Page 6 of Across the Crimson Sands

Across the pond, a large bird settled at the water’s edge to drink. I watched it, wondering if it tasted anything like the Blue-Tipped Sea Tresk. On rare occasions, when Gorin was feeling particularly magnanimous, he’d allow me to suck the scraps of meat from the bones of his meals.

Pushing the memory aside, I reluctantly allowed myself one small bite of a ration bar. I had no hope of catching that bird, and I didn’t have the strength or time for a fruitless chase.

With a heavy sigh, I stowed my meager provisions, filled my canteen with fresh water, and bid a silent farewell to this tiny paradise amidst the sea of death.

Feeling somewhat refreshed, I picked up my pace.

I came upon a vast scree field and sighed in frustration. It was too large to circumvent – I’d have to cut straight through and hope the boulders were stable enough to support my weight. I watched as small lizards and desert birds scampered nimbly across the treacherous surface, their antics a welcome distraction.

And then, in my peripheral vision, I saw it again. The shadow. Far in the distance, but unmistakable. I squinted against the sun’s glare, the heat making the air shimmer and dance deceptively.

It stood unnaturally still, like a lone tree in this barren wasteland.

Shaking my head to clear it, I knew dwelling on explanations would only waste precious time. I needed to move. Cautiously, I began picking my way from one boulder to the next, gingerly edging over smaller, less stable rocks. The expanse seemed endless, and my careful progress felt agonizingly slow.

“Pick it up, Arilee,” I hissed through gritted teeth. Throwing caution aside, I started hopping between the larger boulders, bypassing the treacherous smaller stones entirely.

I was managing well enough, only slightly off-balance on each landing. Until I saw it again. This time, a blur of movement. I jerked my head instinctively to track it and lost my footing. God, I was so stupid.

I tumbled into a pile of jagged rocks, fresh scrapes blooming on my palms and reopening the barely-healed wounds on my knees. Pain flared white hot across my vision but I held in the scream, acutely aware that whatever – or whoever – was out there might be listening, waiting for the slightest sound to reveal my location.

For what felt like hours, I crawled across the unforgiving terrain, keeping my profile low. Every few feet, I’d risk a quick glance upward, desperately seeking either reassurance of safety or confirmation of my own sanity. At this point, I’d settle for either.

Finally, I reached the rim of the scree field and found myself on more stable ground. No more endless dunes or treacherous rocks. Instead, I was surrounded by a series of hills with steep, red-hued sides and flat tops.

And there, perched atop one of those hills, I saw it again.

Dark. Large. Undeniably a sapient being. Two arms, a torso. Two legs. And it was coming towards me.

“No,” I whispered, then took off running. I had no destination in mind, only the primal need to put distance between myself and that ominous figure. I sprinted towards one of the hills, circling around to break its line of sight. That’s when I spotted a small chasm in the rock face, barely wide enough for me to squeeze through.

Without hesitation, I wedged myself into the crevice, straining my ears for any sounds of my pursuer. No heavy footsteps. No ragged breathing. Nothing to indicate my shadowy stalker had followed.

Instead, a massive four-legged amphibian scaled down the wall of my hiding place, shoving its face mere inches from mine. It hissed, rows of needle-sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light. I stumbled backward in shock, only to hear a sickening crack beneath my foot. Too late, I realized I’d taken refuge in the creature’s nest – and just crushed one of its eggs.

The enraged mother lunged forward, snapping at me with bone-crushing jaws. I scrambled out of the chasm and back into the open, the lizard in hot pursuit. My mysterious shadow forgotten, my sole focus became outrunning this maternal fury.

My legs burned with exhaustion, lungs heaving as I pushed myself to my limit. The next hill loomed ahead, its face rougher and more jagged. Without slowing, I grabbed onto protruding rocks and hauled myself upward. The lizard crouched, muscles bunching as it prepared to leap and snap at my dangling legs.

Something whizzed past my ear with a high-pitched whistle, burying itself in the lizard’s skull with a wet thud. Not an insect. A bullet.

“Shit!” I dropped back to the ground, frantically scanning every direction for the source of the shot. Finding nothing, I bit back the urge to scream, to demand that my tormentor show themselves. If they were going to kill me, why draw it out?

But the primal need to survive, to taste true freedom even if only for a fleeting moment, overrode my despair. I abandoned my frantic sprint and began moving with exaggerated caution. Inch by agonizing inch, I edged around the cliff face, hyper-aware of my surroundings.

As the adrenaline haze began to clear, I considered the nature of my pursuer. The realization hit me – if they’d wanted me dead, that bullet would have found my skull, not the lizard’s. They had gone out of their way to save me. But why?

If their goal was something they could simply take by force, surely they would have done so by now. Unless... unless dragging the hunt out longer was their purpose.

I shuddered. The world was filled with sick bastards.

I pressed onward, hugging the sides of the hill formations for what meager cover they provided. For a blissful moment, I dared to hope I’d actually lost my pursuer. I could almost imagine I saw the glimmer of civilization on the distant horizon.

Then I reached the edge of a cliff. The drop was sheer, impossibly steep. I sighed, wondering if I could find a safer path further west. I turned around –

And there he was. My shadow made flesh.

I didn’t scream. There was no point.

---