backwards through the vegetation,
sweeping the fine sand over her footprints as she went. It was a
botch job and if these trackers were worth their salt, they’d find
her in a jiffy, but what else could she do? Branches snagged on her
clothes and scratched her arms. She stopped to peek. The knot of
men broke up and one pointed at the water’s edge, the spot where
she had stopped and noticed her double shadow. Two of the men
followed her tracks up the beach. They disappeared into the
bushes.
Faster she
walked backwards, and faster still. Step, sweep, step, sweep,
step.
A
whistle echoed. They would have found her backpack. Shit.
Jessica turned
and ran as fast as she could. The men shouted; branches
cracked.
She jumped
over and between bushes. Something funny was going on with her
right shoe. Parts of it flapped loose and her sock was filling up
with sand.
If she could
reach the river beyond the sand spit, swim across, she might escape
if the men couldn’t swim, or at least not as well as she could.
The shrubs
ended abruptly.
Jessica
launched herself into the open, weaving between tussocks of plants.
Here she could gain speed and take advantage of her longer legs,
get away from them as fast as possible. She ran up a low sand dune,
around the corner of the cliff into an invisible curtain of
. . . something.
Her hands
tingled; the skin on her face pricked. The feeling exploded over
her chest, down her stomach, her legs, like pins and needles in her
entire body.
She had to
stop running because her legs threatened to buckle under her.
From where she
stood, a meadow sloped down to a lazily churning river. In the
middle of the grassy space stood a circular wall, and on this wall
about a dozen tall metal poles. Each of these poles bore a glass
“eye” at the top that collected beams of light reflecting from
hundreds of silver dishes attached to the cliff face behind. The
eyes then directed the light to the top of a pillar in the centre
of the circle. There, the light simply disappeared. Some sort of
collection plant for solar power.
The collected
energy from the beams made that pillar throb with power. The air
vibrated with it. It crept through her veins. Warmth spread inside
her, familiar, soothing, and calling for more. Every fibre of her
being wanted to go to that pillar and submerge herself in the
energy it radiated. If it was what had brought her here, it could
get her back home.
Rough voices
sounded behind her. The five men clambered up the sand dune,
silhouetted by the light. One of them pointed.
Jessica
ran.
Her thoughts
soared to the stars, to a place where the sky was blue and a single
sun beat down on the tarmac of the airstrip at Barrow Creek and her
father’s police car stood parked on the other side of the gate. He
leaned against a fence post, a crooked smile on his face and a
twinkle in his eye and hugged her, grumbling, “Welcome home,
poss.”
She reached
the circular wall and heaved herself on top into the full blast of
power from the central pillar. Every particle of her body screamed
with life and with the hunger for more power.
Yes, she could
do it; she had to, for the sake of her parents. She would find a
way back home. She would run or hide or fight the natives, go back
to the beach and catch another lizard, kill it before it had a
chance to bite, eat it raw if she couldn’t make a fire, build a
raft and paddle to the city on the island, swim if it sank, and
learn to communicate with those she found there so they could help
her. If it took the rest of her life, she would find a way back
home.
A long, clear
note pinged across the meadow. The beams of light that passed
overhead went from white to red and faded. The “eyes” at the top of
the circle of posts ceased to shine. Vibrations in the air stopped
and there was . . . silence.
Behind her,
the first of the two suns dipped below the horizon.
Someone
whistled at the ridge.
Jessica jumped
off the wall. An all-too-familiar stab of
sweeping the fine sand over her footprints as she went. It was a
botch job and if these trackers were worth their salt, they’d find
her in a jiffy, but what else could she do? Branches snagged on her
clothes and scratched her arms. She stopped to peek. The knot of
men broke up and one pointed at the water’s edge, the spot where
she had stopped and noticed her double shadow. Two of the men
followed her tracks up the beach. They disappeared into the
bushes.
Faster she
walked backwards, and faster still. Step, sweep, step, sweep,
step.
A
whistle echoed. They would have found her backpack. Shit.
Jessica turned
and ran as fast as she could. The men shouted; branches
cracked.
She jumped
over and between bushes. Something funny was going on with her
right shoe. Parts of it flapped loose and her sock was filling up
with sand.
If she could
reach the river beyond the sand spit, swim across, she might escape
if the men couldn’t swim, or at least not as well as she could.
The shrubs
ended abruptly.
Jessica
launched herself into the open, weaving between tussocks of plants.
Here she could gain speed and take advantage of her longer legs,
get away from them as fast as possible. She ran up a low sand dune,
around the corner of the cliff into an invisible curtain of
. . . something.
Her hands
tingled; the skin on her face pricked. The feeling exploded over
her chest, down her stomach, her legs, like pins and needles in her
entire body.
She had to
stop running because her legs threatened to buckle under her.
From where she
stood, a meadow sloped down to a lazily churning river. In the
middle of the grassy space stood a circular wall, and on this wall
about a dozen tall metal poles. Each of these poles bore a glass
“eye” at the top that collected beams of light reflecting from
hundreds of silver dishes attached to the cliff face behind. The
eyes then directed the light to the top of a pillar in the centre
of the circle. There, the light simply disappeared. Some sort of
collection plant for solar power.
The collected
energy from the beams made that pillar throb with power. The air
vibrated with it. It crept through her veins. Warmth spread inside
her, familiar, soothing, and calling for more. Every fibre of her
being wanted to go to that pillar and submerge herself in the
energy it radiated. If it was what had brought her here, it could
get her back home.
Rough voices
sounded behind her. The five men clambered up the sand dune,
silhouetted by the light. One of them pointed.
Jessica
ran.
Her thoughts
soared to the stars, to a place where the sky was blue and a single
sun beat down on the tarmac of the airstrip at Barrow Creek and her
father’s police car stood parked on the other side of the gate. He
leaned against a fence post, a crooked smile on his face and a
twinkle in his eye and hugged her, grumbling, “Welcome home,
poss.”
She reached
the circular wall and heaved herself on top into the full blast of
power from the central pillar. Every particle of her body screamed
with life and with the hunger for more power.
Yes, she could
do it; she had to, for the sake of her parents. She would find a
way back home. She would run or hide or fight the natives, go back
to the beach and catch another lizard, kill it before it had a
chance to bite, eat it raw if she couldn’t make a fire, build a
raft and paddle to the city on the island, swim if it sank, and
learn to communicate with those she found there so they could help
her. If it took the rest of her life, she would find a way back
home.
A long, clear
note pinged across the meadow. The beams of light that passed
overhead went from white to red and faded. The “eyes” at the top of
the circle of posts ceased to shine. Vibrations in the air stopped
and there was . . . silence.
Behind her,
the first of the two suns dipped below the horizon.
Someone
whistled at the ridge.
Jessica jumped
off the wall. An all-too-familiar stab of
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