Stormy Night Part 2
Posted on 11 Sep 2023 @ 5:05am by Brek - Timeless Treasures Art Gallery
Edited on on 06 Feb 2024 @ 10:10pm
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: Ferengi Space (Volchok) - Forest Around Happy Trail Farm
Timeline: Backstory: Summer 2380 - Night Time
1327 words - 2.7 OF Standard Post Measure
How long had they run so far? Brek had no idea. If he considered his feet, he would say one hour, whilst if he consulted his mind, it felt only like ten minutes. For a start, behind them, they could still hear the farm’s greenhouses going up in flames. This, he tried to convince himself, already belonged to the past. The future was in front of them. A seemingly endless sequence of slopes, trees, rocks and boulders, marshes and streams. Those were occasionally lit up by the forces of nature, with a sudden and very much inappropriate flash of lighting, revealing their presence to every eye or shuttle scouting the forest around the farm. They needed to find a place where they could hide. What was the good of running like terrorised insects? Ultimately they would reach the island’s shore, and after that what? Even if they found a small boat, it would be easy to spot them. There was no way out. Their goose was cooked, as Terrans liked to say.
And yet, he kept pushing and dragging Desha, to ensure that she didn’t lag behind. The girl was in tears, and mumbling her own blend of ill-fated outcomes. Her family had been killed. Her father’s fortune had been stolen. She was lost and would not survive a week without latinum.
“Nonsense,” Brek mumbled, as they came across a rough patch, scattered with large rocks. “We are not doing too bad. We could both be dead. The hewmon sent to the farm obviously had no order to kill you. Otherwise you wouldn't have this great opportunity to moan and groan”
“You call this an opportunity?”
“You know what I mean... Let’s move on.” He decided. “We can’t afford to stand still.” They were disturbed by a strange noise, a call, really, in the vicinity. To him, it sounded like a nocturnal predator. A bird if they were lucky, if not... “Hurry up!”
Desha complied with heavy sobs. “Where are we going, anyway? Everything looks the same round here. We may even be running in circles, or back to the farm.”
“I’m not that stupid.” As they progressed between treacherous boulders, doing their best not to slip or twist their ankles, Brek’s thoughts took a dangerous turn. Why was he bothering with this mad run in the middle of the night? He was a mere employee. The hewmon who had been ‘polite’ enough to knock on their door, rather than burn the house down, had nothing to do with him. This whole disaster was likely connected to the Asax family and their greed. Yes that was right. He could just as well retrace his steps and deliver the teenager to the hewmon. Why not?
‘Because you are a witness, you moron’, is what the more sensible part of his mind told him. ‘If you wanted to let that guy keep the girl, you shouldn’t have run away. Not that it would have done you any good. You would probably be dead by now. As the saying goes, the ideal number to keep a secret is one. Not two, and even less three.”
Desha gave him an odd look. “You are very quiet suddenly.”
He didn’t meet her gaze. “I’m only contemplating the whims of fortunes. How they come and go... Your father should have been more cautious,” he grumbled. “What did he tell you about this island? Are there any safe zones we could use?”
“He never said anything, other than that I should trust you.”
“We are well and truly doomed then...Your dad could have built, at the very least, a bunker, with plenty of food inside...” Brek protested softly as he continued to walk swiftly among the large rocks.
Somewhere around them, the ominous call they’d noticed before was heard again, and a new doubt surfaced in Brek’s mind. What if it wasn’t the call of an animal, but an imitation, produced by the hewmon, sure to be hot on their tracks by now? The ugly creature might not be alone...
“What’s wrong?” Desha asked, in a whisper, moments later, alarmed to see that Brek was now immobile and terribly silent. “I don’t see squat. Everything’s as black as the back of a stag-beetle round here.”
“We’ve hit a dead end, Desha. There’s nothing but the sea in front of us.” He looked at her, and felt sorry for the two of them. “We’ve got to find another path...” The water, sluggish, was lapping at their feet.
Desha stood by Brek’s side, mesmerised by this expanse of black water. She was bound to find, just as he did, that it looked like they’d been cast away from Volchok. They were trapped in a world that consisted only of a vast sea, a dark forest, and beyond, the ruin of a farm. If only it was just a bad dream or a faulty holodeck.
“We’ need to...” Brek started again, only to be interrupted by a new voice with an horrific Ferengi accent.
“You need to do nothing at all, little Ferengi.”
Turning round, Brek saw the faint silhouette of the Terran man who earlier this evening, had appeared at the farm. He was close to the shore, on their left, and was walking toward them with complete assurance. There was a weapon in his hand, but for the moment, it wasn’t pointed at them.
“I finally found you,” the man continued. “I’ll give you that, you are fast. But also, very stupid, to think that you could get the better...” There was a pause, where the man cursed at something. “ What the hell... is... that?”
The man’s steps had become laborious. Mud, Brek reflected. There were plenty of natural ‘mud baths’ on Volchok. All that clay and silt, it was good for the skin, but not so much for the soul. Not when you’re trampling in the stuff and can’t seem to get away from it. That’s what was happening to the hewmon, right now, only worse. The more he tried to get away from that pool, the more he went down and before long he had ‘mud’ up to his knees. He panicked and cursed - who wouldn’t? - whilst the two young Ferengi observed the scene, transfixed by the man’s powerless fight.
“It’s got to be quicksand,” Brek whispered to Desha. “We’re lucky we didn’t walk into that thing.”
“You nearly did, though,” Desha remarked.
The man continued to curse, this time in his native language, one that Brek was familiar enough to understand. There were many long and short aggressive words, and even a few pleading ones. “I dare not repeat what he told us to do,” Brek added for Desha. “Even in full panic as he is now, this hewmon’s got a lot of imagination.”
“Aren’t we going to rescue him?” Desha asked when the man had mud up to his shoulders. “We could question him. He’s bound to have all the answers we need.”
“You lousy Ferengi, I’ll show you...” As the man tried to move some more, the sky was lit up by three magnificent yellow lightning strikes.
“Too risky,” Brek said. How would they drag such a big body away from that sinking sand without endangering themselves? “If it’s what you want to do, be my guest. I won’t lift a finger for that hewmon. Not after the financial wreck he’s caused.” For good measure, he folded his arms across his chest. “No way.”
“Brek! You’re forgetting your place!! Desha protested. “I said that we are rescuing that man. Let’s find some long sticks before it’s too late. And you,” she said to the hewmon. “Stop moving. You aren’t helping!”
Tbc
