by John Sharp
****
My mouth is far beyond dry. If my mouth were dry I would consider it a vast improvement. It actually feels like my mouth is full of the endless blue sand. I can’t even spit it out for that would require saliva. We have traveled all night long, Whisper covering distance with the speed of a mag train. Yet for all of our progress no end is in sight. Now we desperately search for any shelter for the coming day. Already the two suns have risen beyond the horizon, baking us with intense heat. I have already stopped sweating. I don’t have any moisture to spare. The suns consume all. I feel sorry for Whisper. He carries Sarah and me while my shadow scouts around for any potential shade. So far we see nothing as the day becomes hotter and hotter. Whisper pants with every step, heavy ragged breaths coming through his dry, cracked mouth.
“I need water,” Whisper says as he runs, his head swinging desperately back and forth.
“Hopefully shadow will find something soon,” I reply and I desperately try to believe it.
“These accursed suns are merciless,” my shadow says a second later. I can’t see him. The glare from the blue sands is just too bright. “I found a spot to rest. Go to your right, rat.”
Whisper doesn’t bother to retort and just obeys, which tells me how bad of condition he is in. We travel at my shadow’s urgings until a small yellow structure comes into view. It is hard to tell what it is. A natural formation or a bleached bone of some large animal unfortunate enough get trapped out in the sun. It doesn’t matter, it will have to do. It’s big enough for Whisper to enter through a large crack on the side facing us. Once inside relatively cool air welcomes us. In truth, the air is still comparable to the interior of a microwave but compared to the exterior temperature it is bliss. There’s even some water in hollows along the edge. Whisper doesn’t hesitate, instantly drinking from the nearest pool of water. It’s gone in a minute. Several smaller pockets of water are present, enough for Sarah and me to drink our fill as well.
With my immediate concern taken care of I examine the yellow structure. It’s large with enough room for all three of us but not a lot more. Placing my hand against it I feel its surface. It is rough and warm with hardened knobs on its surface. A shell of some long-dead animal I suppose. Looking around I see several smaller animals about the size of rats scurrying about, hiding from us. All are out of sight before I can do anything. Exhaustion and hunger pull at me with equal strength.
“Whisper, come here for a second,” I say lamenting at what I am about to do.
“Yes, Shifter?” Whisper says, coming forward. Wordlessly I give him all the remaining crab legs, save one for Sarah.
“What about you, Shifter?” Whisper asks concerned, his warrior pride offended by being offered all the food.
“You’re doing all the work. You need the food more than I do. I can eat when we get more,” I say. Sarah, looking down at her single crab leg, sighs and gives it to Whisper also.
“Jerry’s right, Whisper. You need your strength more than we do. Please, for all our sakes eat.”
Whisper doesn’t like it but in the end he eats. He eats every little bit, utterly famished from his hard day of toil. We are about to get what sleep we can when the cry comes.
“Help me,” a cry comes from beyond our improvised shelter. A lone helper crab walks very slowly toward us. It sways from side to side, unable to move at more than a slow crawl. Whisper rises to his feet, eager to help in a way the crab wouldn’t like but I hold him back. The suns are almost at their peak, just visible through the yellow shell. The shell looked rather solid before but the light is so intense now it’s penetrating even through this. The sands outside almost seem to melt the air, distorting as the noon suns climax. The helper crab is now just outside, only a meter away from shelter when it collapses, cooking on the spot. Sizzling and high pitched sounds come from the crab but it is long dead. The top of the shell bursts open as boiling fluids leak from the shell, pooling on the sand and frying in place. We wait, watching the crab cook and realizing how close we had come to sharing its fate. For ten minutes the crab cooks before the suns pass their zenith and we are able to drag it inside. We let Whisper have most, who eats ravenously while Sarah and I split a single crab leg. Feeling marginally better but still hungry all three of us curl up and sleep as best we can.
The next day is no better. Traveling mostly by night and desperately seeking what shelter and water we can. With nothing to do but watch the sands go by I talk with Sarah. We tell each other about our childhoods and our shared love of music. I find out that she has an older brother high up in the army. Both her parents died when she was twelve and her brother raised her and put her through college. I won’t admit it but I am jealous. My family life was a joke. The love she had growing up was almost painful to hear about.
“So, tell me about this girl you dream of.” Sarah asks, wincing as the suns blaze just cresting over the horizon. The trip has been hard on us so far but Sarah has it far worse than I. Whenever the suns are out she talks nonstop until her mouth is too dry to continue. I think talking helps keep her mind off her discomfort. Hell, discomfort is a grand understatement. Her skin is a bright, angry red everywhere the blasted suns touch. The sun has stripped the last blonde from her hair making it a pure snow white color. Not an old crone’s white but a healthy dry white, like silk in the sun. I fare much better. I ‘m hot but otherwise unaffected. I have even given Sarah my shirt to use as a comical shawl but my skin still stays its usual sickly white. “Not much to tell. She’s just some girl I dreamt of when I was in another world,” I say.
“Is she pretty?” Sarah asks, holding me lightly as Whisper trots on.
“I guess so. It’s hard to compare with her blue skin,” I say, not sure where this is going.
Sarah’s arms tighten around me. “Blue skin? You mean like Solarkar?”
“Yeah. They must be the same species. They have the same green hair and slender frames. The only difference I saw was the eyes. I’m not sure if we can trust her, but like we talked about before, what choice do we have?” A sudden flash of inspiration strikes me. For me the idea is brilliant and ground breaking. For anyone else it would likely be common knowledge. “I think you’re far prettier than she is, than anyone else really,” I add, instantly feeling lame.
A long moment passes by and I am seriously doubting my previous conclusion that I was brilliant or even intelligent at this point. Perhaps I should just imitate a monkey for better responses. Suddenly, Sarah grips me tight, pressing hard into my back.
“Thank you,” she says, kissing my ear. I feel myself redden and not from the suns.
“Ugh, I hope we leave here soon,” my shadow says, having just returned from his scouting trip. “I don’t think I can stomach much more of this.”
“You don’t have to be jealous,” I mock. “You can have Whisper kiss you.”
“I’d rather mate with a mole,” Whisper replies with a snort.
“For once I’m in agreement with the rat,” my shadow says haughtily. “To the east is a small rocky crevasse. It will have to do for the days needs.” We turn in the suggested direction, the light from the suns nearly blinding us.
This goes on for three weeks, finding shelter by day and getting what food and water we can. It’s never enough. Gradually we see the first real signs of planet life. It’s a greenish-yellow grass so tough that it could even resist the sun. At the end of the fourth week the blasted blue sand desert finally ends. Just as the mysterious girl had promised there is a graveyard. A private fear I have is that we will miss it. After all, a graveyard is usually small, even if large animals go there to die. Such a place could easily be missed when crossing a vast desert. This, however, is no ordinary graveyard. The girl called it the graveyard of the first creations. What she had failed to tell me is that the first creations were Dragons.