Sienna saw that there were two groundsheets in
the bag, and a few other items. Battery-powered torches and lanterns and such.
Sienna settled with one groundsheet on the
ground and one as a blanket. She took a small bit of food from her supplies and
sat with a torch and her copy of Carrie,
which always calmed her down in times of emotional turmoil.
Sienna was cold and scared but she curled up
and slept as best she could.
The morning came after what seemed like an
eternity of lying on a groundsheet, body cramped with the cold, waking at the
slightest noise and bursting into silent sobs that racked her whole body.
Sienna had a small breakfast consisting of a
sliver of bread. She knew that she had to conserve her supplies.
Sienna began packing up her tent. She needed to
get on the move again. She had serious ground to cover.
She walked for some time, no idea what
direction she was heading in, no idea how to get to the other side of the
Then she heard a noise from some way across the
“Come on Keir! We need to get to the city in as
little time as possible!”
“Shut up, you stupid tree hugger! Any idea how
hard it is mountain-hiking and smoking at the same time? Not easy!”
The voices argued, one carefree but urgent, the
other agitated and defensive.
Then appeared one of the men.
He couldn’t have been older than Sienna,
sixteen, seventeen at the most. He looked like a hippie the sixties had left
behind! He had brown-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail; a Nirvana tee shirt
and jeans with ripped knees. He was a tall, rangy figure with boundless energy,
practically skipping up the rugged terrain.
Another guy was following behind him. If the
first man was sixties hippie then the other was nineties
rock-lover-Goth-boy-punk sort of person. He had waist-length black hair with
electric-blue streaks running through it. He wore, to Sienna’s amusement, black
lipstick, mouth twisted down in a ‘don’t-talk-to-me’ sort of look. His eyes
were hollows of blue-purple, presumably from lack of sleep, though it could
have been make-up. He wore a number of silver skull-rings and a Rolling-Stones
tee shirt under a leather jacket. Sienna caught a glimpse of a heavily tattooed
wrist under the leather. Silver lip-rings fringed his lower lip. His eyes were
ice blue and shockingly wide.
Then the hippie-look-alike spotted Sienna and
dashed over to her, eager to say hi.
Sienna was pleased to find other people in the
mountains, even if they were different from any human beings she’d ever seen
She said to the hippie-boy as he walked up to
“Hey! I thought Keir and me were the only ones
up here! I’m James.”
He introduced himself.
Goth boy walked up eventually. Sienna noticed
that he held a diamond-encrusted revolver in one hand and a ruby encrusted
Mamba Pistol in the other.
“Ignore the guns. He likes his weaponry.”
Muttered James to Sienna as the Goth
Sienna’s eyes stayed fixed on the two jewel
encrusted weapons though.
The Goth muttered, fitting the stereotype of
the moody Goth-boy perfectly.
There was an awkward silence.
James ignored the silence and tried to keep the