The Breach (Part 2)

Rust! The water was thick with scales of rust and gave off a slightly stagnant odour as he shook the can and washed the contents around the rim. The can had been filled with fresh water this morning and the insides of the cans were treated and still as new. He took a closer look at the inside of the can, shining the light in as far as he could. Where he could see the inner walls of the can they reflected the light back off gleaming sides. No good for drinking then, he thought, but at least it would get the jeep going again. He finished topping up the radiator and slammed the hood down.

'Jesus!,' His feet almost left the ground with the shock. A face, the oldest face he had ever seen, staring out at him through the windscreen of the jeep. The face was on the passenger side. Eyes the colour of the evening sky stared back intently at Matt Wildcloud. The eyes did not look as old as the face. After the first wave of shock had subsided he marched angrily to the passenger door and wrenched it open. Peering inside he saw that the eyes were set into a face which did indeed belong to what was probably the oldest person he had ever seen in his life. The old man looked comfortable, completely at ease sitting in the wide seat. He gestured for Matt to get in, waving a desiccated arm across the windscreen to the seat opposite.

'What the hell do you think you are doing old man?' Matt shouted, his anger subsiding somewhat on realising that the old man posed no obvious threat to him.

'You almost gave me a heart attack!.'

The old man seemed indifferent to his indignation.

'Look.'... He pointed over Matt Wildcloud's shoulder into the desert beyond the roadside verge. Matt looked around, automatically obeying the old mans' instruction.

'What is it old man?, I see nothing.'

'Exactly, spat the old man, 'Nothing..........Get in.'

To his surprise Matt once again did as the old man said without objection. He strapped himself into the drivers seat and turned to face his new passenger.

'What are you doing out here, miles from anywhere?,' he asked.

'Getting a ride, I hope.' The old man answered. 'Drive.'

Matt started the engine. 'Are you always this polite to people who help you out?'

The old man looked at Matt oddly, a slightly amused expression creeping into his wizened features.

'Who's helping who?' He grinned Mysteriously.

Matt sighed and shrugged his shoulders resignedly, 'Where are you headed?.'

A gnarled finger pointed straight ahead.

'That way.....for a while.'

Matt pulled away and drove in silence for a mile or so. The old man just sat there, nodding approvingly now and then as if he was forever expecting something to go wrong and was pleased that it had not yet happened.

After a dozen or so miles of this uncomfortable silence, the old man indicated that Matt should pull over. To the left of the jeep the strange shapes of the wind cut hills obscured their view after a short distance. To the right the desert was bathed in the silver cast of unbroken moonlight. Matt felt a definite chill in the air as he climbed once again from the jeep at the old mans gesture.

'Here!, this way, it's this way,' The old man seemed to be getting quite agitated and glanced about as though searching for a way through the desert scrub at the foot of the barren hill ahead. 

'What?' Matt insisted, 'What's that way, Where are we going?.'

'Come.' Whispered the old man, and disappeared through the scrub.

Something compelled Matt to follow, he felt somehow that this was important. He knew that this was exactly what he should be doing at just this moment, but every time he tried to think clearly about what he was doing his mind seemed to drift back to the only concise thought he could grasp. He must do just what the old man says. It was of paramount importance that he obey the old man.

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