by Raina Ash
She sat down next to the fire pit and watched Paul divide everything. The air was warm, around ninety degrees, and sweat soon formed on Paul’s forehead, trickling down his face. She thought of the sandstorm and how he had kept her calm. He seemed so easy to talk to, even if he was annoying. She thought she was getting to know him, but watching him load the camel made her realize a hard truth: he was a stranger. She didn’t know if she could trust him and she was stranded in the desert with dwindling supplies.
It doesn’t matter how long you know a person, they can still betray you. Isaac left her. Her father left. One day, when she was eleven, her dad packed up before she got home from school. She found her mom sitting on the couch staring out the window when she came home. Neither of them heard from him again. People can love you one minute and abandon you the next. Then you’re the one left dealing with the emptiness and pain for the rest of your life.
If she stayed at the camp and waited for Noah, he might not return in time. If she followed Paul, he might change his mind and steal her supplies, leaving her even more stranded and betrayed. Either way, she was fucked.
Paul finished packing the camel and turned to look at her. He stared at her for a long time until his expression softened. “Please, are you coming with me?” he said. He looked less determined and more worried.
She stood up, defeated, looking out at the vast, unforgiving landscape. She grabbed her backpack and joined Paul next to the camel. Leaving the tent felt like the wrong decision. But if her last days on Earth would be wandering the Sahara desert, she wasn’t going to die alone. If Paul stuck around long enough.
Paul exhaled and packed the rest of the bags on the camel. He pointed to a pile of items next to the tent. “The camel probably can’t handle the weight of all the bags along with us, so I prioritized our food and water. There’s also one tent, first aide, and two bed rolls. The rest has to stay. I also took off the bars on the saddle, so we’ll have to be careful. We’ll have enough to make a week of fires, and we’ve each got a backpack of clothes and extras. I hope Alfred can carry everything because with us it will be a lot of weight.”
Allison nodded. She powered on her phone and took a picture of the campsite they were leaving behind. She took a picture of the camel and Paul, then a selfie with orange dunes in the background. She wrote a quick text to Summer, in case it was her last one, and clicked send, waiting until the warning popped up about the message being stuck in the outbox. She powered her phone off and climbed on the camel.
Paul wanted to tell her something more, but kept it to himself. Once he climbed in front of her, he moved the reigns until the camel moved. It seemed to struggle, and Allison gripped the saddle as tight as she could to keep from falling off, but Alfred managed to stand.
As the camel walked forward with Paul steering, Allison turned to see the tent, hoping she wasn’t making the worst decision she’d ever made in her life.
They spent the remainder of the day and most of the night riding Alfred in a (hopefully) straight line. Paul was 100% certain that the setting sun was on his left when Noah said they were heading for an oasis, so he guided the camel so the setting sun was now on his right. He reasoned that they should be moving toward the village. They stopped to drink and stretch their legs, but Allison’s back and tailbone ache terribly from the ride. When the full moon was high in the sky, she insisted they set up some kind of camp and call it a day. It was the first time she had spoken to Paul since their argument.
“If we keep going, we’ll be out of this mess sooner,” Paul said.
“We have to let the poor camel rest. He, she, it...the poor thing has slowed down because it’s so tired. And we’re both exhausted.”
Paul adjusted his glasses. “I guess you’re right.”
They found a flat section of land and made camp in the moonlight. Dinner was a freeze dried chicken fajita bowl with a small cup of mint tea. At least it was better than moisture-rich protein bars that were mushy and tasted like mud. Allison wrapped herself in a blanket and sat close to the fire, putting her back to the cold breeze that had picked up.
After a lot of silent chewing while bugs made noise in the distance, Paul cleared his throat. “So, we should be nearing the village,” he said. “I expect we’ll get there before noon tomorrow, provided we don’t sleep too late.”
Allison grunted an acknowledgement but continued to stare at the small fire.
“This will sure be a trip I’ll never forget,” Paul added. “I don’t think I’ll want to ride another camel, or see one for that matter, the rest of my life.”
Allison nodded, finishing her tea.
He stood and walked around the fire to sit next to her. She started to get up but her legs ached and she couldn’t muster the strength. She scooted a few inches away.
“Allison,” he said. “It’s clear you’re pissed at me, which won’t make the remainder of our journey any better. I know I was brash.”
“You forced me to leave somewhere safe where Noah could find us,” she snapped at him. “No one knows where we are now. I’ve read that the temperatures here can reach 120 degrees.” She took a breath and looked down at the sand. Was she being unreasonable? Paul was only doing what he thought was best.
“After weighing all the pros and cons,” Paul said, “this was the best option. We have to ensure our own survival, not wait around and hope to be rescued.”
“I don’t know what the best choice is or was. I guess I panicked back there.”
He crossed his legs. He hesitated before touching her shoulder. “That’s understandable.”
“Let’s just move on.” She hugged her knees to her chest. She wanted to be back home in her soft, comfy bed.
Paul nodded and then looked up at the bright, round moon. “Somehow, I’m not feeling like myself. What I mean is, I’m struggling, as I imagine you are. This is...a bit terrifying.”
His skin glowed orange in the firelight and the stubble on his face had grown longer. He was one of those guys that didn’t stand out, not the way Noah did, even though he was fit and had nice features. He was comfortable working behind the scenes, always at ease with himself and his place in the world. She realized he might be putting on a brave face for her.
“I’m not myself either, or I’m letting anxiety take control too much.” She bit her lower lip. “I’m trying to focus on what we’re doing and on my immediate surroundings because if I think too much about where we are and the reality of the situation, I might have a panic attack.” She had an urge to rest her head on his shoulder. Her body yearned for some form of comfort, some touch that would make everything okay again. She decided she didn’t want to risk the rejection. Instead, she gave him a quick pat on the back.
“Is that for a job well done?” he said.
She smiled. “I don’t know why I do that. It’s a habit. At work when one of my employees is freaking out, I give them a pat on the back and tell them to focus on solutions not problems. It’s way easier to be a boss and give advice than it is to follow it.”
Paul nodded. “So what do you do for work? I don’t think we’ve ever had that conversation.”
“I’m a Marketing Director for a large agency in California. I manage people younger than me who always seem to be more tech savvy but have bad critical thinking skills.”
“That’s a fancy title. Do you enjoy it?”
“It has its moments. I like that it gives me a sense of a bigger picture, that there’s more than just everyday monotony, though I experience plenty of that. We build campaigns and think long term, like where a company is trying to end up. End goals. I think most people think short-term and don’t consider where they’ll be in five or ten years.” Which I’m also guilty of, she thought. “What about you? You seem to travel a lot.”
“I do. Some for work, some for fun. I’ve spent the last several years building my company. It’s been a challenge.” He looked at her as she waited for more info. “Oh,” he continued. “I’m in IT. I build netw
orks and databases for large businesses. Well, that’s what I do to pay the bills. The real part of my company is building out networks for places in need, like small businesses in underdeveloped countries. It’s hard for people in those places to make money. When they grow even a little, get a few employees, they can’t compete with the security and stability a large company offers. I help them with websites and protecting client data. Eventually, I will ditch my main business and become a non-profit.”
“I’ve never known anyone who runs a non-profit. You don’t seem like the type.” She held up her hands. “Not to be rude. I didn’t mean it as an insult.”
He gave her a warm smile. “I know I can come across a bit disinterested. But I’ve always had a strong drive to help others. I have skills that others need but most can’t afford those skills. I’m not in this to get rich. I figure if I can support myself and have money for retirement, instead of pushing to be some millionaire, I can offer my knowledge to people who otherwise don’t have good resources.”
“That’s really amazing. And admirable.” Allison thought about some businesses she worked for, always chasing money and wanting more, more, more. Or Isaac, who wanted to grow his career and be a hotshot with a private jet, all others be damned. There were people like Paul and Summer who had a purpose and mission in life. She wasn’t sure where she fit on the spectrum. Did she focus too much on herself instead of others?
She smiled at Paul. She was warming to him, a little.
“Well, I’m tired and sore, so off to bed,” she said. “I don’t suppose we have any extra water for me to take a sponge bath?”
“Only a dry sponge bath.”
“Give me a few minutes to do that and then you should sleep, too.”
Paul nodded. “Goodnight.”
In the tent, she peeled off the clothes she had been wearing the past two days and put the tiniest amount of water on a washcloth. She barely wiped her arms before the cloth was covered in dirt. She did the best she could to remove dirt and sand from her body and hair, and then she changed into a clean pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She stretched out on her uncomfortable bedroll and imagined herself lounging on a beach somewhere in the Bahamas (not during hurricane season), sipping a Long Island Iced Tea and watching shirtless men surf the waves.
Chapter Nine
HER ATTEMPTS TO DREAM about sex on the beach failed. Instead, she dreamt that large, black scorpions covered her body, making it hard to move and breathe. When she woke, her first thought was, Black scorpions aren’t poisonous, so you’re okay. She laughed at the dumb ways her trivia knowledge popped into her head. She was oddly at ease sitting there in the tent, borderline numb. The stress of the past couple of days had overloaded her mind so much that her emotions shut off.
She looked at Paul’s side of the tent. He wasn’t there. She didn’t understand how he always got up before her even though she was a light sleeper. She didn’t know what to think about him. Some moments he was caring, other moments he spoke his mind too openly. Threatening to leave her stung, and she didn’t know him well enough to judge how serious he had been. Would he really abandoned her?
Her experience with men who loved travel was not the most positive. Both her father and Isaac traveled for work, and they both left her. Now here was another man who traveled for work, noble though it might be. He was attractive and, at moments, made her secure. Other times he drove her nuts. And they were both in a stressful situation, not the best environment to stir the pot of romance.
What am I doing thinking about this? She changed into jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. She grabbed her sunscreen and applied it to any exposed skin, mostly her face. The bottle felt light, so she applied a thin layer and wrapped a scarf around her neck that she could pull up over her nose. That along with a hat and sunglasses would only leave her hands exposed to those dangerous Sahara UVs.
I don’t even know if Paul is single, and this isn’t the time to be picking up men. Besides, I don’t even know if he’s someone who’s prone to leaving like Isaac. With any luck, we’ll be back to civilization by sundown and then I can worry about relationships, if I even want one ever again.
Before leaving the tent, she put on some makeup. Maybe she was crazy for packing an eyeshadow palette, some eyeliner, and mascara, but it’s always good to have supplies on hand for emergencies. And feeling scared and in danger was definitely an emergency where she needed some comfort. She blended purple and brown shades across her eyelids, filled in her brows, and lined her eyes with a jet black liner. The mascara made her eyelashes curl in just the right way and she smiled back at herself in the tiny compact mirror. She felt normal, even if only for a moment.
She packed her backpack (which was now out of clean clothes), and left the tent. It was still early, the sun barely poking above the sand. She yawned and stretched, taking a big breath of dusty smelling air. The tent rested in the middle of several small dunes, so protecting them from the wind. In a way, the new morning routine refreshed her. Not the “being stranded in the desert” part, but waking up without technology screaming for attention. She hadn’t been woken by noisy alarms or the ding of her phone at 5 a.m.; her body knew what time to wake. She had fallen into a natural rhythm - sleep when it’s dark, move when it’s light. Back home she’d often stay up past midnight browsing the internet, tricking her mind with artificial light.
She woke up naturally. Without the distraction of a tiny screen, life felt calm, relaxed. She was in the moment. It must’ve been the mindfulness Summer often mentioned in her videos. Each day, the desert landscape was more serene and a little less scary.
She decided to try to remember some yoga poses and do a morning routine. As she glanced around for a blanket, it was only then that she realized Paul was gone. And the camel. She walked around the other side of the tent in case, for some crazy reason, the camel had shrunk and was hiding. She walked around the entire tent, looking in all directions. The landscape was full of orange-red sand as far as the eye could see. Unless Paul had somehow dug a gigantic hole to hide in during the night, she was alone.
Thoughts raced through her mind. Maybe he went ahead to scout the area. But that didn’t make sense because. When she needed to pee, he told her it was important to stay in sight of each other. The camel was tied down tight, so it couldn’t run off. She tried to think of any other reason he would’ve taken the camel, except for leaving her, but she couldn’t.
“I knew it,” she shouted at the air. “I knew you’d be that jerk like all the other jerks in the world. You selfish son of a bitch thinking of yourself and leaving me out here by myself. What kind of person would be so heartless?” She sat down on a pillow next to the fire ashes.
After a few more curses, she fell silent and hugged her knees to her chest. Her heart pounded and blood rushed to her head. What was she supposed to do? The desert she connected to just a moment ago was an isolated and terrifying place. Without a camel, she'd have to walk. She couldn't do that, could she?
Her head shot up. What about food and water? That asshole had to leave her something. She tore through the remaining bags on the ground. When she finished, she tore through them again. She had her answer: nothing. No food and water, only tent supplies and a first aid kit. Not a single bottle of water or a meal pack.
How could she be so stupid? She was so trusting of a total stranger. Of a man who liked to travel. No man who sought adventure could be trusted. Ever. And now it wasn’t her heart in danger, it was her life.
She cursed everything that led her to this moment. She cursed her stupid father for abandoning her and her mother for giving up hope. She cursed herself for rejecting Jason Saunders and missing out on world travel. She cursed Isaac and even Summer. But it wasn't Summer’s fault. Summer hadn’t been burned, so she trusted life too much. It was Allison's fault for agreeing to travel. Why agree to a desert trip out of all the other trips offered to her?
She couldn't keep it together anymore. This was the worst possible situatio
n. She didn't want to die alone and forgotten in the red sand of the Sahara. No one would even find her body. Another sandstorm would come along, covering her in dirt for all eternity.
She curled up in a ball on the ground, dust covering her clean clothes and hair, and she let it all out. She sobbed into her hands, making wordless sounds that came from deep in her gut. Keeping it together, being strong, didn't matter. She would starve to death, plain and simple. Alone. Full of regret for everything she missed out on.
She sobbed out in the open for a long time, wishing she could hear Alfred grunting or chewing again in the distance. Her skin warmed from the sun. Sand shifted in the distance, like something large was moving across a nearby dune. She glanced up, blinking the tears away, scared of what it could be.
Paul walked clumsily through the sand while guiding the camel forward with the harness rope. She stared in disbelief as he approached. She stood and waited while he shoved a spike into the ground and tied the camel down. He dusted his hands off and looked at her.
“Jesus, what happened?” he said, rushing over. “Are you okay?”
She couldn't form words.
“Allison?”
More tears rimmed her eyes, and she stumbled forward. She embraced him and pressed her hands into his back.
He stood motionless with his arms next to his side, unsure of what to do. He cautiously returned the hug. “What happened?” he said, voice soft.
She rested her chin on his shoulder and shook her head, still unable to form words.
“Jesus, did you think I ran off? What horrible person would abandon someone in the desert?”
“You threatened to leave before. I thought you woke up and left because it wasn’t worth the trouble having me around. Or you wanted all the food and water.”
He rubbed her back. “No, I would never do that. I said a stupid thing before because I was panicked. I would have never left. I was acting stupid and trying to get you to go with me. If you had refused, I planned on staying. I wouldn’t leave you in the desert, let alone take all the rations with me. I’m not the most sensitive person, but I wouldn’t be that cruel.”