triggering a hungry rumble in my belly. Please don't screw this up, I silently pleaded, my anticipation mingling with the delicious scent wafting through the camp.
Before I headed towards the tent, "Oh, Kain?" Glenda called, her tone firm yet not unkind, catching my attention.
I turned to face her, curious about what request might be forthcoming. "Yeah?" I replied, shifting my focus towards her.
"Paul went to the Drop Zone. Can you please find him and let him know that breakfast is mandatory for everyone this morning?" Glenda requested, emphasising the importance of the meal.
"Sure," I responded, nodding in affirmation before disappearing into the tent
"Glenda's cooking breakfast," I called out as soon as I spotted Paul wandering around the Drop Zone. I had hurried over to find him almost immediately after realising that heading back to my tent for fresh clothes would be a futile endeavour—I had no fresh clothes to begin with!
Paul looked up, surprise etched on his face. "You came all this way just to tell me that?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
I chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. "She insists that we all have a hearty meal. We need to keep our strength up for the busy day ahead of us," I explained, hoping that Glenda's cooking would be palatable at the very least. My stomach grumbled in anticipation.
"Sounds like she's got plans," Paul replied, a hint of laughter in his tone.
"I believe so," I said, standing beside him. "So, what's your assessment?"
Paul seemed momentarily caught off guard by the question. "Well, I'd really like us to get some more concrete poured for the sheds. Nearly everything here has been here for less than twenty-four hours and its already covered in dust," he said, swiping his finger along the top of a large tent box nearby and showing me his freshly dusted fingertip.
I gazed at the fine layer of dust that seemed to coat everything in the Drop Zone, my shoulders slumping. "I don't think it matters what we do," I sighed, realising the futility of the situation. "We're never going to stop that. But the sheds should help."
"Hmm," Paul mused, lost in his own thoughts.
"Any more tents?" I inquired absentmindedly, momentarily forgetting about the nearby box.
"Yeah," Paul replied, his gaze shifting. "Looks like there's one left. We can take the boxes back to camp when we go for breakfast."
"Yeah," I agreed with a chuckle. "I'm sure Glenda will have it up quick."
Paul nodded in agreement. "She definitely knows what she's doing with them. Far more than I do."
"And me," I added, a tinge of self-doubt seeping into my words.
Paul glanced at me, a reassuring look in his eyes. "Don't doubt yourself, Kain. You've got amazing skills."
I nodded shyly, accepting his words before my attention was drawn elsewhere. "Is that a pillow?" I asked suddenly, my head snapping upwards as my eyes caught sight of something wedged between two boxes.
"Where?" Paul squinted, following the direction of my pointing finger.
"Wedged between those two boxes," I answered, manoeuvring around the tent boxes and carefully navigating between the neatly stacked shed boxes. "It is!" I exclaimed with a cheer, pulling the pillow free.
"Just one?" Paul asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"Looks like it," I confirmed, making my way back to Paul.
A frown of frustration creased Paul's forehead. "Like sharing a single pillow will do us much good," he muttered bitterly.
"What are you two creeping around for?" Luke's familiar voice cut through the air as he approached the Drop Zone.
Paul and I spun around, our attention swiftly shifting towards Luke.
"Hey, Luke!" Paul called out sharply in reply. "When did you drop off the sleeping bags?"
"Umm," Luke paused, pondering the question. "Would have been some time late yesterday afternoon or early evening. Why?"
"Didn't you think it might be a good idea to let someone know?" Paul retorted, annoyance lacing his words as he thrust the single pillow at Luke.
"I... uh..." Luke stumbled, momentarily lost for words.
"If Glenda hadn't sent Kain over to collect the box of tent pegs, we wouldn't have had the sleeping bags last night," Paul argued, frustration evident in his voice. He turned to me, silently seeking support.
Raising my hands in a gesture of surrender, I backed away slightly. I knew better than to get caught up unnecessarily in a sibling squabble.
"I have a lot planned to bring through the Portal for you, and I don't have time to take it further than the Drop Zone," Luke defended himself, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "Besides, wasn't the Drop Zone your idea? You're the one who told me to leave stuff there."
"Yeah, but you need to at least tell someone," Paul fired back, his voice tinged with annoyance.
Stepping back even further, I feigned interest in the items surrounding me, trying to distance myself from the escalating argument. However, I couldn't help but overhear their continued exchange.
"I don't have time for that crap, Paul!" Luke snapped, frustration evident in his tone. "You, or someone else, will just have to check frequently."
Paul fell silent for a moment, seemingly taken aback by Luke's response.
"Hey, Kain!" Luke suddenly called out, redirecting his attention towards me.
My back stiffened, a sense of unease washing over me. I really didn't want to get involved. I tried to send Luke a telepathic message pleading to be spared from any further entanglement.
"Do you have the keys to your ute on you?" Luke asked, his voice calm.
Patting my jeans, I reached into the back pocket. "Actually, I do," I replied, raising the keys in the air, a genuine sense of surprise evident in my voice.
"If you give them to me, I'll bring it through," Luke offered, a glimmer of hesitation in his voice.
"Really?" I asked, stepping closer to Luke, my excitement growing.
Luke nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"That's mad!" I exclaimed, dropping the keys into Luke's waiting hand.
Paul's expression suddenly turned sour. "But what happens when it runs out of fuel?" he interjected, his words cutting through the momentary excitement.
Shit! I thought, my heart sinking. I hadn't even considered that possibility.
"I'm working on a solution for that," Luke replied cryptically.
"Like what?" Paul pressed, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
Luke shrugged. "I'm not one hundred percent sure yet. But I'm getting close," he assured us.
"That's very vague of you," Paul commented dryly.
"Have you spoken to my mother?" I interjected, desperation creeping into my voice. The realisation that my mother and Brianne hadn't made any effort to find me or Uncle Jamie weighed heavily on my mind.
"Umm... nope," Luke replied nonchalantly.
"So, she has no idea where I am?" I asked, a twinge of disappointment colouring my words.
Luke shook his head. "Not that I know of."
"Don't you think you should tell her?" Paul chimed in, his voice laced with concern. "You know that his fiancée is pregnant, right?"
"Umm," Luke hesitated, clearly agitated by Paul's accusation. "Have you asked me to tell Claire and the kids where you are?"
Paul fell silent, a sheepish expression crossing his face.
I took that as a no.
"That's what I thought," Luke sneered, his frustration seeping into his words. He took a deep breath, attempting to regain composure. "The less anyone outside Clivilius knows of its existence, the better. It's safer for all of us that way," Luke explained, his voice firm.
Paul nodded in agreement, accepting Luke's reasoning. I, however, hesitated, torn between wanting my mother to show concern for my well-being and the realisation that bringing her to a place like this might not be the wisest decision.
"But I guess I could try and bring your mother through the Portal if you'd like," Luke offered, a hint of hesitation in his voice.
"No," I replied, shaking my head. "I think we could do without her... for now," I added quickly, not wanting to completely shut the door on the possibility. While I yearned for my mother's concern, bringing her into this uncertain world seemed foolish.
"Well, I'd better go get your ute," Luke said, turning to walk away.
"Oh, hey, Luke!" Paul called out, attempting to regain Luke's attention. "Can you bring Jamie's car through too?"
"Umm, nope," Luke teased mischievously.
"Why not?" Paul asked, annoyance evident in his tone.
Luke's expression grew more serious. "I need it to drive to Collinsvale," he explained matter-of-factly.
"Where the hell is Collinsvale?" Paul asked, turning to me with a mixture of confusion and curiosity.
“Not far from his house," I replied, unable to stop myself from adding to the conversation, leaving me wondering whether I was about to get dragged into another disagreement.
Paul turned back to Luke. “Oh, so, you could walk there then,” he told him.
"It's not that close," I chimed in, trying to lighten the mood and defuse the tension that was once again settling between the brothers.
"Gotta go now," Luke declared, his voice carrying a finality that brooked no further arguments. With a smile and a wave, he made his way toward the Portal, disappearing into its swirling colours.
Glenda’s distinct yet unintelligible voice carried across the listless air.
"Breakfast must be ready," Paul remarked, redirecting the conversation away from the disagreement.
"We might as well wait for Luke to bring my ute. Imagine everyone's surprise when we drive it back to camp," I said, hoping to delay our return a little longer.
"Yeah, it will be a surprise," Paul agreed, a sense of excitement returning to his voice. “By the way, have you seen Jamie or Joel yet this morning?”
"Yeah, I went and saw them just after you left," I replied casually, attempting to downplay the encounter. "I'm surprised Luke didn't ask about them."
"I think Luke's a bit distracted right now," Paul said, his gaze following Luke's retreat.
Before I could respond, both of our jaws dropped in unison as my ute came bunny-hopping through the Portal, stalling just inches away from a proper arrival. Laughter erupted from deep within us as we bent over, unable to contain our amusement.
A sulking Luke emerged from the ute, his frustration palpable.
"Luke! Wait!" Paul called out, struggling to stifle his laughter.
Luke paused, his steps halting, but he didn't turn around. "I said no," he replied dismissively, his tone slightly annoyed.
Curiosity stirred within me, but the excitement of seeing the ute overwhelmed my desire to eavesdrop on the brothers' conversation. I made a beeline for the driver's seat, feeling the leather steering wheel beneath my grasp. Closing my eyes for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine the sensation of my foot pressing down on the accelerator, the engine roaring to life. A mischievous smile crept across my face, surprised at my own restraint in not actually turning the key.
Glancing back at Paul and Luke, their voices still locked in conversation, I found myself grateful that their disagreement remained verbal. The clashes between my three sisters often took a more physical turn, leaving me with memories of countless squabbles and bruised egos.
Impatience tugged at my senses as I tapped my foot restlessly on the vehicle's floor. I stole occasional glances at Paul and Luke, silently urging them to bring their conversation to a swift conclusion.
Just as Luke disappeared through the Portal, I honked the horn, a playful signal that Paul's attention was no longer required. There was no reason for him to stand idly now, and I couldn't help but wear a grin.
Paul turned to look at me, his eyes widening with surprise. With a few brisk strides, he joined me in the passenger seat, his expression a mix of excitement and concern.
"Let's go!" I exclaimed, my voice brimming with enthusiasm as I gave Paul a thumbs-up.
"No, wait!" Paul cried out, his voice filled with urgency as the engine roared to life.
I glanced at him, a mix of confusion and impatience clouding my features. "What now?" I asked incredulously.
"We may as well pack those tent boxes in the back," Paul suggested, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
A frown tugged at my brow, a surge of annoyance rising within me.
“It’ll save us coming back for them," Paul prodded.
"Fine," I huffed, my voice laced with irritation. "But make it quick!"
Paul laughed at my reaction, quickly scrambling out of his seat. "You're helping too," he declared playfully.
My eyes rolled, but with a resigned sigh, I opened my door and reluctantly stepped out of the vehicle. The task ahead may have been an inconvenience, but if it meant saving ourselves a return trip, I begrudgingly accepted the challenge.
Carefully, I manoeuvred the packed ute through the Drop Zone, its bulky frame navigating between the towering rock piles that stood like stoic sentinels, marking the entrance to the site. With a confident turn of the wheels, we embarked on the chosen path, veering left towards our destination.
The engine roared with power, the tires churning through the thick layer of dust that blanketed the ground. The impact sent vibrant plumes of red and orange swirling into the air around us. The ute's tires kicked up a swirling storm of dust, creating a hazy cloud that enveloped us, casting a surreal hue of red and orange upon our surroundings.
"What are you doing?" Paul asked, his voice tinged with both excitement and apprehension. He clutched the sides of his seat tightly, his knuckles turning white with tension.
"Just a short detour," I replied, unable to contain my wide grin. The ute took a sharp turn to the left, veering around the roughly-marked perimeter of the Drop Zone, bouncing along the uneven terrain.
Laughter erupted from us as the ute roared through varying depths of dust, surmounting small hills along the way. The landscape unfolded before us, a captivating display of reds, browns, and oranges stretching for kilometres, abruptly ending at the base of majestic mountains that pierced the blue sky.
“How much petrol?” Paul yelled out as the ute neared the top of another hill.
“Still three-quarters,” I replied, grinning widely as the ute peaked once more.
"Floor it!" Paul yelled, his excitement contagious.
I eagerly complied, my foot pressing hard on the accelerator, propelling the ute forward. It tore through the flat terrain, leaving behind a thick cloud of dust in its wake. Our boisterous adventure carried on for a little over a hundred meters before the engine abruptly ceased.
Paul turned to me, his eyes wide with confusion. "What the hell?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.
I attempted to restart the engine, turning the key in the ignition repeatedly, but it stubbornly refused to comply.
With synchronised frustration, we opened our doors and stepped out of the vehicle, gathering at the front. I lifted the bonnet, and a string of expletives slipped past my lips as I stared at the thick layer of dust that coated the engine. "How are we going to clean that?" I exclaimed, exasperated.
Paul leaned in, blowing forcefully into the confined space, releasing a large cloud of fine dust that hung in the air. "Help me blow," he said, looking over his shoulder.
Surprised by the simplicity of his suggestion, I shrugged my shoulders and leaned in beside Paul, exhaling with all my might.
"It's working," Paul exclaimed, stepping back to take a breath of fresh air.
Determined, I rushed back to the driver's seat, turning the key in the ignition. A plume of dust floated out from under the hood, causing me to momentarily doubt its effectiveness.
Paul stepped into view, his face illuminating with excitement. He gave me two enthusiastic thumbs up, signalling that the engine had started and we were good to go. With a satisfying thud, he closed the bonnet and settled back into his seat, a wide grin spreading across his face.
The journey back to camp proved challenging, as we narrowly avoided getting stuck several times in areas where the dust was exceptionally thick. The engine struggled in certain spots, forcing us to stop intermittently and clear away the dust from the air filter and radiator to prevent overheating.
"We need some roads," I sighed, glancing over at Paul as we approached our small settlement. "We need to contain this bloody dust!"
Paul furrowed his brow, deep in thought, seemingly unconvinced by the suggestion.
"Even if we just clear a few trails down to the hard crust beneath, it should be good enough to drive on," I encouraged, eager to find a solution.
Paul's eyes brightened momentarily before dimming again. "There's so much to do," he muttered softly. "Where do we even start?"
"We need a bulldozer," I chuckled, attempting to inject some optimism into the conversation.
Paul looked at me, his expression serious. "That's actually not a bad idea."
"More people?" I squinted ahead as we crested a hill, scanning the landscape.
"Huh?" Paul turned his attention back to the road.
As I slowly brought the ute to a stop in the camp, my gaze fell upon two unfamiliar figures standing near Glenda.
"Shit!" Paul exclaimed, his voice filled with realisation. "I forgot about Karen!"
Who the hell is Karen? I wondered, my curiosity piqued, as I peered through the front windscreen at the tall, lanky woman and her short, frumpy companion standing beside Glenda.
