Adam Baker - Impact

Frost watched the sun sink low and approach the horizon.

She inspected the drip. Two-thirds depleted.

She examined Noble, leant close and checked he was still breathing. She lifted his wrist and took his pulse.

Nothing to do but let him rest.

She untethered Hancock and led him to shade. He fell and lay still.

‘Guess you’re done for the day, give or take.’

She stood over him and sipped from her canteen. They stared each other down. She crouched, held the canteen an inch from his lips and let a few drops fall on his tongue. He greedily licked the water, gaze still locked, beaming pure enmity.

She recapped the canteen.

She sat on the sand and released the ligatures binding her injured leg. She pulled up the pant leg of her flight suit.

‘Swollen. Not as much as before. Guess it was a facture. And it’s starting to heal.’

She talked to Hancock, expecting no reply. She used him for company, same way a person might confide in a cat or dog if they found themselves alone.

She unlaced her boot and pulled it free. She slid the crusted sock from her foot. She felt her toes.

‘Still got circulation.’

Noble opened his eyes.

‘Feeling any better?’ asked Frost. ‘I’d offer you something to eat, but we’re out of food.’

He pointed to the backpack he’d brought with him.

She unzipped and searched the main compartment. A wad of documents. Empty water bottles. A plastic bag full of loose medical supplies.

‘Found some meds, huh?’

‘Morphine,’ he croaked.

‘You want morphine?’

‘No. For you. For your leg.’

‘Thanks, fella,’ said Frost, genuinely touched. She slotted a couple of hypos into her bicep pocket. ‘Thanks. That means a lot.’

Noble cleared his throat, shifted position, tried to straighten his back.

‘Agency compound. Human experiments. That’s why they wanted to drop the bomb. Cover their tracks.’

‘Sure there was nothing at the site we could use?’

‘Everyone dead. Everything burned.’

‘Christ.’

‘Trenchman was out there. Poor bastard drove into the desert trying to save our hides. Got himself stranded.’

They sat and watched the sun sink further towards the horizon.

‘Cool breeze,’ said Frost. ‘Feel that? Bliss.’

Noble looked around, as if fully comprehending his surroundings for the first time. Eyes began to widen in fear.

He slowly rolled and began to crawl on all fours. The IV line pulled taut and plucked the needle from his arm.

‘Hey.’ asked Frost. ‘What’s up?’

He crawled towards the ragged break in the fuselage.

‘Dude. Where are you going, Harris?’

Noble pointed at the sky.

‘Darkness is coming.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Sand. Got to stay away from the sand.’

Frost helped Noble to his feet. He put an arm round her shoulder for support.

They shuffled towards the rip in the fuselage.

‘That’s it,’ said Frost. ‘One foot in front of the other.’

Noble glanced over his shoulder at Hancock. The guy was propped against the fuselage, arms lashed cruciform. Sunburned, clothes white with dust. Eyes closed, head hung limp.

‘What the hell happened while I was gone?’

‘Touch of cabin fever.’

‘You or him?’

Frost lowered Noble to the floor.

‘Need any painkillers?’

He shook his head.

She took a foil strip from the trauma kit.

‘We got codeine. No need to dope up on opiates.’

‘I’m all right.’

‘Take them anyway. Make me feel better.’

He lifted his head and swallowed the pills with a gulp of water from her canteen.

She leant against the nav console. She looked out the rip in the fuselage at the dunes.

‘They came back, while you were gone. Pinback. Guthrie.’

‘For you?’

Frost shook her head.

‘They could take us anytime. Not sure what they want. They come after dark. Ever seen a cat toy with a mouse? Bat it around, throw it in the air? Sounds crazy, but I think the disease is playing with us. Could kill us in the blink of an eye, but that would end the fun.’

‘I saw Early,’ said Noble. ‘At least I think it was him. Dogged my steps the whole way.’

‘Early.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did you actually see him?’

‘Not directly.’

The low sun framed by the ragged tear in the airframe. A strip of twilight projected across deck plate. They contemplated the coming night.

‘They’re under the sand,’ said Noble. ‘They’re beneath us, hiding in the dust.’

Frost nodded.

‘I saw an entire vehicle dragged beneath the sand,’ he said. ‘Starting to think there’s a whole bunch out there.’

‘A vehicle.’

‘Trenchman’s limo. He drove it into the desert hoping to rescue our asses, God bless him. Saw the entire thing dragged beneath the sand. Must have weighed two, three tons. Thrown around like it was nothing at all.’

‘A subterranean army.’

‘Telling you what I saw.’

She took an electronic thermometer from the trauma kit.

‘Open your mouth.’

He sucked the thermometer while she took his pulse.

Normal pulse. Normal temp.

‘Mind if I ask some questions?’

‘Like what?’

‘What’s your full name?’

‘I’m not nuts. I know what I saw.’

‘I got to check for heatstroke. You were out there a long while, head cooking in the sun. It’s a marvel you made it back.’

‘Hundred per cent sane.’

‘Humour me.’

‘Noble. Harris. Lieutenant, United States Air Force.’

‘What’s my name?’

‘LaNitra Frost.’

‘Where are you?’

‘The armpit of the world.’

‘What day is this?’

‘Not a fucking clue.’

‘Me neither,’ smiled Frost. ‘Totally lost track.’

She took the pistol from Noble’s shoulder rig and ejected the mag. She put it in her pocket.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Things got a bit tense while you were away. Me and Hancock, not exactly seeing eye-to-eye. Best keep tabs on the weaponry. Don’t want any future arguments to escalate into a fire fight.’

She patted Noble’s chest pockets and removed a couple of spare clips. She thumbed bullets into her palm.

‘More than a dozen rounds for each prowler. Normal circumstances, that would be plenty. But something tells me those bastards will go down hard.’

‘Really want to take them on?’

‘We’ve got no choice.’

She slotted bullets back into their magazines.

The flight deck.

She leant over the pilot seat, looked through the window and surveyed the dunes. She picked up duct tape and resealed the ejection hatches and windows. Wouldn’t slow an intruder down, but she’d hear them coming. Rip and tear. They couldn’t make it inside the plane without taking a full clip to the head.

She could block the ladderway with a trunk, but it might be better to leave the hatchway open. A good fire position. Pick them off as they climbed the ladder. Hard to imagine any of the prowlers would be dumb enough to make a head-on assault, but maybe she would get lucky.

Ought to decant water from the fuselage reservoir and stow it on the flight deck. Meaning to do it for a day or so. Stalling because she didn’t want to face how little water they had left.

She descended the ladder to the lower cabin.

Frost stood over Noble.

‘Reckon you can walk?’

‘You’re kidding me, right?’

‘If we had to leave tonight, reckon you could cover a little ground?’