Awakening

by Hayden Pearton

  *

  Meanwhile, several feet ahead, Alza was pondering Ion’s cryptic words. She had acted as if she knew Alza’s past and the reason for her amnesia.

  “She could have been lying,” Alza thought, “It did seem as though she wanted all of us to stay together. Still, It’s not like I have any other clues to my past, and she did not seem like the kind who would mislead others for pleasure. However, if the old man or the boy get in my way or slow me down, I may have to take action, no matter what Ion wants.”

  Around them the landscape continued to change, from a rocky wasteland into a partially decayed hillside. They were still in the desert, but by the looks of it, the erosion here wasn’t as bad. Here and there, tufts of brown grass were poking through the thin layer of sand, and several small burrows dotted the land. Now and again they would catch sight of distant, grey mountains, their peaks covered in wreaths of dark clouds. As they walked, Kingston provided some commentary on the area. He talked of entire cities being swallowed up by the sand, and lakes disappearing overnight. How much of what he said was true is best left to speculation, though the odd stone column poking out from a hill lent some credence to his tales.

  Soon they were out of the half-decayed hills, entering into the final stretch of open desert before reaching the dusty plateaus in the distance. While they had been traversing the hillside, they had been protected from the wind, but now that they were out in the open, it hit them in full force. With every step forward they took, the strength of the gale increased tenfold. The sand was whipped up into strange, otherworldly shapes and stung every inch of exposed skin.

  In an effort to protect themselves, they wrapped stray pieces of cloth around their heads, till only their squinting eyes remained visible. As they had wrapped themselves Kingston had explained that he had learnt the trick while fighting in some distant desert.

  As the wind-speed increased, Barsch could have sworn that it was coming from all directions. When he tried to tell this to the others, they replied by blank stares. Not wanting to remain a fool in their eyes, he tore off a piece of cloth and threw it into the air. Normally, it would be instantly blown away, but in defiance to the norms, it hung in mid-air, turning rapidly on the spot. It then began to float erratically, following a rough spiral pattern. As they all watched this strange phenomenon, Kingston started to shout something.

  However, his words were whipped away by the wind the moment they left his mouth, so he was forced to forcibly grab Barsch and turn him around. Immediately, all thoughts of the strange behaviour of the cloth were ripped from his mind. Less than a mile away, a wall of sand was rapidly approaching. It seemed to have no end, and it blocked out the sky behind it. If Barsch’s mouth had not been stuffed full of cloth, he would have screamed.

  A sudden movement at the base of the encroaching wall drew his attention. It was a flock of vultures, struggling to escape from the moving mountain of sand. They were flying as fast as they could, but the wall was still catching up. A few of the smarter members of the group tried to fly up and over the sand, but their efforts were ultimately futile. One by one, they were swallowed by the earthy onslaught, their final shrieks cut painfully short.

  Barsch turned back to the group, to tell them about this latest development, but was once again rendered mute by what he saw. To his left and right, two more walls of sand were forming. They were trapped on all sides, with no hope of escape. As the walls grew near, the sun itself was blotted out, leaving the distressed group in near darkness.

  “Kingston! What do we do?” screamed Barsch, struggling to keep him composure in the darkness.

  But Kingston had no answers. He looked around at the surging sand, seemed to make a decision, then in a sudden burst of speed tackled Barsch to the ground. Ignoring the boy’s angry protests, he looked for Alza, hoping that she would get the hint. But Alza was still on her feet, entranced by the wall of sand. Kingston began to call out to her, but stopped when he saw her glowing eyes. With her ivory hair being whipped to and fro, and her unearthly violet eyes, she could almost pass for a goddess. She raised her hands to the sky, as if she could hold back the sand with strength alone.

  However, it soon became evident that she was doing something. The wind, which had been howling from all directions nonstop, was suddenly gone. In its place was a strange calm. The sound appeared to have disappeared into the small, transparent orb that had suddenly materialized in Alza’s outstretched hands. Her eyes seemed to shine with even more intensity, and in response, the diminutive sphere began to grow larger. Soon it was larger than her, and it showed no sign of stopping. It touched the sand and expanded outwards, whilst simultaneously pushing the sand back.

  It reached Kingston and he braced himself, but it passed through him, on its journey outwards. The bubble was now several feet across, and just as high. It was clear, allowing the occupants inside an undisturbed view of the sand outside. For a moment, Kingston thought that he was safe, but then Alza sank to one knee and the bubble began to waver. From his position, he could see her face clearly. It was deathly pale, and her normally serene features were twisted in concentration. The stress of holding back so much sand was showing, as a thin rivulet of blood began to flow from her right eye. Still, she pressed on, giving everything she had to keep the protective shell going.

  Kingston could see that she wasn’t going to make it, and as he watched, large cracks appeared on the transparent bubble, distorting the world outside. They spread and grew larger, threatening the integrity of the dome. Alza was on both knees now, fighting with what little strength she had left.

  Bloody tears snaked down her pain-filled face and stained her dress. Suddenly, a sound filled the noiseless air, a whistling that Kingston had once associated with artillery fire.

  It was a boulder, more than five feet across and terminally solid. Plucked from some distant location, it was in no mood to be stopped by a flimsy barrier. With a speed that left a sonic boom in its wake, it collided with the collapsing bubble. To Alza’s credit, it did not break immediately, and for a moment Kingston regained hope.

  However, it was not to be, as mere seconds later the boulder punched, well, a boulder-sized hole in the dome. As the rest of the barrier collapsed and the overdue sand poured in, Kingston vaguely saw something collide with Alza, knocking her to the ground. Remembering his own charge, Kingston threw himself on top of the still protesting Barsch, smothering him completely. His last thoughts were driven from his mind by the onrush of smothering sand. As the darkness consumed him, he felt a faint heartbeat below him. He could only hope and pray that it would still be there, if he ever awoke…