Page 18 of Rok's Captive
We’re all sort of…stretched thin.
As the sun disappears and the three moons appear (that’s right. Three), we retreat inside for the night. The temperature drops surprisingly quickly once darkness falls—another unpleasant discovery from our first night here.
“God, I’m bored to the tits,” I mutter as we arrange ourselves in what has become our assigned sleeping spots. It’s cramped and there’s hardly any place to sit.
“I’ve been counting grains of sand to fall asleep,” someone else whispers.
“I’ve been mentally redecorating my apartment,” Pam says. “In my head, I’ve painted the kitchen three different colors.”
As conversation dwindles and the transport grows quiet, I stare up at the ceiling. The metal creaks and pops as it cools in the night air. Outside, the wind picks up, whistling through the tear in the back and carrying fine particles of sand that settle on everything.
I don’t know how or when I fall asleep. Dreams of water and trees and rain morph into something else. In my dream, the sand isn’t just around us—it’s alive. Microscopic creatures, glittering like tiny stars, swirl in the air. I watch in horror as they drift into the transport through every crack and crevice, seeking warmth, seeking life. They float toward us, drawn to our breath, our heat. I try to cover my face, but it’s too late—they’re entering through my nose, my mouth, my ears. I can feel them inside me, burrowing, multiplying, changing something fundamental in my cells.
I wake with a gasp, my hand flying to my throat. Just a dream.
Fuck, I’m going crazy. Lying back down, I promise myself it will get better, but dawn brings no relief—just another day of waiting, of scanning the yellow sky for any sign of rescue.
By midday on the fourth day, tensions are running high. I find myself staring at those rock formations in the distance, an idea forming that I know Jacqui won’t like.
“We can’t just keep sitting here,” Hannah says, her words tumbling out rapidly as she paces. “We’re going to run out of water soon. We’ll dehydrate. We’ll die. Has anyone even counted how many packets are left? What’s our actual timeline here?” Her anxiety is infectious, making my own heart rate spike.
“The hydration packets will last exactly 8.3 more days at current consumption rates,” Erika counters, consulting her meticulously organized inventory list. Her precision has become both reassuring and slightly intimidating. “We stick to the plan. That’s final.”
“And then what?” Mikaela crosses her arms, that familiar sardonic smile playing at her lips. “We just die of thirst on day 8.4 instead of today? Stellar fucking plan, Commander.”
Erika bristles.
“Actually,” Tina interjects, adjusting her glasses, “if we factor in the decreased metabolic needs as our bodies adjust to reduced caloric intake, we might extend that to 9.2 days, assuming the temperature remains consistent with what we’ve had so far.”
“We stick to the plan.” Erika stands to face Mikaela. “Stay with the transport. Maintain the beacon. Wait for rescue.”
“It’s beenfourdays,” Hannah points out. “If they were coming, wouldn’t they be here by now?”
“Maybe they don’t know exactly where we are.” Tina shrugs. “The manual mentions something about ‘variable location drops’ for different simulation scenarios.”
“This isn’t a simulation anymore!” Hannah’s voice rises. “This is real! We crashed! People got hurt!”
“Keep your voice down,” Alex warns, glancing toward the woman with the head wound, who’s dozing fitfully in her makeshift bed, which is really just two seats.
“She’s right though,” I find myself saying. All eyes turn to me. “We need to consider the possibility that no one is coming. Or at least, not coming soon enough.”
“What are you suggesting?” Erika asks. Her expression is guarded and I wonder if it’s wise to reveal my little plan.
I take a deep breath. “Those rock formations in the distance. They’re the only feature in this landscape. If one of us could get there, maybe climb up high enough, we might be able to see something we can’t from here. A settlement, an oasis, anything.”
“That’sinsane,” Jacqui says immediately. “It’s got to be miles away. In this heat? They’d never make it.”
“Not alone, maybe.” I shrug. “But if a small group went, carrying most of the water…”
“And leaving the rest of us with less,” Erika points out.
“If they find help, it wouldn’t matter,” Mikaela counters, surprising me by taking my side.
The debate escalates quickly. Voices rise and fall as different scenarios are proposed and shot down. Go as a group? Too risky for the injured. Stay and wait longer? Supplies won’t last forever. Send a signal party? Who would volunteer for what could be a suicide mission?
“Enough!” Surprisingly, it’s Tina who finally silences the argument. “We’re talking in circles. We need to make a decision.”
“I think Justine’s right,” Mikaela says after a moment of tense silence. “Someone needs to check out those rocks. But it should just be one person. To conserve water. The rest stay with the transport.”
