The soft crackling of the campfire provided a soothing backdrop, its warm, flickering light casting dancing shadows on the faces of my fellow settlers. This small circle of light carved out a cozy haven in the enveloping darkness. The sound of the metallic gate clanging shut behind us was a reminder of our return to the enclosed settlement. That sound had become a symbol of both safety and confinement.
"It feels a bit like a zoo here now," Luke's voice pulled me from my thoughts as I neared where he and Beatrix were conversing. His observation struck a chord within me, echoing my own sentiments as I scanned the lively activities around the campfire.
I sighed in agreement, the weight of our circumstances pressing down on me. "Except this time, I think we are the animals locked in the cage," I remarked, a hint of irony in my voice. We had stumbled here with our freedom intact, only to find ourselves confined in a different way, our lives now dictated by the whims of this enigmatic world.
Beatrix pointed towards the Drop Zone, her expression mixing concern with a hint of disapproval. "I'm not so sure that the goat and chickens that you've locked in the car out there would agree with you," she remarked.
"It won't always be this way," Luke assured, rubbing his brow in contemplation. His gaze then settled on Beatrix, acknowledging her vital role in our survival. "Beatrix and I will bring you more supplies tomorrow."
Beatrix nodded in agreement, her determination clear. "Yeah, I'll get you as many motorhomes as I can over the next few days."
Luke’s optimism was indeed contagious. "And you’ve got some skilled people here now; you’ll have a little village built and buzzing with enthusiasm in no time."
Before Beatrix could offer a counterpoint, I quickly stepped in, wanting to steer our conversation towards more pressing matters. "Speaking of motorhomes and supplies, Luke can give you my house keys," I said, looking towards Luke.
“Yeah, I’ve got them all in a safe space," Luke confirmed, his voice conveying a reassuring calmness that he had everything under control.
“If Claire and the kids really have gone to Queensland, I doubt they’ll return anytime soon," I added, my voice tinged with a hint of resignation. I was referring to Beatrix's recent visit to my house in Broken Hill. She had found it eerily quiet and empty, a stark contrast to the life and warmth my family once brought to it.
Luke gave me a curious glance, his right eye raised slightly, sensing the deeper implications of my words, the unspoken pain of separation and uncertainty.
I chose to ignore my brother's silent questioning gaze and maintained my focus on Beatrix. "You may as well bring anything from the house that looks useful," I suggested. In times like these, we had to utilise every resource available to us, no matter how small.
Kain, hobbling over on his crutches, joined our circle. "Include furniture with that. I could really do with a good couch to rest my leg," he said, his voice carrying a blend of determination and weariness.
His comment slightly shifted the mood, bringing us back to the more immediate concerns of our daily survival. "Has it still not healed fully yet?" Luke asked, his concern evident in his furrowed brow.
"No," Kain replied, his voice carrying a trace of sadness. "I don’t seem to be as privileged as Joel.”
“Any news on that front?” Luke inquired, his gaze intensifying, the fading light of the day doing little to conceal the concern on their faces.
“No,” Kain answered, shaking his head, a shadow of uncertainty passing over his expression.
“We’ve not seen anything of Joel, Jamie, or Glenda,” I added, the weight of our missing comrades heavy on my mind. Their absence was a constant, gnawing worry that seemed to grow with each passing day.
"Give them a couple of days," Luke suggested, his tone more hopeful than confident. I could tell he was trying to keep our spirits up, but the uncertainty in his voice was clear.
"And then what?" I asked, my voice tinged with the frustration and unease that had been building within me.
Luke's shrug was a silent admission of our collective helplessness, an acknowledgment that the future held no guarantees.
Kain's scoff broke the brief silence, his frustration evident. "You’ve really got no idea what you are doing, do you, Luke?"
“It’s not that easy,” Beatrix interjected sharply, leaping to Luke’s defence. I raised an eyebrow at her quick response. Tensions were clearly running high, and everyone was feeling the strain of our situation.
“You don’t have to tell me that,” Kain retorted, his demeanour suddenly shifting as he adjusted himself with his crutches, a brief flicker of irritation crossing his face.
“And while I think of it,” I interjected, cutting off Beatrix before she could escalate the situation further. “My car is still parked at the Adelaide airport carpark. Can you collect it for me and bring it here?” Inside, I acknowledged the impracticality amidst the dust and chaos of Clivilius, but it seemed only fair that if everyone else had their cars here, I should have mine too.
Beatrix, after shooting Kain one last glare, begrudgingly agreed to my request. “Sure,” she muttered, her annoyance barely masked.
“Oh,” Luke’s sudden enthusiasm caught me off guard. “I am flying from Hobart to Adelaide first thing in the morning. I won’t have time to collect Paul’s car, but I can register a Portal location to make it easier for you, Beatrix.”
Beatrix’s reply was swift, countering Luke's offer with her usual determination. “Thanks, but there’s no need to fly. I’ve already registered several locations in Adelaide.”
Luke seemed slightly deflated by her response but quickly rallied, his optimism undaunted. “I’ve already got my flight booked. I may as well use it. Besides, I might find something useful at the airport. It’ll give you a much closer point of entry for collecting Paul’s car.”
“Alright,” Beatrix agreed with a gentle shrug, and I watched the interplay with interest, noting the subtle dynamics between them, a dance of cooperation and independence that defined our existence in Clivilius.
After allowing the conversation to unfold naturally, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. “What are you actually going to Adelaide for, Luke?” I asked, fixing my gaze suspiciously on my brother, my mind buzzing with thoughts.
Luke hesitated for a moment, as if gauging the impact of his words. “I’m thinking I might bring our parents and siblings to Clivilius,” he confessed, the conviction in his voice unwavering, his eyes gleaming with determination.
Beatrix gasped loudly, her surprise echoing the collective astonishment in the air. "Is that a good idea?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of apprehension.
Given the recent thoughts that had crossed my own mind regarding the possibility of bringing our family here, I found myself suddenly answering on Luke's behalf, my words filled with a newfound sense of hope. "It’ll be a lot more mouths to feed, but I think you are right. I think they could really help us here."
Beatrix, ever practical, sought to understand the magnitude of this potential influx. "How many?" she inquired, her brow furrowing as she attempted to gauge the scale of the situation.
“Only Adelaide?” I turned to Luke, seeking clarification.
“I think so, for now,” Luke replied, his voice tinged with anticipation.
I turned back to Beatrix. “Parents and three brothers.”
“Two brothers,” Luke instantly corrected.
I cast Luke a questioning look, wondering why the third brother had suddenly disappeared.
“Eli is still visiting Lisa in the United States,” Luke clarified, providing context for our family dynamics.
“Girlfriend?” Beatrix asked, trying to keep track of our family tree.
“Sister,” Luke and I responded simultaneously, a rare moment of brotherly synchrony that drew a smile from me.
"Oh, you’ve got a big family," Beatrix remarked, her fingers mentally counting the number of siblings.
“Yep,” came our second unified brotherly response.
“Are you going to bring them to Bixbus tomorrow?” I asked Luke, my thoughts already racing with plans on how to accommodate our family in this new world.
Luke shrugged casually. “I’m not sure yet. I still haven’t worked out the best way to approach them.” He paused, his gaze shifting to me. “Any ideas?” he inquired, seeking my perspective.
It was my turn to shrug, though my mind was already racing with possibilities. But as I remained silent, the most obvious answer sprung to mind. “I suspect that all you need to do is find a way to convince dad, and the rest will easily follow.”
Luke pondered my suggestion, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I think you’re onto something there,” he finally admitted, a spark of realisation in his eyes.
Feeling a sense of accomplishment in helping Luke strategise, I watched as he and Beatrix prepared to leave. “Come on, Beatrix,” Luke said, his voice tinged with excitement, “Let’s get you these keys.”
As they walked away, the fire crackled louder in their absence, casting playful shadows across the campfire. I stood there, contemplating the significant changes that were about to unfold in our small community. Bringing our family to Clivilius was a bold move, one filled with both uncertainty and hope, but perhaps it was precisely what we needed to solidify our presence and survival here in Bixbus.
The evening air began to change, a subtle shift that caught my attention like a whisper in the dark. I felt the wind pick up, brushing against my skin with a cold, eerie touch, sending shivers down my spine. My heart rate quickened, and a sense of dread began to seep into my bones, a familiar unease that was hard to shake.
“It’s just a gentle breeze,” Nial said, noticing my discomfort, his voice calm and reassuring. But his words did little to ease the knot of anxiety tightening in my gut, a deep-seated fear that had been etched into my soul.
I wanted to believe him, to embrace the rational explanation he offered, but memories of that first harrowing night in Clivilius clawed at the edges of my mind. Jamie and I had faced a dust storm like no other, shrouded in darkness and terror, my mind tormented by hallucinations that were as vivid as they were horrifying. The scars from that night still haunted my dreams.
I glanced around at the new faces, the settlers who had joined us in this strange, unforgiving land. They were chatting, laughing, oblivious to the potential danger that a mere change in the wind could herald. I couldn’t bring myself to shatter their semblance of peace, to tell them about the nightmarish experience that still haunted me.
I forced a smile, trying to mask my rising panic. “Yeah, just a breeze,” I echoed Nial’s words, but they felt hollow, the lie becoming a barrier between me and the others.
As I stood there, the wind continued to gather strength, swirling eddies of ochre dust about us. Each gust felt like a warning, a prelude to something far worse than a simple change in weather. The air seemed charged with an ominous energy, and I couldn't shake the feeling that Clivilius was about to reveal its darker side once again.
I remembered how helpless I had felt that first night, how unprepared we had been for the raw power of Clivilius. Despite our efforts to survive here, we were still at the mercy of this world’s unpredictable nature.
Glancing at the sky, I searched for any sign of an impending storm. The inky black canvas above remained silent, offering no clue to the secrets the night might hold. I could only hope that this wind was nothing more than Nial believed it to be – just a gentle breeze, and not the harbinger of another ordeal.
In that moment, I made a silent vow to myself and to the settlers of Bixbus. I would do everything in my power to prepare us for whatever Clivilius threw our way. We might not be able to control this world, but we wouldn’t be caught off guard again. For the sake of my children and the people who had become my family, I would see to that, whatever it took.
