Endless

Miles upon miles of parched desert sand. As far as the eye could see, that was all Chad saw. Despair welled up. How was he ever going to get back to his group? He couldn't even see them. There had been a freak sandstorm yesterday, and somehow he'd gotten seperated from the caravan. Now, without realizing it he was wandering farther and farther away.

He'd run away from home three days ago. Chad resented his parents forcing him to come to this awful place with them. It was ugly, hideous. Nothing but dry parching wind, and sand. Ugh! He hated sand. He never wanted to see sand again as long as he lived! He needed water. Where could he find water?

He'd joined a caravan the day before, thinking it would get him to a city someplace, then he could travel home from there. Back to America. Familiarity. Friends. He could go to a school, where everyone spoke the same language as he did. Where he could play soccer. Chad lived and breathed soccer. That is, until his parents had uprooted hom and his little sister and brought them to this harsh desolate place. Granted Amy seemed to like it here. But then Amy liked it anywhere.

But the caravan he'd joined was not going where Chad had imagined. They were headed across the desert. Not speaking the language, Chad had sneaked into one of the carts, unseen. He figured that by the time they discovered him, they'd be too far on their way to just leave him behind. He had not thought about sandstorms.

Trundling along on the cart he thought about what all he was going to do once he got home. Would his parents miss him? Well, it would serve them right! Bringing him out here. He'd wanted to stay behind, had begged to stay behind. But they'd said no, and made him come.

The jerking of the cart lulled him to sleep. He'd been awakened by someone shouting, and then he was roughly jerked out of the cart. Three men were shouting at him.

Chad blinked sleepily. It wasn't long before he was wide awake though. And feeling a little scared. More people gathered around. One man said something, and the rest laughed, spiking fear in Chad's heart. "Let me go!" He hollered, struggling in the man's grip. However much he struggled, there was no getting away. The man holding him was a big man. Powerful looking. He shook Chad and spoke sternly. "Boy hold still. Not do that."

English! At last, someone who spoke english. Chad started to speak. "I need to get home. Please. I just need to get to the city, so I can go home. Back to America."

"Ahh. Amertica." The man spoke loudly and grinned. The other men chuckled. "You Amertica?" He asked.

Chad nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes, I'm American. Please, can you help me? My parents made me come, so I ran away, now I want to go home. Home, to America. " tears of desperation filled his eyes. He blinked them away. He was not going to cry, not before these men.

"Amertica." The big man grinned again. His teeth were black, Chad noted. He shuddered. The big man spoke again, in his native fongue this time, so Chad didn't understand.

He was beginning to wish he wouldn't have refused to learn now. Amy could speak the local lamguage enough to get by. She'd even made some new friends. Chad had never gotten beyond 'hello'.

He was paying for it now. He was also beginning to realize that while the big man holding onto his arm could speak a few words of english, he really wasn't fluent.

The men laughed again. They were laughing at him, Chad realized suddenly. It angered him. He suddenly in one fluid motion hit the man holding him with his fist, right into his private area. The man doubled over with a groan, releasing Chad as he did so.

Darting quickly away, Chad tried to escape. But he was completely surrounded by a group of suddenly angry looking men. He was grabbed and roughly thrown on a camel's back. Utterly terrified, Chad screamed. "Get me down from here."

The big man glared up at him. "You. Amertican boy, stay camel. We send you parents when get where we going."

"Where are we going?" Chad demanded. No longer sure if he really wanted to run away. A wave of sudden longing for his parents swept over him. No one answered him. As the caravan began moving again. Chad hung on for dear life. Never had he ridden a camel before. He soon began to feel hot, and thirsty. As the day grew steadily hotter, the caravan stopped for the day. The big man pulled. Had off the camel, and giving him a canteen told him rather gruffly to drink. Chad did, not even caring that the water was warm.

The sky was growing darker, rather quickly, Chad noticed. Oh good that meant rain. He cheered up a little. Rain would cool things off a bit. The men had erected a tent, and they were all heading inside. "Come." The big man seemed to have appointed himself Chad's guardian. He pointed to the tent.

"Why?" Chad shook his head. "It's going to rain. I want to stay out here." He crossed his arms stubbornly.

"Not rain." The big man pointed. "Sandstorm. Come." He motioned again urgently.

Sandstorm? Oh yea they had those in the desert didn't they? The big man pulled his arm. "Come." More urgently.

Chad yanked his arm away from him. "You go on in. I'll come then. I want to watch this for a bit. I've never seen a Sandstorm. "

A man stuck his head out of the tent and yelled something. The big man replied, sounding exasperated, with a motion towards Chad. The other man yelled something back. With a grunt and a shake of his head the man grabbed Chad and headed for the tent.

Furious now, Chad bit him. Hard

With a yelp the man let him go. He glared at Chad. "Sandstorm bad." He said. "It come fast " then disappeared into the tent.

Good. He didn't want to be in that tent with those men anyway. Be could shelter underneath one of the wagons. Chad turned away. He'd only taken a few steps when the Sandstorm hit.

Swirling sand was everywhere. In his eyes, nose, mouth throat. Chad coughed. He covered his nose with his shirt. He had to find the tent, but it was hard to see anything. He started walking. It didn't feel like he was making much headway. He should be almost at the tent. Poor Chad didn't realize he was heading away from the tent.

Coughing violently he dropped to his knees in the hot sand. The swirling bits of sand stung his cheeks. Sitting down he buried his face in his lap, and just prayed for it to be over soon.

If only he could make it back to his parents safely, he would never run away again. After all they had only six more months before they went back to America again. He could've waited that long, surely. What if he died out here? Would his parents and sister ever find out what had happened to him?

After what seemed like hours all Chad heard was silence. He lifted his head slowly, blinked the grit out of his eyes. His throat was parched. He needed a drink.

Shock reverberated through him. All he saw was miles upon miles of sand. Despair washed over him. How was he supposed to know where the others were? All he could see was sand. A neverending sea of sand.