The Nick Of Time (and other abrasions)
A Heart Full Of Dust
by
Al Bruno III
(Sixteen)
A short while after speaking to Rhea, Vagabond had gone down below to join Lily. She had told him as gently as possible that while she wasn't asleep, she also wasn't in the mood for his company. So, he had gone back to the bow only to find that Rhea had wandered off as well. For a moment he considered going to find her to have a few more questions answered but then he decided he would rather have some time to himself.
Leaning against the railing he watched as the trawler ploughed though the darkness.
The engines and rudder must have been behaving better because they were traveling at a considerably higher altitude than before. He stared down at the dunes, the motion of the trawler coupled with the darkness gave them the illusion of motion. It was like they were cutting through the waves of some strange shadowy ocean.
Occasionally they passed over ruined structures jutting out of the dust. Vagabond wondered if there were any people there, huddling fearfully in the decaying remnants of their once-great cities like their ancient ancestors had in caves.
Very probably, he thought.
He rubbed his temples, his mind swimming, maybe he should go down below and try to get some rest.
A flicker of red light caught his attention, casting weird shadows over the wasteland. There was something oddly familiar about it. Vagabond looked to the horizon but as quickly as it had come it was gone.
Kurt stepped out of the bridge, “Did you fuckin' see that?”
“Yes,” Vagabond said, “About twenty degrees to starboard.”
“Fifteen degrees.” Kurt said icily.
Vagabond shrugged, “Whatever.”
He returned to the bridge and the trawler angled to the right. Vagabond watched the horizon for over an hour, hoping to spot another glimmer but the night sky only grew darker as stormclouds gathered.
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