Free The Sands of Borrowed Time by Jeffry Winters Page B

newspapers and empty coke cans, their print and colourful logos bleached almost white from the Sun.  There was also discarded food, hanging from overfilled bins, most spilling onto the streets, dehydrated and unappetising, looking long past any nutritional value.  She had arrived in the city, and so far there was no one to be seen, not a soul, she thought.  At least as far as see could tell.  Everything looked barren and desolate.  In her isolation, her mind began racing; she felt a wave of paranoia and felt an urge to hide.  Maybe they were watching her; biding their time, waiting to pounce.  Maybe the city is infested with people, she continued to think, all getting along in their little groups but pitted against each other overall.  She thought it best to get some cover and a place to stay for a while.  She looked up at the building immediately before her.  It was towering way above her, taller than most of the buildings in the entire city.  She decided this was a good place to stay for a while.  Getting in was not too hard, she kicked in the wooden double doors a few times, and they yielded.  They slammed open with a thud.  She entered inside.  It was gloomy.  In front of her was a security desk unmanned, the chair tucked under as if waiting for the return of its owner.  There were lifts and a fire escape.  Between the two was a vending machine.  Skylar’s eyes widened.  It was half-full of coke cans. 
    “Perfect!” she shouted aloud as she kicked in the glass.  She found it amusing that it was a lot harder than breaking into the building itself.  Eventually, she won through and opened the first can she could grab, its clunk, its hiss, sounding very hospitable, she thought.  Swiftly, she took several gulps, gasping for air after the first few.  She felt dizzy from the immediate rush of sugar into her starving blood, her hands trembling uncontrollably, causing the coke to spill onto her already stained shirt and onto the dusty floor with a dying fizz.  She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds and savoured that peaceful, empty space within.  However, the fear deep within was too much and soon it came tumbling back into her mind like mayhem.  She felt a flurry of confusing emotions, wanting to cry, but held them back.  She took several more cans and loaded them into her bag.  She then walked towards to the lift, pressing the button knowing it wouldn’t work, then went to the staircase and walked up.  Most doors were locked.  She could see offices or storage rooms, but after a weary climb of several floors, she found an open room.  It looked spare, as it was empty, only containing the carpet, wall sockets looking unusually conspicuous beneath the windows.  She walked across the emptiness and towards the large window on the other side and looked out into the urban wilderness.  The air was yellow and dusty as usual, but she could make out the buildings that surrounded her, like shadowy figures in a swirling mist.  The streets again looked empty, apart from newspapers scuttling across the floor in the burning wind.  If she wanted a clear view of the whole city, she would need to go to the top floor and at night when the dusty air had settled and all was clear. 
    She decided to rest awhile, perched on the windowsill, peering out into the misty yellow haze, her mind tired, her limbs aching.  She looked back to the days when she was growing up on the farm with her parents.  It was many years after the supernova explosion.  She was very young, perhaps five or six years old.  Things were going downhill fast.  The crops were dying and there was little food for the livestock which became sick or starved and had to be culled.  People in the village were getting desperate as supplies stopped coming through, their own produce also declining fast.  Many left in the hope that they could find a better life, but Skylar knew from her travels that was not likely.  Everywhere