Wanderer

Chapter 3-3

Kaira woke with a start. She hadn’t planned on going to sleep again. She remembered lying wrapped in the covers, enjoying the warmth, and then… and then waking up.

Dammit! The light was still on. She hoped the cover at the top of the crate would stop the light escaping but she certainly didn't want to rely on that working. Had Tarkus come to check on the cargo while she was sleeping? If so, had he noticed the light?

She had to hope not. The torch had at least been half obscured by the covers. She shoved it further under them so only a dim light lit the crate. Then she lay there, straining her ears for any movement or other sounds.

After several minutes of silence she decided she must still be undetected, and as her stomach rumbled her thoughts turned to food and drink. She pulled her backpack open and rooted through before pulling out one of the tightly sealed food bars. They’d cost most of what she’d had left after bribing Jace to get her onto the Glimmer, but they were worth the money. It would have been hard, probably impossible, to carry enough food and water to see her through the six day voyage and still to have sneaked aboard.

The ration bars solved that problem. While in their wrappers they were tightly packed and dry. Once exposed to air they underwent chemical changes which not only made them swell into something much more palatable, but also released enough water within them to keep someone going for a good eight hours. She had twenty-one of the bars. Enough for three per day, with three spares in case of any unforeseen circumstances.

Her stomach rumbled again as she broke open the packaging ready to watch the miraculous transition. As soon as she opened it she knew something wasn’t right. All the packet contained was dry, grey, powder. It didn't look anything like the bar she’d been shown when buying them.

Her fears were quickly realised. Instead of reacting quickly the dust simply sat there completely inert. The bar she’d seen demonstrated had fizzed and hissed as it rapidly underwent the changes.

She could feel panic trying to settle in but she fought it down. Maybe there was just one faulty bar. That could happen, she guessed. She pulled out another. It felt solid within the packaging. She broke it open… and found the same grey powder, the same total lack of a chemical reaction.

She forced herself to breathe evenly. This was bad, but maybe she could rescue something from it. She wet her finger, put it into the dust, brought it to her mouth.

The dust tasted disgusting and instantly dried her mouth out. She had to fight not to retch as she dropped the contents of both bars to the floor of the crate.

With shaky hands she pulled out bar after bar, opening each in turn and finding every single one was a dud. Then she just sat there, too numb to cry as she fought against the shock. Surviving the six-day journey without food would be difficult. Trying to survive without water… that was going to be impossible.

Yet she already knew there was no obvious source of water within the cargo hold. Which meant she seemed to have two options. Die of thirst, or leave the cargo hold and risk death by execution.