Frozen Desert

Well, my last two posts were an epic fail. Sorry bout that :D

But I need your help.

 

I have to do an English short story (and I have a maths test tomorrow why cri why algebra why you do dis to me) and I need help. I need advice, because I don't think it's that great and I'm roughly 300 words over the limit. So those of you bothered to read it.

Here it is.

 

“What is that?” Mew asks with a high pitched voice.

“If I knew, I would have told you” I reply with a huff.

“Sorta looks like ash” she says quietly.

“It can’t be. There are no volcanos in the desert. Are there even any in Australia?” I ask while stopping the car. The windscreen is covered in this flaky stuff.

“Don’t turn the car off! It’s freezing!” Mew throws her tiny body at the car keys, still in the ignition. The car replies with a soft hum.

“Stay here with Custard. I’ll scout around.” There’s definitely something going on here. At the sound of her name, an under coming white face appears from the back and meows grumpily. With a loud slam, I step outside.

A small cloud of mist escapes my lips, and the cold feels like I’ve been slapped in the face with a frozen fish. The white covered wonderland is covering something very unnatural. Snow. How can there be snow? I crouch to the ground and freeze as the sloppy snow seeps into my shoes.

I walk back to the car and scream with frustration. With a massive burst of strength I open the driver side door. “Oh my gosh, are you okay? You were gone for like ages and I was so worried and you looked like a ghost with all that white stuff on you and I was afraid you-“

“Mew, calm your farm okay? We have bigger worries right now. Try to get out.” Mew puts Custard at her feet and tries to open her door. “It’s, it’s stuck!”

“Exactly, the car is bogged.” Mew shoulder barges the door with little success. I slam my door again and slowly trudge to her door side. Kicking at the snow around it, I eventually free her. Custard jumps out first. Stupid cat.

We spend a good half hour kicking the snow and pushing the car. With our blue lips trembling, we finally crank up the air conditioning faster than you can say “kilt”.

Though it is unsafe to drive in this weather, I decide to go 10km/p. I know what dad would say. “It’s unsafe. We could hit something”, yada yada yada. Stupid dad, always on my case. He even said it was too dangerous to come here. I’m 24! Let me do what I want!

Mew blabs on about the environment for a while. The dead trees and animals and the snow is apparently linked to the melting of the polar ice caps, or so her mum says. She says that because they’re all melting, the sea is now really cold, and the wind has shifted so that Australia gets all the cold from Antarctica. Must be pretty bad if it reaches the desert.

All of a sudden the air con stops. So does the car. “Charlotte, did you break the car?”

“Shut up” I snap. Mew purses her lips and starts caressing Custard. I slam my head against the steering wheel, brace myself, and throw open the door. As soon as I open the boot, hot steam makes my eyes water. How can a car overheat in -20 degrees! “Argh! Bloody tin bucket!” Without closing the boot, I get in the car and I swear the door will break if I keep slamming it. “What’s wrong?” Mews voice quivers, blue arms hugging Custard.

“The engines died. If we stay in the car, the snow’ll trap us here. We need to find service.” I pause. “Can you get the map from the glove box?” She does, on the account that I hold Custard.

“Well, according to the map, we are in the middle of nowhere.”

“That’s just great. I suppose we’d better start walking then.” I grab Custard’s blanket from the back and hand it to Mew. Then, we gather up what little food we have and put it in my backpack.

There’s nothing but eerie silence, still air and white snow for ages. I can tell Mew is really struggling, even with the blanket and Custard’s body hear. I offer to carry her. “No th-thanks. I’m g-good. Just. Carry the. Back p-p-pack.”

After four hours of solid walking, we stop and eat, giving some to Custard. Only an hour later, the wind howls like hounds and feels like broken glass slicing our skin. When we think it can’t get much worse, lightning cracks the sky.

The blast from a nearby tree is so loud that in an attempt to cover her ears, Mew drops Custard. We hold each other for dear life and sink into the snow piling around us. That’s when we notice. Custard is gone.

“We can’t Mew! We have to keep moving!”

“Please Charlotte! Just for a minute. Please.” Her pleading eyes and frozen tears is enough to change my mind. We dig and dig and dig through the everlasting wind and ever pilling snow. We can barely see and can barely move through the snow, bodies so cold, but Mew will not give up. She’s relentless, calling and yelling and digging like she was a mad wolverine. Finally, the reality, the sorrow and the cold overtake her. She face plants in the snow.

If I could, I would lie there beside her, begging death to come. But I have to get her out. My arms ache so much that I have to drag her through the snow. I wish dad were here. I wish I had never left, endangering Mew’s life, and mine. I wish the headlights in the distance weren’t just my mind pranking me. I wish the message from my phone wasn't just an illusion.

Headlights?

“Ahoy! Charlotte! I’m coming!”

Dad?

I can’t take it. I can’t. Hold on. First Mew’s legs fall. Then my knees. Then my mind into oblivion.