The jeep tore across the open desert, the walls of New Broome just a faint line on the horizon. Valorine was like a demon behind the wheel. There were a few times when he was worried they were going to crash, the violent bumps making his skeleton jolt, but they never did. The only other sound apart from the roaring engine was Valorine and Percy’s muffled conversation, but he was too far away to make sense of it.

Clutching on for dear life, the jeep shuddering as it went over another rock, he almost slammed his head into the pole he was holding. Looking at the other passengers, everyone was having a similar ride. The woman with glasses was sitting next to him, and flashed him a weary smile, as the jeep jolted once more.

After a harrowing ride through the wastes, Valorie pumped the brakes and skidded to a stop. Unprepared, everyone was sent crashing into each other. “Sorry,” Caspian said to the woman, her glasses sitting crooked on her face.

“It’s ok,” she said quietly. As she was about to say something more, Valorie spun around and started talking.

“We’re around 30km out now, so I’m just going to drop one of you off every few km,” she said. “New Broomes due east from here.” Pointing at him, she grinned. “Caspian you’re off first. Best a luck.”

Jumping off, his feet sank into the sand, the bag hanging off one shoulder. Percy peered at him with a warm smile. “Good luck kid,” he said. A few of the others gave him a solitary nod, as Valorie stomped down on the accelerator, waves of sand spewing up as the jeep sped off at an angle.

Watching them grow into a dot in the distance, he sucked in a breath. He was now standing alone in the desert. Stretching out his sore body, he started laughing to himself. “It’s good to be back,” he said, taking in his surroundings. The air tasted clean, its earthy aroma bringing back good memories.

Crouching down he opened his bag, removing one of the water bottles and the compass. Taking a small swig to wet his mouth, he stashed the bottle away, sliding his satchel into the large bag as well. “East she said,” he thought, watching the compass orient itself, eventually pointing north. Looking east, he strained his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of New Broome to no avail. Shrugging he shouldered the bag on his shoulders making sure it was secure, adjusting his scarf to protect his head as well.

“LET’S GET GOING!” he shouted as he began the first part of his 30km journey. Marching forward, he already felt the heat affect him. Drops of sweat were already starting to form. Whipping his brow, he looked up at the sun. Shielding his eyes from the molten orb, he judged it almost noon. The hottest part of the day was fast approaching. Reaching into his bag for another sip of water, he searched the horizon for somewhere to take shelter. Getting out of the sun was his highest priority now.

He didn’t know if it was by design, but the trial seemed littered with pitfalls and traps. Ordinarily, walking 30km wouldn’t take that long, maybe 12 hours with appropriate breaks if you were fit enough. Well under the time limit they’d been given. But that’s where the first trap was. It was a fool's errand to traverse a desert during the middle of the day, the chance of heat stroke and dehydration incredibly high. Instead, seeking shelter to wait it out was the smart move.

Moving slowly, Caspian kept his eyes peeled for anywhere to hole up. “Come on come on. Give me an overhang, give me something,” he muttered as he walked. Buckets of sweat were pouring out of him, his face feeling flushed. Making sure to remain hydrated, he regularly would check his compass, making sure he was still heading in the correct direction.

Time seemed to move at a snail's pace, a trail of footprints stretching far behind him. Sand had managed to worm into his boots, but he tried to ignore the discomfort. Already a third of the way through one of his water bottles, he was getting more desperate for shelter. The neverending dunes seemed to mock his efforts, each time he managed to reach the top, the next seemed even higher.

After cresting the most recent summit, he shielded his eyes, something catching his eye in the distance. Squinting in the harsh light, he spotted salvation. A lone rock formation rose from the sea of sand, the scarlet stones in stark contrast to the endless yellow.

“Thank god,” he muttered, descending the dune. Going too quick, his foot sunk into the sand, it beginning to collapse under his weight. Throwing out his arms to try and catch himself, the dune shifted, dragging him as it cascaded down. The scalding hot sand grated against his skin, burning his flesh. Scrambling to get up, sand flew off of him as he desperately tried to shake it all off. His hands feeling like they’d been dipped in fire, he quickly grabbed one of his water bottles, his fingers fumbling with the lid.

Undoing it, he tried to pour a little on his hands, desperate to avoid burns. The vital fluid flowed out slowly, relief filling his mind as the cool liquid covered his hands. He couldn’t use much, hoping they wouldn’t end up too bad. They’d only touched the sand for a short moment, burning himself so soon would be a bad start. Reaching for the bottle absently, his hand knocked into it, toppling it over.

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“NOOO!” he shouted, scooping it up as fast as he could. Looking down, he watched as the desert hungrily drank up the water, quickly disappearing below the sands as if it had never been there. Holding the bottle up, it was now under a third full.

Disappointment filled him, as he chided himself. “What’s wrong with me,” he muttered. “Get it together Cas, this is no time for rookie mistakes.” Shaking his head, he examined his hands, red patches already starting to form. Grimacing, he tried to put the pain out of his mind. “Need to get to those rocks,” he said rising from the sand.

Carefully he climbed the next dune, orienting himself towards the formation. Up and down he went, the rocks slowly getting closer. Before long they towered above him, easily triple his height. The deep scarlet rock seemed like a beacon in the desert, and as he walked around them looking for a place to rest, he marvelled at how cracked and smooth they were.

Rounding the corner, he spotted a small cave halfway up the rock face. Trying to find a route up, he flexed his hands, hoping they could handle the climb. Outcrops and handholds seemed to snake their way up, and he felt confident that he could make it up easily.

Caspian tightened the bag on his bag, ensuring it couldn’t move around at all. Testing the first foothold, he put his full weight on it, and when it held fast, grabbed hold with both hands. The pain was bearable, so he continued, making sure to test the holds before he moved on. In under a minute, a hand reached up into the small cave, followed by Caspian’s sandy blond head. Heaving himself over the side, he realised the cave went much further back than he thought.

“Not bad,” he thought setting his bag down. Examining his hands again, he realised they had gotten worse, torn blisters on his hands. The red had grown slightly as well, almost encompassing his palms. Poking it, he let out a yelp. His fingers seemed to have escaped unscathed luckily.

Rummaging through the bag, he started to take everything out, spreading the tarp of the ground to give him a spot to work. Spreading out his belongings, he took another sip of water, the bottle almost empty now. Checking to make sure the other two were both secure, he examined the food. Percy had given him three MREs, as well as some sort of trail mix.

“Let's see what we have here. Grilled camel and beans, meatballs, and Camel loaf,” he read out loud. Camel was the staple meat in New Broome, as it was their main livestock animal. It tasted good, if a little dense and rich. The best camel dishes were stews or roasts, something that cooked the meat slowly over a long time. One time he’d gotten to try chicken during a party an overseer threw. The juicy white meat had been on his mind for weeks afterwards.

Having skipped breakfast, following it up with physical activity, he was feeling quite hungry. His stomach grumbled at the thought of food, demanding to be fed. Deciding to go with the meatballs, he put the other two away. Positioning the sleeping bag against the cave wall as a makeshift cushion as he made himself comfortable, opening the MRE. The scent of meat filled his little cave. Using the spoon that came with it, he had a mouthful.

Caspian frowned as he slowly chewed and swallowed. The sauce on the meatballs had a weird taste to it, with an almost sour aftertaste. Worried it might be off, he gave it a smell, but it didn’t smell bad. “Great,” he muttered, having another bite. It tasted much the same as the first one, causing him to sigh. He didn’t have much of a choice though, so he continued eating.

Looking out while he ate, the blazing sun shining down on the desert, he couldn’t help but be awed. From his vantage point, it looked like a sea of endless dunes, sand occasionally spraying off of the top. The desert almost looked featureless. When he had first experienced it, the sheer emptiness had shocked him. Vast fields of nothing, the odd rock formation breaking it up. It hadn’t always looked this way though.

Abe would always tell him tales from before the cataclysm, of the cities and lives had people led. Of forest and jungles, of grasslands and the outback. Gazing upon the desert, he could hardly fathom it, endless amounts of water as far as the eye could see, so much that they’d never have to worry about water allocations.

Melancholy started to take hold, his mind on the past. He didn’t remember much from the before times. He’d been too young. Blurry images of people that he knew to be his parents, their faces absent. He’d lost them on that day when everything was destroyed. Everyone had. To this day he’d never met someone who the reaper hadn’t visited.

The first few years had been horrible, constantly moving from place to place trying to eak out an existence. Hunger and thirst constant companions. “It’s better now though,” he consoled himself. Slowly but surely they were carving a foothold for themselves. Soon he’d be a part of that. Explorers were vital for progress, bringing back lost technologies that could reverse engineer, and finding the locations of valuable resources.

Never once had he doubted his dream. To be an explorer was to risk your life for the benefit of others, on the front lines of humanity. He would matter soon. “Just have to finish this trial,” he thought, opening another bottle of water. Taking a swig, he made sure to limit himself.

Laying on his back, he checked the time. It was currently 12:42. “I’ll rest until 4,” he decided, placing the watch beside his head. “Travelling by night will be easier. It doesn’t get too cold, so as long as I make sure to go the right way, it’ll all be golden,” he thought.

Having formed some concrete plans, he closed his eyes and made himself comfortable. A little more sleep couldn’t hurt. Relaxing, he let his mind drift, eventually falling asleep in the cool shade of his cave.