They had made it.
Relatively.
They had finally found shelter and water, two of the most important things in a desert and they had found it. Or Isaac had really. Malika took another look at the two despondent figures laid out in sleeping bags, both still shaking like a leaf
The sun had risen along their journey but as they continued, Isaac only seemed to get worse, as the air got warmer, he seemed to get colder. They were all tired by the time the sun had risen but Isaac had seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness, his feet dragging along behind him at some points. Then to make matters worse his breath had come in shorter and he had taken to scratching at his skin with vehemence. At first lightly and only on places where it looked like perhaps some of the lizard gore had stuck to him. Then as time progressed it seemed to spread in area as well as intensity, almost to the point she suspected he would soon draw blood. She would have asked Akhil earlier about it except that he as almost in the same shape as Isaac was. Eyes sunken, shivering even under the first rays of the Sahara sun and idly scratching at his cheek.
Then out of the blue Isaac had started laughing maniacally, stood up straight, and eyed a tree on the other side of the canyon. It was dead and withered but still stood above a rather thick patch of the high grass that had started showing up sporadically. Uncertain as to what to expect, she had maintained a grip on him as his quiet mumblings turned to shouting. Before she could react he had taken off, sprinting before collapsing into the grass. By the time they had made it over there he was already passed out in front of their current location: a large pool of water hidden by the grass with a cave behind a dead tree.
It wasn’t until they were in the cave that she realized how truly dire their situation had been. She had just finished emptying the rather impressive contents of the duffel bag when the pained whimpers of Akhil reached her ears. Sitting in a corner in the cave he had sat upright scratching all over his body, blubbering something about ants. She had come over to ask what was wrong but before she could make a move he had already hopped up and rushed into the pool outside. Startled, she had rushed out only to find his still form in the water. Dragging him out and performing a frantic CPR session had gotten him breathing again. It was enough to ease her panic but not her worry. Stripping him of most of his wet clothes (she left him his dignity), she had put the two into the sleeping bags and set about taking inventory.
That had been an hour ago and as the sun climbed higher she realized just how cold she was. She felt that strange considering that she could see the heat wafting up off the sand outside in the canyon. Shaking off her feelings of unease she set back to task, attempting to set up the small tent inside the cave and staving off this seemingly unnatural chill. She had already confirmed that they had approximately a liter of clean water left, several packets of dried food as wells several freeze-dried meals, clothes, a collapsible shovel, minor hygiene supplies, fire-starter, a small tent, tarp, a wool blanket, two sleeping bags, and the list went on. Some of the things she couldn’t really identify with her limited knowledge. She just hoped she could stay alive until the other two woke up and got better. She didn’t know how to help them. The most she could do was light a fire to warm them and herself up and maybe set up the tent.
Finally figuring out the method of spreading out the poles, she finished the tent. Opening it up she dragged the two prone forms inside, set up the tarp on the front of the cave and climbed inside the tent herself. Closing it shut she poured more water into the mouths of the two men ever so slowly while reaching up to scratch her neck in attempt to get rid of an itch that seemingly didn’t want to leave. Tired and exhausted she grabbed the blanket and tried to sleep herself, only to have the infernal itching slowly ratchet up in intensity. Climbing out she got up and stumbled into the shallow pool outside and tried to wash herself in vain. Freezing and itching she dried off and climbed back into the tent and curled up into a ball seeking some respite. Crazed and manic, shivering and shaking from the sensations crashing through her body in waves, she struggled to hold onto any semblance to sanity.
At the peak of her suffering though the itching fell away abruptly. Dazed, cold, and bone-weary, she moved as close as she could to the source that seemed to push away the prickle on her skin. Coming as close as she could she surrendered herself gratefully to unconsciousness.
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“Jessica!”
“Malika!”
Running up to her friend, the pair wrapped each other up in a hug.
“Malika! How was the trip over? With how late your plane was they didn’t have to refuel half-way over to compensate for your big tush did they?”
“Haha, it’s good to see you too. I actually don’t know. Something about technical difficulties on the way over or something, I was honestly asleep through the entire thing. But if you want to hear this crazy nightmare I had about-”
“Alright, alright, shut up before you bore me to tears, we’ll have to stop by the hotel after the tour to drop of your luggage.”
Loading up her suitcase, she hopped into the passenger seat beside her best friend. They hadn’t seen each other in almost two years since Jessica had joined the Peace Corps. It was only through good fortune that Jessica was returning home at the same time as Malika finished her internship in Saudi Arabia and they had made plans well over a year ago. Plans that got canceled though she couldn’t remember why. Well, it didn’t matter she was here and their week in Casablanca was to be a time of much needed relaxation and fun. Starting with a quick tour of the city to get them acquainted with the city. Buckling her seatbelt, she brushed her hands against one another, knocking off the sand that seemed to cling to everything.
Pulling up, they both get out and headed to the ticket booth with only 5 minutes to spare.
“Malika?”
Turning around as Jessica picked up their tickets, she found herself in front of a woman she had not seen in years. Or was it yesterday? Brushing aside those questions she reached over and pulled her mother into a warm embrace.
“Mom! It’s so good to see you! We thought you’d never make it!”
“C’mon it’s only 10 minutes before the Savanna tour starts.”
“Hey, ya twat, what’s holding-“
Pulling away from my mother I brush off the clinging sand from her and turns on her friend with a strained smile, “Jessica! This is my mother, remember?”
Shaking with mirth, her mother gave them both a bright smile, making her seem to outshine the world around her.
“It’s perfectly fine dear. It’s just so nice to finally meet your friend.”
“Ah, um yes. Indeed.” Now looking distinctly uncomfortable Jessica simply does an about face and stiffly walks off to the tour bus with the other two closes behind her.
Loading up onto the bus the driver starts up the engine and a woman climbs up into the cabin with a microphone in hand looking like the happiest person in the world.
“Good morning everyone! Welcome to the Savanna tour group! My name is Nadia, and I’ll be your tour guide today! Just a little heads up we will be stopping for lunch to meet up with a partner group in a village. Alright let’s roll out!”
As the bus starts moving, the wind picks up outside the window dusting the surroundings in a thin layer of sand.
…
“If you’ll look out to your left you can see an ostrich about to be eaten by a llama, quite the chase.” The all-too-cheerful guide says while gesturing out the window. “Alright everyone, we have arrived at the village and if you would just follow me we can go eat lunch!”
I stand up and stretch my legs from sitting for 4 hours, no wasn't it 5 minutes? The Savanna was beautiful and a wonder, but there just seemed to be an edge to it she couldn’t described. It called out to her but not in the way she found pleasing.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“Hey, quit pussy-footing around and keep up.” Jessica turned around with a grin. It hadn’t taken long for Jessica to relax around mother. It had only taken some good-natured teasing from her mother to break the ice and before long they were throwing quips back and forth. Shaking her head, she cast aside her ruminations and moved to catch up with the group. Coming up on the center of a small village she found the guide and a similarly dressed man handing out bags. Coming up she reached forward to grab her food only to have a small child jump ahead of her.
“Hey, hey mister! Don’t I know you?”
An older man stood before her now with eyes of the darkest black she had ever seen, as if the pupil had expanded to take up the entire eye and then collapsed on itself. He was standing where the woman had been handing onto the bagged lunch she had just been about to reach for.
“No, and I don’t believe this is your food line.” The man spoke in a cheerfully femine, yet at the same time a strained masculine, voice that seems at odds with his stoic figure, almost as if the man and the woman were having troubles coinciding with one another.
“Liar! I know when people lie and you can’t fool me!” The boy retorted. His voice, with his light brown hair striking a memory in her. One she couldn’t quite pull up. “You’re Dream!” At this the man’s eye twitched and he seemed to be barely keeping a lid on his annoyance at the name.
“Son, quit bothering the poor woman, just grab your grub and come eat.” A tall man stands off to the side with a woman, having picked up on the other man’s (wait woman's?), irritation. “I haven’t gotten enough to eat for this to qualify as a Thanksgiving vacation.”
“Yes, sir.” The youth grabbed his lunch and hurried off but a feeling of unease built within her. Where was she? Wasn’t she supposed to be in Casablanca? No, but neither was Jessica. And why did everyone look so… dull. It seemed that aside from the people she spoke to everyone else on this weird trip was bland, almost cookie cutter, but that didn’t make sense. And her mother. When was the last time she had seen her this happy? No none of-
“What lunch would you prefer?” The super cheerful, albeit now slightly forced, woman in front of her brings her attention back to the important things. It was lunchtime and she WAS hungry. “We have vegetarian, chicken, or beef.”
“I’ll take beef please.” Grabbing the sack, she looked inside and found plenty of food for lunch. Perhaps too much for even her ravenous appetite.
“Oh, and just so you know I think your companions went to go chat with the passengers of the other tour.”
“Oh, ok thank you!” Moving off she quickly spotted a large gathering of people. A quick search turned up Jessica and her Mother, talking to a man with his back to her. Coming up on the group she gasped in shock.
“Hello daughter. How was the internship?” Her father asked with a dashing smile. Sitting down in the impromptu circle she simply nodded her head, gathering her words. It had been so long since she last saw him. Now that he was here they could be a family again like she remembered. Sure, her parents had a rough patch but now they were here and happy.
Finding her words, she replied, happy to share, “It was good and went really well. They have a lot of funds for their projects and I’ve basically been guaranteed a job after I get my MBA.” Deciding her course of action she figured she would go out and catch up with Jessica while her parents worked things out. After all she and Jess had so much to catch up on. Why hadn’t she seen her more often?
As she finished those thoughts a strong gust of wind blew through and around everything. The world around her seemed to obscure and erode. Sputtering out the grit she wiped her sand-crusted eyes and watches as the wind blew the sand from the three figures around her.
The woman, Debra, is her name, remained where her mother sat. Sad and beaten down by life, only a husk remains of what was once her mother. I see this woman often, but I haven’t seen my mother in years.
“Jinan! Come! We we’re just leaving this filthy Kafir.” Standing up the man who was once my father calls for his new wife and walks away his face twisted in a twisted in scorn. Looking my way, his eyes harden further, “Daughter, you will come with me and leave that stupid cow like I told you to before. Come, this is for your own good for you have strayed from Allah.”
No this isn’t what was supposed to happen, not at all. Why did she ever think they could get back together? These people were not them, her parents had left her many years ago.
“Jess, c’mon, why don’t-“
“My name is Sarah, dear. I swear, I know we just met, but could you at least try?”
Looking over where Jessica sat a different woman about my age sits there, a chicken sandwich in hand.
Of course, Jessica’s not here, she died 9 months ago. I went to her funeral. Why would I think she was Jess?
Leaving her lunch, she jogged back to the bus, seeking escape from this nightmare. As she sat in her seat, she found everyone else already aboard with Debra sitting across the aisle. The guide in her mockingly joyful tone announced that the second half of the tour was beginning. Not trusting herself to keep calm she looked away from Debra’s lifeless eyes and gazed out the window. As the wind picked up outside the dust and sand slowly obscured everything.
Closing her eyes, she can feel the sand and wind slide across her skin, her face, her very being. It sought to erode who she was, scrape away what she could be, layer by layer. It sought to make her hollow like her mother. It sought to erode the good in her like her father. It sought to take all, to claim all for the barren wastelands of the desert. Malika fought and resisted. She trudged through the sandstorm unyielding.
Then she realized the truth. The sand didn’t seek to take, no it simply exposed. It would tear away what was there and expose what lay underneath. It wouldn’t change her, just as her parents never truly changed. The sand washed over them and found they didn’t like what was exposed. And even what the sand did claim, it never really changed. It just became smaller pieces. She stopped fighting the sand. She knew who she was. It could expose it all. She would never truly change. She laid herself bare before the wind and dust, felt it expose and strip away. Then when time wore on and it took her piece by piece she didn’t seek to slow it down and preserve herself. No, instead she embraced it and welcomed it, for like her, the dunes would be eternal. She would shift from day to day, business meetings would be different from relaxing with friends, just as from day to day the winds shaped and sculpted the dunes. But when the sun rose the next day, she would still be herself, just as the dunes would be there.
She stood there, another dune in the desert.
Eternal.
Opening her eyes, she sat in a restaurant in Casablanca. Across from her, were her parents, united once more, and beside her sat Jessica, happily eating the appetizers as if it were her last meal. The tour guide, no, their waitress came by and dropped off their meals but not before turning to Jessica and giving her a sad smile.
“I sincerely wish you good fortune and hope you enjoy the rest of your dream.”
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A Headache.
I seriously need to stop waking up like this. You know it’s bad when you’re hoping that it’s a Hangover. I have a feeling that hope will be dispelled as soon as I open my eyes though. At least I feel relaxed. Sort of. I mean, my muscles still ache, I’m still cold, so probably fever, I have a headache, and I’m so dehydrated my throat feels like sandpaper, so yeah. I’m fine. At least I’m not itching, there’s that.
Huh.
There’s something on my chest though. I suppose that’s worth a look considering how painful that is to my ribs.
Oh. She looks so comfortable. I wish I felt that comfortable. Why is she even laying on my chest to begin with though? I feel like it would be a crime to move her though. Well, guess it’s a good thing a criminal is what I am.
Oh, that is sooooo much better.
What’s this? She looks like she’s uncomfortable now and she doesn’t even have a sleeping bag? But those worries are for guys with a conscious and my spot is oh so warm and comfy.
Shit. I guess I do still have a conscious.
After moving her inside my sleeping bag and grabbing some extra clothes to help sweat through this fever I glance give her some water before scooching over to Akhil. Here I pause though. He just seems… off. I mean yeah, he’s looking pretty pale and there’s that awful rash all over his face, and his breathing is pretty shal- oh. I don’t think he’s breathing. That’s not good. Check his pulse and… pull my hand back.
No need for a pulse, he’s dead. His body is cold, and not like I’ve been in the walk-in freezer too long. Extra sleeping bag now I guess?
Nope, I still don’t feel better about this. He seemed like one of the few legitamately good-natured people left in this world. Doctor down and two patients sick. Why does nothing go right when I wake up?
At least I packed a shovel.
Moving the body out I decide that burying a dead body is:
1. Going to take a long time to do when you have broken ribs and a mangled foot
2. Not a good idea to do near where you get clean drinking water and
3. An absolute necessary thing to do thanks to giant man-eating reptiles
So after filtering out some water to refill the canteens, eating some of the food, and dragging Akhil’s body a good solid 100 meters away from the cave I set about to digging a grave for Akhil with my little collapsible shovel that was originally meant more for easing the discomfort of shitting outdoors. Luckily the sun isn’t very high in the sky and the canyon is mostly shade. I just hope I can dig it deep enough before nightfall. I plan on a deep hole though, the last thing Akhil deserves is to become Lizard chow.
It takes me until nightfall before I’m standing in a hole as deep as I am tall. I would dig it deeper but I can’t at the moment. Not without a way to keep the sand steady and not collapsing on me, as well as a second man to help move dirt and get me out when we’re done. Dropping his body into the hole I hurriedly fill in the hole as the temperature drops faster than your grandma’s tits without a bra. Sticking the shovel in the dirt, to mark his grave I shuffle back to the cave, working more with memory and feel than sight in the lightless gorge. Tomorrow I'll find something to work as a grave marker.
Once I get back I scrounge around until I find a flashlight. Further searching has me spraying down the sleeping bag with disinfectant. Perhaps too much seeing as I’m now letting it air out. A quick meal of protein bars and water has me feeling better. It seems that the last of whatever illness that was is fading. Ducking into the tent I pour some more water down Malika’s throat and discover a massive amount of white sand all over her. Odd. Don’t remember that from before. Curling up my sleeping bag I decide it’s a mystery to be filed under procrastination, seeing that the headache from before is turning into a full-on migraine. I’m sure tomorrow’s me will figure it out.