Time – Beth Ashley
This is an extract from a larger text rather than a short story (in
case some of you are confused as to why it doesn’t really have an ending)
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The sun comes up over the fields, spreading its slanting
auburn light over the trees and shrubberies of the countryside. I haven’t seen the dawn in the country for
months. I think about all those times I
used to be up early with Mum and Dad working in the bakery, sorting deliveries
and baking, rising with the sun. Lately
I’ve only woken up inside shacks and shelters, trapped in the darkness even
when I open my eyes in the mornings. The
brightness and colour of this new day excites me.
“You’ve
been sitting there on watch all night?”
Georgia
yawns and rubs her eyes. I try not to
look at her curves as she stretches. The
last thing I need is another slap from this girl.
“Most
of the night,” I say, panning my eyes across the distant treeline. “You never
know who’s around in places like this.”
She
sits beside me on the grassy slope, biting her dry lower lip. “But it looks so peaceful.
I can’t imagine facing any violence here.”
“’Course
it does. This is their world. It’s only us
lowers that have to scrape by in the chaos.
Right now we’re in the paradise that they created for themselves. And if
anyone see’s us here… we’re a dead
pair of lowers.”
Georgia
smiles sleepily. “They’ll get what’s coming to them.”
“You
sound pretty confident for someone who was just on an internment train.”
“It’s
like my Auntie used to say: ‘What goes around comes around.’”
“She
sounds like an idealist,” I tell her. “All the adults from the old world are
like that.”
Georgia
stands up and arches her back to rid her spine of the night’s stiffness. We stay like this for a little while, gazing
over the fields. It’s the first chance
we’ve had to catch our breath. I don’t
imagine it to last long.
I point
towards the east, where the sun is rising. “See the trees at the bottom of that
slope? I bet they’re following the
river. The roads will all be guarded,
but if we follow the river then we’ll get to the next town sooner or
later. Then we can see about getting the
track-lock switched off.”
“You
want to go back to more water?” Georgia asks, aghast. “I’m still shivering from
the last river we were in!”
I don’t
blame her. A shudder runs up my spine as
I remember the cold plunge after jumping from the internment train.
“I
saved you then; I’ll save you now,” I promise. “The river is the best bet.”
She
laughs harshly. “You saved me? It was me
that grabbed you and jumped from the train!”
“What? It was my idea to jump in the first place!”
“Stating
the obvious does not mean that it was your idea first, Jack. We knew we had to jump if we were going to
get away, but you were too chicken to make a run for it! If I hadn’t pulled you towards the doors, then
you’d never have jumped off the bridge!”
I can’t
believe what she’s saying! Does this
girl, who barely knows me, really think that she just rescued me?
“Maybe
that’s because I’m not crazy!” I snap. “They’d just switched on a track-lock
between us, remember? If the river had
swept us more than a few dozen feet apart, we’d both be dead right now! If it wasn't for dumb luck—”
“Oh,
you’re calling me dumb, now?” She puts
her hands on her hips. I know that
stance. That’s the same stance my sister
used to make when she was about to do something stupid to prove me wrong.
“Well, I’m not going near that river. We
should stay away from the towns altogether and stick to the countryside, and
maybe we’ll find someone sympathetic to lowers who can help us out…”
I look
up, ready to receive her cocky response, and she’s already walked away from me.
“Are
you crazy?! You’re really starting to wind me up.” I shout, jumping to my feet.
“We need to stay close together! If we
get more than twenty paces apart the tracker chips are going to fry every nerve
in our bodies! Don’t just go wandering
off like an idiot!”
There’s
that look again. Me and my big mouth…
“Just
because they say they activated a track-lock doesn't mean such a thing exists,”
she retorts. “But I guess we’ll find out if you don’t follow me – away from the
river.”
Off she
marches. She’s already eight paces down
the hillside into the meadow. “I'm not moving!” I shout, and she turns around,
a crazy grin on her face.
“Oh
yeah?”
She
takes two steps backwards, away from me.
That’s ten paces.
I sit
down on the grass and cross my legs. Two
can play this game!
“You
want to get burned out, keep on going,” I suggest with a casual wave of my
hand. “You’re a city girl, but I’m from the country. You should listen to me for as long as we’re
out here.”
Georgia
shrugs. “I guess you were right about me.
I am a little crazy. See you
later, Jack.”
She
takes two more steps backwards – that’s twelve! – then turns and keeps
walking. She’s not going to stop…! Thirteen paces, fourteen … This stupid game
has gone on long enough.
With no
choice I jump to my feet and run to catch up with her. I’m not dumb enough to die just because I’m
stubborn – unlike her. “You’re a raving
lunatic, do you know that?”
“Quiet!”
she commands.
A
distant sound echoes over the green hills.
It’s a high, long note – like a kind of trumpet. It toots four or five times, then tumbles to
silence. A flock of birds takes flight
from a wood at the edge of the valley, alarmed by the peculiar noise.
“What
was that….?” Georgia says quietly, all the cockiness drained from her face.
“I
don’t know…” I replied, trying to conceal my nervousness. “Let’s keep moving, okay?”
She
scours the nearby woodland for some sign of which way to go. “There –
look. See that smoke? I bet that’s a cottage or a farm. Let’s go and check it out. If we can’t find help, at least we might be
able to snag something to eat.”
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