Sitting beside Luke on the mattress, the air was thick with the residue of tension from his and Jamie's recent altercation. The silence between us felt heavy, charged with unspoken thoughts and regrets. Luke had been rendered speechless, a rare occurrence, visibly shaken by the confrontation and Jamie's subsequent rejection of his attempted help. Watching Jamie walk off to the river to tend to his wound, left a palpable void in the camp.
Now, Duke was making his rounds around the tent for what seemed like the fourth time, his nose diligently mapping out his new environment. Henri, in stark contrast, had claimed a spot on the mattress with an air of finality, curling up comfortably in a corner as if he'd been doing so for years. The thought fleetingly crossed my mind that Duke would probably get along well with Charlie. They seemed like they would be fast friends, if only circumstances were different. But I quickly squashed the thought, echoing Jamie's earlier sentiments. As much as seeing Charlie would brighten my spirit, introducing more pets to Clivilius under these conditions was far from prudent.
I turned my gaze to Luke, taking in his slumped posture and the distant look in his eyes. We've weathered many storms together, yet the sight of him so deeply affected was unsettling. My forehead creased with worry lines, a physical manifestation of my concern. Luke had always been the tough one, the backbone in many ways of our duo. To see him this despondent, so utterly devoid of his usual resilience, was disconcerting.
Yet, there was a part of me that knew Luke's usual nonchalance wouldn't serve us here. If he maintained a too-laid-back attitude towards our dire circumstances, the harsh reality was that our chances of survival would dramatically decrease. His reaction, though painful to witness, was a necessary adjustment to the extreme circumstances of our situation. It was a reminder that our current existence in Clivilius balanced precariously on the edge of survival, where every decision, every action, could mean the difference between life and death.
"He needs a doctor, Luke," I found myself saying with a firmness that betrayed my growing concern for Jamie's well-being. The injury was far more serious than any of us had initially realised, and it was pressing down on me with an undeniable weight.
Luke paused, the silence stretching between us as he processed my words. "I know," he finally admitted, his voice carrying a hint of resignation. "I'll take care of it."
"How?" The question escaped me before I could temper it with tact. "Are you sure bringing another person here is the best idea?" The risks of introducing another individual into our precarious situation were not lost on me, yet the alternative was watching Jamie suffer, an option I found intolerable.
Luke's stare then became challenging, as if he was ready to confront not just the question but the implications behind it. "So, you agree with Jamie, do you? You think being here is a death sentence?" His words, sharp and probing, sought to dissect my loyalties and beliefs about our situation in Clivilius.
"Luke, that's not what I said," I countered defensively, the tension evident in my voice as I struggled to navigate the conversation without exacerbating an already delicate situation. My mind raced, weighing every word before it left my lips.
"But?" Luke pressed, his single word a prompt for me to elaborate, to reveal the depth of my concerns and perhaps, in doing so, betray a rift in our unity.
I hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on me. Is this really a path I want to go down? The thought of adding to Luke's burdens with my doubts was unpalatable, yet the reality of our incompetence in handling even basic tasks was undeniable. I sighed gently, a quiet resignation to the complex web of loyalties and responsibilities that bound us.
I closed my eyes, seeking a moment of clarity amidst the turmoil. "Luke," I began again, my tone softer, more reflective. "Yeah," Luke's response came, an invitation for me to continue.
"We need someone with decent handyman skills. Jamie and I suck. We can't even lay a concrete slab for the shed." My admission was both a concession to our limitations and a reluctant acknowledgment of the necessity for additional help.
"I shouldn't be surprised," Luke's words carried a mix of humour and understanding, a brief moment of levity in an otherwise tense exchange.
My gaze met Luke's, my expression earnest. "But don't tell Jamie I told you that," I implored, the last thing I wanted was for Jamie to feel undermined or for my words to be construed as siding against him. "We're struggling enough as it is. The last thing I need is for him to think that I agree with you, that we should start bringing more people here."
"Of course," Luke agreed, his tone indicating a deep understanding of the delicate balance I was trying to maintain. "I understand."
"Thanks." My gratitude was genuine, a small beacon of hope in the uncertainty that enveloped us.
"Shit," Luke's exclamation, sharp and sudden, cut through the stillness of the moment, propelling him to his feet with an urgency that seemed out of place in our brief respite from Jamie’s painful revelations.
"What?" My question was instinctive, a reflex to his sudden change in demeanour. The eerie vibe of urgency emanating from Luke sent a tingle down my spine, a premonition that something was amiss, even as he tried to downplay it.
"Oh. It's nothing," Luke's response came too quickly, his attempt at nonchalance not quite masking the undercurrent of concern in his voice.
Luke and Jamie and their bloody nothings, I mused silently, a wry smile touching my lips despite the tension. Honestly, they really are as bad as each other. Their propensity for underplaying serious matters was both infuriating and endearing, a trait that seemed to bind them even in the most trying of times.
"I'd better get going then," Luke said, his voice softer now, a hint of reluctance threading through his words as he gave Duke a quick scratch on the head. His gaze then shifted to Henri, who lay lightly snoring, blissfully unaware of the complexities surrounding him. "Now, be good. Both of you," he instructed, the affection in his tone belying the hesitancy of his departure.
I chuckled. Henri didn't seem the least bit concerned by his new environment. If only it really were that simple. Just find a spot to get comfortable in and the rest will be taken care of.
"Take good care of them for me, won't you?" Luke's request pulled me back from my reverie, a solemn reminder of the responsibilities now resting on my shoulders.
I nodded, my agreement silent but firm. I understood the implicit trust Luke was placing in me, an acknowledgment of the challenges he faced that left little room for the care of our four-legged companions. The task of starting a civilisation in this alien world was daunting, consuming all of Luke's time and energy, leaving him torn between his duties and the welfare of Duke and Henri.
Luke's brow furrowed. "I never meant for them to enter like this," he admitted, his voice laden with regret.
"I know," I responded, my words aimed at offering solace. It was important that Luke understood that, despite the upheaval and the heartache of being torn from familiar surroundings, I didn't view him as a villain in our narrative. The complexity of our situation, fraught with danger and uncertainty, didn't allow for simple judgments or blame.
Leaving Henri comfortably asleep on the mattress, a picture of blissful ignorance in this chaotic new world, Duke and I trailed after Luke towards the Portal.
"Luke, wait!" My voice echoed slightly, cutting through the silence as Luke prepared to step through the Portal. He paused, a sign of his willingness to listen despite the clear intention to leave.
"Can you print us instructions for laying a concrete slab for a shed?" I asked, the request born out of our earlier conversation and the realisation of our limitations in handling even the most basic tasks of survival here.
"Sure thing," Luke responded, his grin a brief flash of camaraderie in the midst of our ongoing struggle. With a final wave, he disappeared through the Portal, leaving Duke and me to face the realities of Clivilius once again.
Duke jumped up at my leg, his simple act of affection grounding me in the moment. "Well, Duke," I said, bending down to scoop him up into my arms, "What are we going to do with you?" His response was to lavishly cover my cheek with rough, eager licks, a reminder of the uncomplicated love and loyalty our four-legged friends offered us.
"We'll bring you Charlie," I found myself promising him, my decision solidifying with the words. "You'll like her." The thought of adding another member to our small, burgeoning family here in Clivilius brought a flicker of warmth to my heart, a small moment of hope that our isolation might be temporary.
Turning back towards the Drop Zone, a sigh escaped me. "Shit," I muttered under my breath as the realisation hit—Luke had forgotten to take the empty truck back with him. A minor oversight in the grand scheme of things, yet indicative of the myriad of challenges and distractions that constantly vied for our attention.
Duke's subsequent lick across my cheek pulled me from my thoughts, his simple, joyful demeanour a welcome contrast to the complexities of our human concerns. "You're right, Duke. Oh well, indeed." His presence was a gentle reminder not to dwell too much on the things I couldn't control.
As we headed back to the camp, I couldn't help but notice that the thick layers of dust covering the ground of Clivilius seemed particularly tough on Duke, his short legs struggling against the soft, treacherous terrain that threatened to swallow him with every step. Picking Duke up, I carried him the remainder of the distance.
"We'd better check on your other dad," I told Duke, a sense of responsibility washing over me. It was time to see how Jamie was faring after his encounter with the river, to offer whatever support I could.
Duke's bark, full of energy and agreement, echoed my sentiments.
Lifting my head, I scanned the surroundings with a growing sense of panic. Jamie was nowhere in sight. "Shit, shit, shit," I muttered under my breath, my gaze darting upstream and then swiftly downstream towards the lagoon. The possibility of Jamie venturing as far as the lagoon sent a wave of nervousness crashing through me. The lagoon... its serene beauty and the strange, unsettling effect it seemed to have on me lingered at the back of my mind, fuelling my apprehension. I know I have to check on Jamie, but maybe we shouldn’t be at the lagoon at the same time… The thought echoed, a reminder of the unexplained turmoil that place stirred within me. I had never doubted my sexuality before, but that lagoon... What was it doing to me? The question hung heavily in my mind, a mystery I was determined to unravel.
"Jamie!" My voice broke the silence as I jogged downstream towards the lagoon, calling out for him periodically. Duke, loyal as ever, tried to keep pace, but the thick, clinging dust proved too much for him, and with a reluctant glance back at me, he turned and headed towards the safety of the tent.
Reaching the lagoon, I continued to call out. "Jamie!" My voice echoed off the water, the only reply the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore. "Where the hell are you?" Frustration laced my words as they dissipated into the air, unanswered. My forehead creased with worry, the tight knot in my stomach growing with each passing moment of silence.
The pain in my foot, a constant reminder of our harsh environment, flared with intensity, urging me to sit and tend to it in the cooling embrace of the lagoon's water. But the urgency to find Jamie overshadowed my physical discomfort. The thought of anything happening to him under my watch was unbearable. Luke would never get over it if something tragic happened to him. And I'd be all alone here, the realisation hit me with a cold dread. The thought of solitude in this vast, unfamiliar world, without Jamie's presence, was a scenario I couldn't—and didn't want to—contemplate.
"Jamie!" The scream tore from my throat, raw and filled with a desperation I hadn't known I possessed. "Where the hell are you?" My voice echoed off the silent expanse of the lagoon, unanswered. Spinning on my good heel, my movements were too quick, too frantic, leaving me dizzy and nauseated. It was then, through the disorienting swirl of my surroundings, that I caught sight of it—a large hill, looming ominously on the other side of the lagoon.
With a sense of urgency propelling me forward, I forced my aching body up the steep incline of the hill. Each step was a battle against both the terrain and my own physical limitations. By the time I reached the top, I was gasping for breath, my body bent double as I tried to recover. My hands clamped down on my knees, a futile attempt to steady myself. It was in this moment of forced pause that I noticed the redness on my arms—another reminder of the harshness of this environment.
After a few minutes, with my head thrown back in an attempt to catch my breath, the reality of my situation hit me. "Shit," I cried out into the unforgiving sky. "I'm going to burn to a crisp out here." The thought spurred a new wave of panic. I have to find Jamie, and fast.
Lifting my head slowly, the landscape unfolded before me as I looked up from between my arms. "Holy crap!" The words slipped from me in a whisper of awe mixed with fear. Just a few meters from where I stood, the ground took a sharp, rocky drop, revealing cliffs that stretched for several kilometres on both sides of the river. From the safety of the lagoon, it had been impossible to tell the cliffs were there.
The river, a serpentine ribbon of blue, cut through the barren landscape, stretching into the horizon where it disappeared from sight. On the far side of the river, beyond the intimidating presence of the cliffs, the terrain flattened out, extending towards the distant mountains. These majestic peaks rose sharply from the ground, their silhouettes a testament to the raw, untamed beauty of this world.
With my hand raised to shield my eyes from the relentless glare of the sun, I squinted towards the horizon, trying to discern any sign of Jamie in the vast expanse. To my right, the landscape on my side of the river was a tapestry of gentle, dusty hills that cascaded down to the cliff's edge—a boundary between the rolling terrain and the sheer drop beyond.
Despite the overwhelming sense of emptiness, I couldn't help but find a harsh beauty in the scene before me. The sun painted the landscape in vibrant strokes of browns, oranges, and yellows, each shade blending into the next, contrasted against the clear blue of the river below. It was a beauty that was both striking and unforgiving, a reminder of the vastness of the world we now inhabited.
Yet, the breathtaking view offered no comfort in the absence of Jamie. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, trying to expel the growing sense of dread and helplessness with each exhale. If Jamie is out here, there’s no way I'm going to find him now. The thought was a bitter pill to swallow, a concession to the reality of our situation that I was reluctant to accept.
With a heavy heart, I began the trek back to the tent site, each step a physical manifestation of my defeat. My body ached, and my spirit was weighed down by sorrow. My head, once filled with determination, now sagged under the burden of a hundred terrible thoughts. The world around me felt both vast and oppressively small as I reentered the tent
"You look worse than I do," the familiar, croaky voice broke through the silence, pulling me out of my reverie.
My head snapped up in surprise, relief flooding through me at the sight of Jamie. "Where the hell did you go? I've been searching for you," I blurted out, the frustration and worry of the past hour condensed into a single question.
"I know," Jamie replied, his voice weak but filled with an apologetic tone. "I could hear you calling out, but every time I try to move, it starts to bleed again."
I stared at Jamie's bare chest, where he lay on the mattress, the welt that marred his skin looking more menacing with each passing moment. "The water didn't help then?" I asked, hoping against hope that he had found some relief.
Jamie shook his head, a gesture laden with defeat. "I didn't make it to the river." He took a laboured breath before continuing, "I went too far upstream and then I collapsed before I had the chance to get in the water."
"Probably just as well," I found myself saying, trying to find a silver lining in the situation. "Or you could have collapsed in the water." The thought sent a shiver down my spine, the potential consequences too dire to fully contemplate.
"I know. Thankfully, Duke found me." The mention of Duke brought a small smile to my face, the loyal dog proving once again to be more than just a pet.
"And how did you make it back here?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as I gave Duke a quick scratch behind his ear, a silent thank you for his role in Jamie's return.
"Luke," Jamie said simply. "Duke fetched Luke and he carried me."
"Luke was here?" The question was rhetorical, my mind already piecing together the events that had transpired.
"Yeah. He brought in Duke and Henri's beds and box of toys," Jamie added, managing a faint smile as he gestured around the tent.
I couldn't help but smile back. "At least he gets some things right."
Jamie's smile, though faint, was a clear indication of the deep bond between him and Luke. Observing their interactions over the years, I've always sensed a profound connection, one that went beyond mere companionship. Yet, their reluctance to openly acknowledge the depth of their relationship puzzled me. Why do they feel the need to hide their feelings for each other? I wondered. After all, they've been together for a decade. The complexity of their dynamics, the unspoken emotions and the silent strength of their bond, was something I had yet to fully understand.
"I'm going to start putting up another one of these tents," I announced to Jamie, wanting to ensure he was comfortable before I began. "Do you need anything first?"
"No," he replied, his voice weak but resolute. He shook his head slightly. "I think I might try and get some sleep."
"Good idea," I responded, supportive of his decision to rest. Turning away, I made my way to the corner of the opposite wing of the tent where my suitcase lay. I quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, topping off my ensemble with my favourite cap. Despite knowing the outfit would result in discomfort due to the heat, the necessity to protect my already drying skin from further damage outweighed my concern for personal comfort. The harshness of the Clivilius sun was unforgiving, and my skin had reached its limit of exposure.
Approaching the Drop Zone to collect the tent boxes, I noticed the absence of the small truck that had been there before. It clicked in my mind that Luke must have taken it back when he brought over Duke and Henri's beds and toys. It was a moment of realisation that perhaps I had been too quick to judge Luke's contributions; he was doing what he could, in his own way, to help us manage.
I found a large box with a blue, plastic strip on top and started the laborious task of dragging it through the thick dust back towards our campsite. The work was monotonous and physically draining. The heat bore down on me mercilessly, mixing with the dust to create a gritty film on my skin. Sweat plastered my clothes to my body, and fatigue tugged at my muscles. Despite the exhaustion, the relentless churn of thoughts and worries in my mind spurred me on, not allowing me the luxury of rest.
As I neared the end of my task, moving the last of the boxes, the Portal caught my attention once again. The familiar burst of colours across its screen heralded Luke's return, this time driving another small truck into the Drop Zone. I paused in my work to watch him navigate the vehicle with a level of ease and confidence that spoke of his growing familiarity with the process. He steered the truck with surprising skill through the narrow passage between two rock stacks and into the Drop Zone, an expression of his commitment to aiding our survival efforts.
I had no idea what to expect. My latest requests to Luke had been focused on personnel, not supplies. So, when the truck ground to a halt in the Drop Zone, my curiosity piqued. Opening the back, I peered into the dim interior, the low light casting shadows on the contents.
"An assortment of shelving," Luke declared, materialising beside me as if summoned by the very act of my investigation.
"Shelving?" I echoed, the word feeling foreign in the context of our current situation. "What for?"
"For the sheds," Luke replied, his tone suggesting that the purpose should have been self-evident.
I couldn't help but let out a slight, incredulous laugh. "I think we're a bit far from needing shelves," I admitted, my initial enthusiasm for Luke's arrival ebbing away like water in sand. The reality was quite different to the one Luke seemed to be imagining—we were still grappling with the basics of construction. "We still haven't finished the first concrete slab."
Luke's response was nonchalant, almost as if he had anticipated the course of our conversation. "Oh, that reminds me," he said, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to retrieve several folded pieces of paper. "The concrete instructions," he announced, extending the paper towards me.
"Thanks, Luke," I responded, accepting the papers with a mix of gratitude and resignation. The physical weight of the instructions in my hand felt like a tangible representation of the responsibility resting on my shoulders. Without even glancing at the contents, I tucked the papers into my back pocket, their existence a reminder of the tasks that lay ahead.
Helping Luke unload the boxes of shelving from the truck felt somewhat surreal, given our current priorities. Nonetheless, we worked together to stack them neatly in their designated corner of the Drop Zone, a witness to Luke's planning, even if it seemed misaligned with our immediate needs.
"I'll be back soon," Luke announced with a sense of urgency, his figure quickly disappearing into the cab of the truck. The engine roared to life, a sound that momentarily filled the expanse of the Drop Zone before fading away as Luke and the truck vanished through the Portal. The colours of the Portal, vibrant and mesmerising, followed suit, leaving behind a silence that seemed to amplify my solitude.
I turned to face the large stacks of shelving boxes, their presence almost mocking in the vast emptiness of the Drop Zone’s borders. I shook my head slowly, a mix of disbelief and resignation washing over me. Luke's priorities seem a little off, I couldn't help but think. Despite the logic that might have driven his decision, the timing felt completely ill-conceived.
Pulling the folded paper from my back pocket, I carefully unfolded it, my eyes quickly scanning the concrete laying instructions Luke had provided. The precision of the instructions was apparent, an appealing contrast to the ambiguity that often shrouded our daily existence here. Yet, even with such clarity, the task ahead seemed daunting, reinforcing the reality of our situation—so much to do, with so few hands to do it.
"Oh, Luke," I murmured to myself, a sigh escaping as I refolded the paper and tucked it away. "Please bring us a handyman soon." The sentiment felt like a prayer, a plea for relief in the face of overwhelming odds.
With the instructions secured in my pocket once again, I turned my attention to the last tent box, its blue plastic strip a beacon of my immediate focus. The tent is your priority now, I reminded myself, the resolve hardening within me.
