Heave.
Thud.
Heave.
Thud.
Breathe.
Xander wiped the sweat from his brow and peered around. The day was hot, too hot to be reasonable. The grass was brown, the trees pale green and beige, even the sky was washed out. Dust hung in the air. Xander sighed. What they needed was a good rain.
He put his hand back on his bucket of water. The river had dried up to a trickle and home was so far away. He could have used some horses but animals had fled the area in search of some green land far away.
Farther than he could with his own two feet.
He grunted as he picked up the bucket again. If he didn't get this back, his measly crop would die. The apple trees would perish. He couldn't stop now. He must move. Xander heaved the heavy bucket, carried it as far as he could, then thudded it down again. It might have been better to carry less water, sure, but then he'd have more treks to make. He did it once. And once was enough - he'd been more exhausted by the end of the day from the endless multiple trips. With the bucket as full as this, he only needed about two. Sometimes three if he was unlucky and spilled the precious drops.
His hut loomed on the plain at last. Almost there. The two apple trees looked so limp, as if they'd crumble away into dust. Xander heaved the bucket the final stretch to the garden.
Shwish. He poured the water into his ancient looking water can, then onto the small garden. Shwish. The water ran in rivulets then soaked into the thirsty ground. Potatoes done. Corn done. The handful of beans done. The one tomato plant was nearly gone. He hoped that he could at least get one ripe tomato, not to eat, but to save the seeds and try again next season.
Then the rest of the water to the apple trees. The fruit he could dry out and save for a long time.
His task done, Xander straightened up, his back sore. As long as the river didn't dry up completely, he should be alright. He could hold out.
His mind refused to go to the thought he had, but then he faced it square on. He'd be alright physically, more or less. But then what?
Xander was alone with no way of knowing any other people around. The two graves behind the house held his two sisters. Poor souls. His sweet sisters that he was supposed to protect?
He was a strong young man. He had protected them against the wolves that sometimes poked around, searching for prey. He had protected them against the howling winds and winter storms. He had protected them against a stranger that dared try to kill them all and take their land.
He hadn't been able to protect them from disease.
First had come the scorching fever. Then the sandpaper throat. The pure weakness. They had barely been able to rise from their beds to eat or drink. Whoever was strongest carried it to the others.
Jada and Lyra died. He lived.
If only he had been near a town, perhaps he might have been able to get medicine or help. Xander shook his head. It was not the time for regrets. This is where his parents had raised them. This was where they'd died ages ago, when the three siblings were still children. What had happened to them, he still didn't know. Probably the Garquons.
His mind drifted back to the present. If only he could move on from this meagre existence. Shading his eyes, Xander looked up at the sky. No sign of any rain clouds, or any clouds at all. At least it had been months since the last Garquon ship had flown over. Xander hadn't seen one of the aliens in person, but he had certainly heard from his parents how they had taken over Earth and made a lot of it a dustbowl with their strange magic and the fights that had occurred with the humans. Many of the humans now lived under the Garquons, serving them.
Only a few had made it out of the cities and lived where they could. His parents had been lucky enough to be able to farm it out here. They had tried the river but the Garquons were too plentiful there. So the farm was set back here, where it was safer.
Xander sighed and rubbed his face. It had not been his parents? intention that he be chained to the farm like many of his counterparts were chained to their masters. Lately, he'd been feeling that he should find a way to be able to roam and return to his safe place. Perhaps with a lady, so he wasn't alone the rest of his days.
The problem, as always, was water.
Eyeing the baked ground, Xander considered, not for the first time, digging a well. The problem was everywhere was so dusty for so long, any water - if it was there - would be so deep in the ground.
He'd tried it before. His father had certainly tried. Perhaps this time he'd strike it lucky.
The rest of that day was spent making shovels and structures for digging. Perhaps a bit closer to the apple trees than the last attempt, surely the trees must be getting even a trickle of water.
When the sun rose the next morning, Xander got to work. He picked his spot and started digging. The ground got cooler the further down he dug. He made sure he could still climb out; he definitely didn't want to get stuck in a hole.
Ka-chink.
Toss.
Ka-chink.
Toss.
Further and further into the dirt he dug, shovelling out every bit he could.
Ka-chink.
Toss.
Ka-CLUNK.
Xander stopped, puzzled. His shovel had hit something hard. Stooping down, he used his hands to spread the dirt about. His fingers found an unforgiving surface. A rock? No, a box. Xander cleared the dirt away and pulled up a small square box, the thing smoother than glass. He scrambled up to his house to inspect his find better. Small. Black. A tiny hasp on one side.
It wasn't too difficult to break it and open the box. Cautiously he peered inside.
Nothing.
Empty? Xander stared down into the space. Just in case, he reached a finger inside to feel the bottom. To his surprise, it felt like sand. Dust. Something he couldn?t see with his own eyes. His hand found what felt like a small rock. He gripped it and held it in the light. It shimmered, nearly invisible. It must be Garquon magic; he?d heard of them using strange things. He turned it over in his hand, trying to work out what it did.
Stepping outside, Xander held the rock. He could see it a little better out here, but he still didn't know what it was for.
He felt weird. Strange. The rock thrummed. Startled, Xander tried to drop it to the ground, but it seemed glued to his hand. And then it was gone. He'd absorbed it somehow. Flapping his hand, Xander tried to get rid of it. Who knew what dangerous thing it did?
The more he flapped, the more the wind blew around him. He stopped and took stock of his surroundings. The apple trees didn't move, but his hair whipped in the breeze. He looked down at his hands and the skin cracked, becoming like sand. It didn't hurt. He was blowing away on the wind. His entire body dematerialized into dust.
Xander didn't have time to yelp before he was gone. His mind stayed conscious and he felt himself blowing across the field, ditch, abandoned road, all the way to the river. Panic ensued. He didn't want to fall into the river and be drowned. Could he drown?
Right at the bank of the river, his body reformed from the dust to a man's body. Xander patted himself down. He was here again. Whole.
This was strong powerful magic? or a fluke? His mother had told once of a Garquon vanishing before her eyes. Was it this?
The next question was: could he control it?
He closed his eyes, his mind picturing his humble home. He wished he could go back. Once again, the strange sensations overcame, he crumbled and blew on the wind back home to rematerialize there.
What magic! Xander's heart leaped in joy. He could travel as the Garquons did. Immediately all sorts of plans came to him. He'd be able to go where he willed. To the cities, even. Free his fellows. Bring back a wife to his hut.
Most definitely he could bring water to his far lickety split now.
Power surged through Xander. Where there was one, there were usually another. And another. If he could find this magic, others could too. Or different magic. They could perhaps finally fight against the Garquons at last. Freedom?s song rang in Xander's head. He could do this. He was only one man but there would be more.
They would be free.
Like dust in the wind.
Topic: First Draft: Dust in the Wind (Read 2400 times)