Glenda De Bruyn (4338.206.1 - 4338.209.4) by nateclive | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

4338.208.4 | Welcome to Bixbus

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"Not much of a settlement, is it," Chris remarked as we approached the cluster of tents and improvised structures that made up our small encampment. His tone carried a blend of disappointment and disbelief, as if the reality before him fell short of an expectation he hadn't realised he'd held.

"Is this it?" Karen's voice echoed Chris's sentiment, her confusion palpable.

"This is it," I confirmed, my voice steady despite the undercurrent of apology I felt for their apparent letdown. "Welcome to Bixbus." The name of our settlement, chosen in a moment of camaraderie and perhaps a touch of whimsy, suddenly felt exposed under their scrutiny.

"Bixbus?" Chris's repetition of the name was tinged with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "I thought we were in Clivilius?"

"Oh," I managed between light laughs, "we are in Clivilius, but we've called our own little settlement Bixbus."

"Oh," he said, his demeanour shifting to one of sheepish acceptance.

I watched Karen intently as she stood there, lost in her own thoughts, her moment of introspection interrupted by Jamie's emergence from the tent, Duke faithfully at his heels. It was only then, with the camp's daily life resuming around us, that I noticed the frying pan lying upside down in the dust, its contents—a mishmash of scrambled eggs—strewn about. An inward sigh escaped me. All that effort for breakfast, now just part of the landscape.

"Duke?" Karen's voice was tinged with a note of recognition as she squatted down to greet the eagerly tail-swishing dog. Her familiarity piqued my interest, pulling my attention away from the disappointment of the spoiled breakfast.

"You know him?" My curiosity was genuine, the distraction from my earlier frustration welcome.

"Not really," Karen admitted, her gaze shifting from Duke up to me. "I've seen pictures. Is Henri here too?"

A heavy sigh left me as I glanced towards the remnants of our intended meal by the campfire. "I'm assuming he had something to do with that mess?" The question, directed towards Jamie, who had been tasked with food supervision, carried a blend of accusation and resignation.

"That assumption would be correct," Jamie's response came, an admittance of the morning's culinary misadventure. "Now he's sulking in his bed."

"Not quite," I couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation and Jamie's description of Henri's sulking lightening my mood. I pointed towards the tent, where Henri had emerged and stopped a few meters from the entrance, perhaps intending on joining his brother or returning to the scene of his culinary crime.

"Hi, I'm Jamie," Jamie introduced himself with a straightforwardness that had become a hallmark of his personality.

"Ahh, Luke's partner," Karen recognised him almost immediately.

"Yep."

"This is Karen, and her husband Chris," I interjected, ensuring proper introductions were made, hoping to bridge any gaps of familiarity quickly.

"Bus friend, Karen?" Jamie inquired, a trace of curiosity threading through his words.

"Yes," Karen replied, her voice tinged with a soft chuckle. "That'd be me." Her acknowledgment seemed to carry a weight of shared history, a connection to Luke that predated our current circumstances.

"I'd normally say nice to meet you, but this is hardly a fun place to meet in," Jamie stated, unapologetically.

"Do you mind if Chris and I take a moment for a quick chat, just us?" Karen's request came suddenly, her gaze flitting between Jamie and me.

"Sure," I agreed without hesitation. "A river runs behind the tents. Might make a more pleasant spot for you."

"Thanks, Glenda," said Karen, then she grabbed Chris by the arm and dragged him away like a mother pulling their child from the confectionary shelves at the supermarket.

As the new couple vanished from view, Jamie exchanged a nonchalant glance with me. With a carefree shrug, he turned as if ready to return back to his tent.

"Wait! Do you hear that?" I suddenly exclaimed, my voice laced with a mix of curiosity and growing unease.

Jamie, caught off guard by my abrupt halt, stopped in his tracks. His head tilted to the side, his face wrinkling in concentration as he strained to catch the distant sound that had caught my attention. "Engine?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of skepticism.

"It definitely sounds like a vehicle," I replied, my gaze fixed on the unseen source of the noise. Jamie stepped closer to me. "That's impossible... isn't it?" I added, my voice trembling ever so slightly.

My heart began to race, its frantic beats echoing in my ears. I couldn't help but wonder if we were about to face the unexpected. Other people? Are they friendly or a potential threat? My mind raced with a whirlwind of questions, and a cold shiver ran down my spine. What had happened to Paul and Kain? Are we in danger?

"Shit," I whispered under my breath, my eyes darting around the campsite, searching for anything that could serve as a defensive weapon. Panic flickered in my eyes. "We should arm ourselves."

"Huh?" Jamie's eyes widened, his expression a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

"Quickly," I insisted, my voice taking on a note of urgency as I tugged on his arm with determination. "We need to arm ourselves."

Scanning the area for anything that could be useful, I picked up the closest log I could find. It had served as a makeshift seat around the campfire moments earlier, but now it seemed destined for a more formidable role. "No, too heavy," I muttered, quickly discarding the idea. My eyes darted around, seeking a more suitable option. "Aha! Perfect!" I exclaimed, snatching up the upturned frying pan from the nearby cooking area. I held it up as if it were Excalibur itself, a makeshift shield against an uncertain threat. I looked up at Jamie, determination in my eyes. "This should do, yeah?"

A grin split Jamie's face, his relief palpable. "It's only Paul and Kain!" he exclaimed, his laughter filling the air, defusing the tension that had gripped us moments ago.

"Oh, it is?" I asked, rising to my feet and squinting toward the horizon. A cloud of thick sandy dust billowed in the distance, obscuring my view of the approaching vehicle. Jamie's assurance, however, proved accurate as I soon discerned the familiar silhouette of a ute struggling through the haze. The harsh Clivilius sun cast long shadows, outlining the distinctive frames of Paul and Kain in the front seats. Even before the ute pulled to a stop at camp, their contrasting heights and distinctive facial features became unmistakably evident through the dusty windshield.

With a jarring stop that kicked up a small storm of dust, the vehicle finally came to a halt in our campsite.

"That was bloody awesome!" Kain shouted with unbridled enthusiasm, his voice filled with excitement and adrenaline as he and Paul met at the front of the ute for a hearty high-five. The dust had painted their faces and clothes with a gritty veneer, but their expressions radiated a contagious sense of accomplishment.

"Apart from clogging up the engine!" Paul laughed in response, shaking his head at the unexpected detour they had taken.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Jamie called out, his curiosity piqued by the dramatic entrance.

"Come on," Kain replied, his focus seemingly fixed on the thrill of their recent adventure rather than Jamie's question. "You have to admit even that was fun.”

I watched their camaraderie unfold, torn between relief at their safe return and a lingering sense of unease. The dust settled around them, coating everything in a fine layer of ochre, but the atmosphere in our camp was anything but settled.

"Guys!" I shouted, my voice breaking the reunion as Karen and Chris returned from their private conversation. "We have two new guests."

"I wouldn't call them guests," Jamie interjected flatly, his words laced with a heavy dose of skepticism. "They're not going anywhere."

The group fell into an eerie silence, the realisation of this new dynamic sinking in like a lead weight.

Paul was the first to break the icy silence. "I'm Paul," he said, extending his hand toward Chris with a tentative smile.

"Chris Owen," the short, thin-haired man replied, shaking Paul's hand with a cautious nod. "And this is my wife, Karen," he added, glancing toward the woman beside him.

"Nice to meet you, Karen," said Paul, offering her his hand as well.

Kain introduced himself next. "Kain," he said, following Paul's lead. "Jamie's nephew."

"Ahh," Karen's eyes lit up with recognition.

"I see you've met Jamie," Paul said, motioning toward where Jamie had retreated to stand under the canopy of his tent with Henri perched at his feet.

"We've only just met, but Luke has told us a lot about him over the years," Karen explained, her voice tinged with a mix of warmth and curiosity.

"Us?" questioned Chris, his brows knitting in confusion. "I've never heard his name before."

"Not you, darling. Jane," Karen clarified, a fleeting smile gracing her lips.

"Who's Jane?" Kain inquired.

"Oh," Paul exclaimed loudly, drawing everyone's attention. "You must be one of Luke's bus friends."

"Yes," Karen replied simply, her gaze drifting back to Chris.

"But where is Luke?" Kain asked, turning to Chris for answers.

"He's not here," Karen responded on Chris's behalf, her voice tinged with an air of finality that hung heavily in the air.

"Appears this was another accident," I chimed in, my voice heavy with disappointment as I responded to the questioning glare Paul shot my way.

"Figures," Kain muttered under his breath, his words just audible enough for everyone to catch, reflecting the sombre mood that had settled over our camp like a dark cloud.

"Not to be rude, but what do you actually do?" Paul inquired, his curiosity apparent as he sought to understand the newcomers.

I couldn't help but feel a spark of amusement at the question. I thought I could be blunt, I mused to myself, my lips curling into a cheeky smile.

"I'm an entomologist," Karen replied, her face lighting up with pride at her profession.

"A what?" Paul's brow furrowed in confusion.

"She studies bugs," Kain chimed in helpfully.

"Oh," Paul's expression remained a portrait of crinkled bewilderment.

“Insects," Karen corrected Kain, glaring at him. "Insects, not bugs."

They are different, I found myself agreeing with the woman.

"Well," Karen began, her tone matter-of-fact. "Insects need an environment to thrive. I work with the University of Tasmania to understand how they contribute to ecosystems and collaborate with local communities and environmental groups to advocate for greater protections." She delivered her explanation with a fervour that left little room for interruption, barely pausing to take a breath.

"That's great!" Paul exclaimed, his eyes brightening with newfound understanding as he absorbed Karen's passion and purpose. He then gestured for Chris to answer the same question.

"I do yard work," Chris replied, his response significantly less grandiose than Karen's.

"Yard work?" Kain questioned, his tone reflecting his curiosity.

With a calm demeanour, Chris crouched down and silently scooped a handful of the dusty ground beneath us, letting it trickle through his fingers like a fading hope.

"It's everywhere!" Paul exclaimed, his exasperation evident in his voice.

"Fucking oath, it is," Jamie added with a touch of bitterness, finally rejoining the conversation after his temporary withdrawal.

"Yeah, I've noticed that," Chris said, still gazing at the dust slipping through his fingers. He then looked up at his wife, a determination in his eyes. "But if this is our home now, we'll find a way." His words held a resilience that hinted at the challenges they had already faced and those that lay ahead, echoing the uncertain future that loomed over all of us in this inhospitable landscape.

"Call me crazy," Karen said with a warm smile directed at her husband, "But I trust Luke."

"You're definitely crazy then," Jamie sneered loudly, his derisive tone cutting through the conversation like a knife.

Anger surged through my veins, and my fists clenched reflexively. What an arrogant prick! I thought, my jaw tightening with frustration. I was on the verge of letting my outrage spill out in words when Karen unexpectedly beat me to it.

Karen stood her ground, her eyes radiating a steadfast determination as she faced Jamie's skepticism. Her voice, filled with an unwavering sense of optimism, flowed like a gentle stream. "A beautiful masterpiece starts with a single brushstroke. This is our blank canvas, let's create a masterpiece together."

My mouth fell open, and I found myself caught off guard by Karen's unexpected eloquence. Her words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the hope that seemed to persist even in the face of adversity. I couldn't help but be intrigued and moved by her perspective.

I have to find out what you know! I thought, directing my unspoken words towards Karen, a silent plea to uncover the source of her unwavering faith in Luke.

"I better check in with Joel," Jamie finally broke the heavy silence that had settled like a shroud over the camp. His words carried a weight of concern as he seemed to hesitate, unsure of what to make of our new companions. "Nice to meet you both," he added, offering a brief half-wave before disappearing inside the tent.

"Joel?" Karen's voice held a note of curiosity, her raised brow indicating her desire for more information.

"Jamie's son," I replied, offering a hint of context to ease her confusion.

"He's not been well," Paul chimed in, his eyes briefly darting toward me, as if seeking my approval before revealing more. "I'm sure he'll be fine after a few days' rest."

"Yes," I agreed, interpreting Paul's discretion as a cue to refrain from delving deeper into Joel's enigmatic condition. I returned his sidelong glance with one of my own, a silent acknowledgment of our shared understanding. "Perhaps you and Kain would be best moving back in there for a short time," I suggested, nodding in the direction of Jamie and Joel's tent. It was the practical thing to do, given the limited shelter.

Shadows cast over Paul's face for a moment, but then a glimmer of hope brightened his eyes. "We have another tent," he exclaimed enthusiastically, pointing towards the ute.

"Brilliant!" I couldn't help but exclaim with genuine relief. The discovery of Luke's supplies couldn't be timelier, I thought to myself, silently thanking the absent Luke for his foresight.

"Looks like they got a little dusty," Kain remarked, his words carrying a hint of amusement as he hoisted the first box from the back of the ute. With a rough shake, he attempted to dislodge some of the clinging red dust that coated the top, causing a small puff of the fine particles to scatter into the dry air, creating a fleeting crimson cloud.

I watched with a mixture of fascination and trepidation as the cloud dissipated, the dust settling slowly back to the ground like a veil of forgotten memories.

"Here, let me take that," Chris offered, his voice calm as he stepped forward to take the box from Kain's hands.

"Thanks," Kain responded.

"May as well put it next to ours, I guess," Paul suggested, his eyes scanning the expanding campsite, and he pointed to the location of the third tent on the far right. It was clear that our makeshift settlement was growing, slowly but surely.

Chris nodded in agreement and began making his way toward the indicated spot, the box cradled carefully in his arms.

"Tent pegs," Paul declared, holding up a small box he had retrieved from the ute. He extended it toward Karen, offering her the essential items.

"Thanks," Karen said, her voice reflecting a hint of relief as she accepted the small box, her eyes drifting towards her husband's retreating figure as he set down the box he was carrying.

"I'm going back to the Drop Zone for the concrete," Kain announced as he swung open the front door, causing the hinges to creak in protest. Meanwhile, Paul redirected his attention towards the ute, preparing to collect the final box.

"Hold up," Paul interjected abruptly, his hurried steps nearly causing him to fumble with the box in his grasp as he rushed over to grab hold of Kain's arm.

"What?" Kain retorted, yanking his arm free with an easy, fluid motion. "If you want these sheds up, we gotta get this concrete poured asap."

Paul's brows furrowed in contemplation. "Five to seven days?" he inquired, seeking confirmation.

"Five to seven days," Kain affirmed, nodding as he spoke. "Although if we're going to keep getting these cloudless skies, we might get away with four."

I leaned against the opposite side of the ute's roof, observing their exchange with a sense of curiosity. Their conversation had captured my interest, but now I found myself somewhat perplexed. "What takes five to seven days?" I interjected, seeking clarity.

"We have to let the concrete rest," Paul explained.

"Ahh, that makes sense," I acknowledged, nodding in agreement. "How many sheds are we talking about?"

"Not sure," Kain replied. "I'll check how many Luke's left us."

"We may as well do as many slabs as we can for the concrete we have available," Paul suggested, his gaze sweeping across the barren landscape surrounding us. "I don't think we can have too much storage and protection here."

"And Luke can always bring us more sheds," I added optimistically, hoping to inject a note of encouragement into the conversation.

"I'll bring all the concrete supplies we have then," Kain declared, a sense of purpose in his voice as he swiftly climbed into the driver's seat, preparing to head back to the Drop Zone.

"I'll come with you," Paul offered, taking a step toward the passenger side of the vehicle.

"No offence," Kain began, his tone cautious, "but maybe you'd be better off helping Glenda with the new tent."

"Chris and I can help," Karen chimed in, rejoining the group with her husband in tow. "We're accustomed to camping on our short research trips. It shouldn't take too long."

I welcomed the offer with a sense of gratitude. The prospect of additional assistance brought a measure of relief. Paul's enthusiasm was undeniable, but I couldn't help but acknowledge Kain's preference to work without him. His practical skills are somewhat... lacking, I thought to myself, casting a glance toward Paul.

"Okay," Paul replied, his shoulders slumping slightly as he shrugged. "So, what am I doing now?"

As the group fell into a heavy silence, all eyes turned toward Paul. I couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity, watching his initial excitement begin to wane. "You're helping us put the tent up," I said, my voice as cheerful as I could muster, hoping to buoy his spirits and make him feel included in our efforts.

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