Page 8 of Calico Descending

Halting, I turn around and find her clutching her stomach. “If you rest, you’ll never get up again.” I double back, until standing alongside her bent form, and slide her arm behind my neck, helping her straighten. The added weight will not only slow me down, but will burn through whatever energy is left in me. The alternative is waiting to pass out here and waking to Ragers feasting on the two of us.

We have to keep moving.

“Do you see the mountains up ahead, Bryani?”

“Yes.”

“We only need to make it there. We’ll take shelter in the rocks.”

“I feel so dizzy … and my stomach is … sick.”

“You’re dehydrated and exhausted. I promise, I’ll look for water. Just a bit more walking.”

A lazy nod, and she pushes forward, taking me along with her. “Just a bit more.”

By the time we reach the mountains, the sun is hidden on the other side of it, offering some relief. The cool shade is a balm to my burned skin as I pull Bryani up onto the jagged rocks. One by one, we climb higher, until we’re maybe twenty feet off the ground. It’s at this height, I find a crook in the rock, where I set her down to rest. She needs water. We both need water soon.

“I’ll be back. Stay hidden here.”

She nods and rests her head against the wall of stone beside her, drawing in long, labored breaths. Sometimes, dew or rain collects in small pools on these mountains, especially in the shade. It’s not typically enough to sate our thirst, but will certainly give some measure of relief. Climbing higher will give me a better lay of the land, and perhaps I can scope out a nearby hive.

The mountains give way to a flat clearing of a small canyon within, and my eyes zero in on a plant. Where there’s vegetation, there’s water. I rush toward the small patch of prickly pears, my heart soaring inside my chest. I did it. I found food. If my mother were here, she’d give me a prideful smile and tell me I possessed the instincts of my father, who always managed to forage food for us.

Inside the satchel is a pack of matches. The same matches we used to set fire to the building across from us, in order to distract the Ragers the night before. Careful to avoid the needles on the pad of the cactus, I strike the match and hold it to the fruit, singeing away the glochids. Back at our hive, we carried special gloves, made of animal hide, to rub away thorns, but in our panic to get ahead of the horde, we didn’t think to grab a pair.

More vegetation catches my eye, and about ten yards away is a bigger patch of the cactus fruit. I scramble toward it, singeing away the needles, and pull my knife to cut them off, stuffing the fruit inside my sack.

Another object floats in my periphery, and turning my head brings me staring back at what must surely be a mirage. Beneath a low hanging rock, shrouded in shade, stands a small tinaja filled with water. My hands tremble as I tug my canteen from my satchel and scamper across the rock to the edge of the pool. Water bubbles around the canteen as I fill it, and when I sip the cool fluids, they practically sizzle on hitting the dryness in my throat. I choke and spit water from drinking it too fast, but I fill it again and guzzle the fluids once more.

A crackling sound stiffens my muscles. I look past the pool toward the walls of the mountain. Could be a critter.

Or a wildcat.

Not likely a Rager this high up.

With urgency, I fill the canteen a third time, eyes scanning my surroundings, and hustle back down the rock to where Bryani still lies propped. Passed out, I guess, since she doesn’t move or wake at my approach. Trickling water over her dry, cracked lips, I rouse her awake, and her eyes nearly popping out of her head, she reaches for the canteen, greedily sucking the fluids down. She pauses to take a breath, and drinks more.

From my satchel, I grab the fruit and slice it in half, offering a piece to Bryani. We pop the fruit from it’s thick peel and shove it into our mouths. The sweet taste explodes against my tongue, and I tip my head back, closing my eyes while I savor it, then spit out the seeds. Nabbing a second fruit, I split it open, sharing it with Bryani again, who giggles at what I presume are purple stains on my teeth, as hers are stained, too.

After five fruits, the hunger from before no longer gnaws at my stomach. “We’ll pack more to take with us and fill our canteens.”

“Why don’t we just stay here?”

I look past her, scanning the rocks. “I heard a noise on the other side. Could be a wildcat.” Though, I’m guessing a large cat would’ve sniffed us out by now. Probably just a small critter. Still, I can’t help the feeling that something is watching us, and with the sun not yet horizontal in the sky, we have time to find shelter.

Bryani pushes up on her own, and seems to stumble less as she follows me up the rock to where I found the tinaja. She races toward the pool of water with all three canteens clanging at her side, including the one we took from mother’s pack, and fills them up. Still keeping my focus on the surroundings, I burn needles and pack a few more prickly pears.

When something hits the back of my neck, I freeze, letting out a whoosh of air I’m certain Bryani won’t hear over her giggling and splashing in the water.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” The sound of a man’s voice in the thick of the desert is about as terrifying as hearing the clicking sounds Ragers make when they’re excited. It’s a warning that something bad is going to happen.

Bryani’s scream snaps my attention toward the tinaja, where another man points a gun at her.

“Please. Don’t hurt her. You can take me. Do whatever you want, but please don’t touch her.”

“Take you? Already got a woman. A real woman, with some meat on her bones. The hell would I want with you?”

Confusion hits me, rendering me momentarily speechless. I’ve been taught that every man who stumbles upon a young girl in the desert is a potential threat.

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