SHELLEY STUCK CLOSE to her small group of friends as they moved on foot from the shuttle garage to the beach. Her parents had taken her and Kurt to the beach before, but because of the expense, the weather, and the long hike out, the family had only gone a couple of times. Going to a place like the beach with her friends, where the air felt clean and there was nothing looming beyond but sand dunes and a vast, grey ocean, somehow enabled her to breathe a little easier than she usually did. The fact that she was going without her parents' knowledge made the trip both worrisome and exhilarating.
The clouds lumbered overhead, threatening. It had not rained all day, but the ground was still wet and soft from last night's deluge. Shelley realized early into the hike that the thick mud was destroying her sneakers. Everyone in the group seemed to be sharing her tough luck, and she was thankful that she had opted not to wear her dress flats. She had considered it in a brief, clouded moment of vanity, but luckily, she had come to her senses when she considered the length of the planned hike. She noticed that her friend Charlotte had not.
Charlotte had flaming red hair and a thick distribution of freckles on her pale face. Her green eyes had a recklessness to them that depicted a past about which she talked very little. She carried her short heels in one hand, moving barefoot through the cold mud. Her face showed a combination of disgust and determination as she struggled to lead the small group.
Three other teenagers, two boys and a girl, followed close behind. Shelley was not very close with any of them, although she did see them often at school. Charlotte didn't seem to like them much either, but she did like the attention they gave her. The other girl was short, with green eyes, a black bob, and painfully crooked teeth. The two boys were both tall, one of them towering over the other. Both had dark eyes and sandy blond hair.
The group moved cautiously through the sand, and still a pair of police associates riding mountain bikes from the opposing direction caught them off-guard. A loud whistle caused the group to stop where they were, and the police associates rolled to a stop beside them.
"ID cards!" one of the associates barked, and the kids scrambled to find their cards.
Shelley found her ID card and handed it to the police associate. "We're just headed to the beach."
"You know beach property is closed after sunset?" the officer asked while scanning Shelley's card in a small, hand-held computer. He glanced at the sun, which now barely hovered over the mountains.
Shelley nodded.
With his computer showing no warrants on Shelley, the police associate handed her card back to her. "Don't let me catch you out here after hours."
Shelley pocketed the ID. "You won't."
"There is a new shantytown of deviants living in the district right above us," the police associate continued. "There have been reports that they're spreading down closer to us, even roaming our beaches at night. You don't want to get mugged, do you?"
Shelley shook her head.
The officers checked the rest of the group's ID cards and then, after giving the group one last warning about the deviants and beach policies, they continued on their way.
There was a biting chill to the windy beach air, and yet everyone in the group abandoned their shoes as they approached the soft, fine sand. Shelley looked around. "I don't know if this was such a good idea," she said, noticing a new front of clouds prematurely darkening the horizon.
"We must be a little early," Charlotte said, looking unsure of what else to say. All eyes were suddenly on her. She cleared her throat, getting visibly nervous. "They'll be here."
Shelley felt herself grow increasingly nervous as the minutes passed. She had never met Charlotte's new friends, but she knew some of their reputations. They had a steady source of bootleg liquor, however, and Shelley's curiosity over the intoxicant temporarily outweighed all reason in her decision-making skills. Still, she knew she was there to break the law, and she knew the potential repercussions. She gave an impatient huff. "They're not coming. We should get out of here."
"They'll be here," Charlotte insisted.
Shelley crossed her arms. "I really think—"
She fell silent as the sound of fuel-powered motors swept in from the distance.
Everyone watched in silence as a dust cloud from the north slowly grew to become three sand-cruisers. The loud and clumsy machines carried three young men in their late teens to early twenties swiftly across the beach. The motors were loud and smelly, putting out huge amounts of exhaust, and the propulsion systems polluted the air with the jets of sand the vehicles left in their wake. They had been outlawed after the automotive unit for Transportation-Corp was shut down, and so their use clearly defined their riders as outlaws. In patches where the sand was dry, the sand-cruisers kicked up tall clouds of dust, giving the appearance of smoke plumes from a shoreline fire.
The three young men came to a halt in front of the group and turned off their engines.
"Change of plans. We're meeting in District 89148 tonight. Hop on," one of them said. He patted the back seat of his sand-cruiser. He had multiple piercings and visible tattoos, and his hair was multiple shades of red and orange.
"Where are we going?" Shelley asked, afraid to move.
"To a party," the young man said with a chilling smile. "There'll be plenty of cigarettes and alcohol, and maybe even some food."
Charlotte sprang over to the vehicle and sat down behind the young man. The rest of the group looked among one another, not sure what to do. The girl and the taller of the boys joined Charlotte and her friends, but Shelley and the second boy remained uncertain.
"You're not going to chicken out now, are you?" Charlotte asked as the group started their engines.
"I'm cold . . . and it's getting dark," Shelley said, backing from the sand cruisers.
"Suit yourself," the young man said. Whipping up a six-foot arc of sand at Shelley, he spun the vehicle around and then took off, returning to the north. The two other drivers followed suit, and soon the three were nothing but a hum and a low haze vanishing in the distance.
Shelley and her companion stared off into the horizon until there was nothing left to see, and then they turned one another, dazed.
And what of Charlotte?
"We should start walking," Shelley said.
At her prompt, the two began their long trek back to the shuttle garage.
In what felt like a vindictive act of God, it began to rain. It came just a few drops at a time at first, but within just a few minutes, the two hiked through heavy sheets of water. The rain quickly grew cold and relentless, and visibility went to nothing.
Water began to pool all over the muddy ground, and as the two sloshed through it, their clothes grew filthy and ragged. Their bare feet became cold and raw. Still, they continued on, having no nearby shelter in which to wait out the storm. Dark clouds blanketed the sky, and lightning began to crash far off in the north.