"What do you make of them?" Kain inquired as I squatted beside him, watching as he and Jamie meticulously ran the screed over the freshly poured concrete slabs for the sheds.
"It looks mostly even. Maybe a bit more over there," I replied, extending a finger to indicate the spot that required a touch-up.
"I meant the new people," Kain clarified with a chuckle, his eyes briefly leaving the concrete to meet mine.
I glanced in the direction that Karen and Chris had wandered off to. Chris's determination to follow the trail of fertile soil had been unwavering, and after assisting with the tent, Karen had eagerly joined him in his quest. "They are well educated, especially Karen. I can see why Luke chose to bring them here," I mused, my thoughts drifting towards our new arrivals.
"You really think…" Kain began to ask, but our conversation was abruptly interrupted by the enthusiastic barking of a dog.
Looking up, a wide, joyful smile instantly spread across my face. I recognised that bark, and my heart leaped with excitement. Rising to my feet, I scanned the surrounding landscape, searching for the source of the familiar sound.
"Lois!" My voice carried across the camp, filled with excitement and anticipation. I began jogging towards her, my heart lifting with each step. The sight of my beloved golden retriever cresting the nearest hill and bounding towards me with unbridled joy, was a balm to my soul. Her silky fur seemed to catch the sunlight, rippling with each movement, embodying the essence of freedom and loyalty.
As I crouched down to welcome her, Lois wasted no time in lavishing me with a sloppy greeting across my cheeks, her tail wagging furiously. I laughed, a sound of pure joy, as I clapped her shiny fur enthusiastically. The feel of her warm, soft coat under my hands, the genuine affection in her eager licks, momentarily grounded me in a sense of normalcy and home.
As Joel emerged from the tent, Duke and Henri flanking him like a pair of mismatched guardians, Lois's exuberance was palpable. She bounded over, her energy infectious, her golden fur a blur of motion and light.
"Lois, down!" My voice, firm yet affectionate, aimed to temper her enthusiasm, not quell it. Approaching the trio, I watched as Joel, despite his recent ordeal, crouched down to welcome Lois's affection. He wrapped his arms around her, his actions gentle, a soft smile playing on his lips as he stroked her fur. The sight was heartwarming, a small but significant testament to the healing power of companionship.
"Seems she likes you," I observed, my smile broadening at the sight.
Duke began his approach, his movements deliberate as he circled around, sniffing curiously. The suddenness of his sniffing caught Lois off guard, prompting a playful jump backward. Her tail, however, continued to wag excitedly, a clear sign of her enjoyment of the moment.
Meanwhile, Henri, displaying his usual reticence, made a swift retreat into the tent, likely seeking the safety and comfort of his bed.
Lois, undeterred by Duke's cautious assessment, continued to jump around playfully, her joy uncontained. Watching Duke proceed with his careful investigation of Lois, I was reminded of the delicate dance of animal interactions, each movement and response a language of its own.
"We need a road," Paul's declaration cut through the air as he made his way down the final slope into camp, his voice carrying the weight of a decision that seemed overdue. The dust kicked up by his steps settled slowly, marking his path.
Lois immediately left Duke and Joel's side to greet Paul, her tail a blur of excited wagging. It was a simple joy, the kind that Lois always brought with her.
Caught off guard by Paul's sudden toss, my reflexes kicked in, and I managed to catch the keys thrown in my direction. The unexpected action brought a brief moment of surprise, quickly replaced by curiosity.
"Ooh, you're a gorgeous girl," Paul cooed at Lois, his attention fully on her as he crouched down to lavish her with affection.
"My car’s here?" The question slipped out, laced with disbelief as I held up the keys for Paul to see. His casual confirmation, "Yeah," as he continued to focus on Lois, sparked a mix of relief and concern. "It got bogged just over the hill," he added, almost as an afterthought.
"We definitely need a road," Kain chimed in, finding humour in the situation.
"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you," Paul retorted, his tone playful yet pointed. "You wanna be the one to collect the stuff in it or dig it out of the dust?" His question, a gentle jab at Kain's amusement, underscored the reality of the task ahead.
"Honestly," I huffed, my patience thinning. "This camp is like living with a bunch of children sometimes." My words, though spoken in a moment of frustration, carried a hint of affection for our makeshift family. Turning, I began to walk towards where Paul had indicated, Lois and Duke trailing behind me, their presence a comforting constant.
"I don't think she's got any children," Jamie's voice followed me, his joke a light-hearted attempt to ease the tension.
"I heard that!" My response, shouted over my shoulder, was a mix of mock indignation and amusement. Despite the challenges, the jests and jibes, there was a sense of camaraderie that bound us together, a reminder that we were not just survivors but a community, navigating the complexities of this new world side by side.
As the BMW finally came into view, my heart sank a little. There it was, my once shiny charcoal vehicle, now cloaked in a layer of ochre dust that seemed to mock the efforts of keeping anything clean in this environment. With a hefty sigh, I approached, my palm automatically reaching out to brush against the bonnet in a futile attempt to restore some of its former glory. The realisation of my mistake hit immediately, but with no better option available, I resignedly wiped my now dust-covered hands down the front of my slacks, grimacing as I did so. The fabric, already bearing the marks of camp life, accepted another layer of the land's signature.
"Fuck! You've done a good job, Paul," Jamie's voice, laced with a mix of sarcasm and disbelief, cut through my resignation as he crouched beside the car's buried back wheel. His tone was light, but the underlying critique was clear.
"It all happened so quickly," Paul defended, his voice carrying a note of frustration mixed with resignation
"I bet it did," Jamie retorted, his skepticism barely masked by the casualness of his reply.
Kain's soft chuckle offered a momentary reprieve from the tension. Turning my attention to the passenger door, I opened it to find a collection of blankets and pillows stuffed into the seat—a makeshift storage solution that now seemed almost comical.
The movement of Paul walking away caught my attention, prompting a reflexive call from me. "You're not staying, Paul?" My voice carried a mix of surprise and concern. His departure felt premature, especially given the task at hand.
Paul paused, his response hanging in the air between us. "I don't think Luke's done yet," he said, the ambiguity of his statement leaving more questions than answers. Then, without further explanation, he turned and continued walking.
"Think we can dig it out?" Kain's voice broke through the quiet as he crouched beside Jamie, assessing the situation with an eye for action rather than resignation.
"We're gonna need more than just our bare hands," Jamie countered, his tone realistic yet not defeated.
"Lois!" My voice cut through the air, a reflexive attempt to call back the golden retriever now trailing after Paul, her loyalty split between her human friends. But the call was ignored, or perhaps unheard, lost to the vastness of the landscape. I watched, a twinge of sadness mingling with resignation, as Lois and Paul's figures blended into the horizon beyond the next rise.
"Do you want to carry anything back now? Or wait to see if we can dig this car out?" Jamie's question, pulling me back from my thoughts, was pragmatic.
"Hmm," was my initial, non-committal response as I poked my head back through the passenger door, my hand reaching for something familiar amidst the uncertainty. My fingers found my memory-foam pillow, a small piece of comfort in a world that had been turned on its head. "I'll take this one for now," I decided, pulling the pillow out with a decisive tug.
"Joel?" Jamie's voice held a mix of surprise and concern as he called out. His tone immediately put me on alert, the casual conversation forgotten.
"I'll check on him when I get back to camp," I had replied initially, assuming Joel was safely resting. But Jamie's next words sent a jolt through me.
"Joel! What the hell are you doing here?" Jamie's voice, now filled with urgency, propelled me into action. I spun around so quickly that the pillow I was holding smacked against the car door, nearly slipping from my grasp.
"Help," came a weak, croaking voice from Joel. It was barely more than a whisper, but it was laden with determination.
"You need help?" Jamie rushed to Joel's side, his voice laced with concern, while gesturing for me to come over.
Joel, however, shook his head quickly, his eyes bright with a different kind of plea. "Help," he repeated, his finger pointing not at himself, but at the car ensnared by the dust.
Jamie's protective instincts kicked in. "I don't think that's a good idea. You should be resting," he argued, trying to coax Joel back towards the safety and comfort of the camp with a gentle, guiding pressure on his shoulders.
"Here, take this," I interjected, stepping forward. My movement was swift, brushing aside Jamie's hand as I reached out to offer the pillow to Joel. "As long as you are careful, I think some movement will be beneficial," I said, my voice firm yet encouraging. It was a delicate balance, acknowledging Joel's desire to contribute while mindful of his ongoing recovery.
Jamie's pout was almost palpable as he turned back to face Joel, his concern evident. "Are you sure you can manage?" he asked, his voice a mixture of resignation and hope.
Joel's response was a silent nod, a gesture of quiet confidence that spoke volumes.
Hands now free, I turned my attention back to the car, delving into the chaotic assortment of items that had been hastily thrown into the backseat. As I sifted through the pile, my heart leaped, a surge of joy washing over me as my fingers brushed against the familiar, hard case. My violin! Extracting it with care, I cradled the case in my arms, a sense of relief and unexpected happiness enveloping me.
"This must mean that Luke spoke with Pierre!" The realisation burst from me in a mix of excitement and wonder, my voice echoing slightly in the open air as I rested the case on the car’s bonnet. Carefully, I opened it, half expecting to see Pierre smiling back at me from within. The violin lay there, untouched and serene, a bridge to a life that felt both distant and achingly close.
"Your husband?" Jamie's voice, laced with curiosity, cut through my reverie.
"Yes," I answered, the mere mention of Pierre's name stirring a whirlpool of emotions within me. "I miss him terribly already." The words were a mere whisper, an admission of the loneliness that had taken root in my heart since I arrived here.
"How does your violin imply that Luke spoke with Pierre?" Jamie's skepticism was not unexpected, yet it stung a little.
"I highly doubt that Luke would have known to bring me my violin," I countered, my voice carrying a mix of conviction and hope. The violin wasn’t just an instrument; it was a piece of my soul, a connection to Pierre and the life we shared. It was inconceivable to me that Luke would have known its significance without Pierre telling him.
"You'd be surprised," Jamie retorted, a hint of amusement in his tone that implied he knew more about Luke's capabilities and thoughtfulness than I did. His words hinted at a depth to Luke that I had yet to fully appreciate, a reminder that we all had layers and secrets yet to be uncovered.
Returning the violin to its case, my emotions swirled, teetering between relief and a sudden spike of anxiety. "Where is Kain?" The question slipped out, laced with concern. His absence, unnoticed until now, sent a brief wave of panic through me, quickening my heartbeat.
"He went to the Drop Zone to see if there are any more shovels so we can dig this fucking wheel out," Jamie's response was matter-of-fact, though his choice of words betrayed his frustration with our current predicament.
A thought occurred to me, prompting me to tilt my head inquisitively. "Aren't there shovels near the shed site?" It seemed a logical place to find such tools.
Jamie's expression twisted, his nose scrunching up as if the answer left a bad taste. "They're covered in cement." The simplicity of his statement did little to mask the underlying implications of a day that had clearly not gone as planned.
My eyes narrowed, a mix of disbelief and resignation colouring my tone. "How the hell did they get… never mind." The question died on my lips, the details of their misadventure suddenly irrelevant. In this new reality, the absurd had already become commonplace, and I found I didn't really want to know the answer.
Turning my attention back to the violin, I pulled the case closer, wrapping my arms around it in a tight embrace. A wave of warmth cascaded down my spine, a sensation that seemed to echo the faint stirrings of hope within me. Lois's joyful return and now my violin—these were not mere coincidences but symbols of a thread connecting me to a past that still held sway over my heart. A silent thank you formed in my mind, directed at Luke, wherever he might be. His actions, whether directly intended or not, had brought me a measure of comfort and a reminder that amidst the uncertainty and challenges, there were still reasons to hold onto hope.
