Into the Depths

I thought I had escaped them. I had been running from them for two years. This is probably the longest I had gone without being found in a while, but that’s not surprising considering where I was. I chose the only place that no one ventures. Except me, of course. I had been here since and I almost wish I had let them catch me, so I wouldn’t suffer in this wasteland anymore. Almost. I was desperate, but I wasn’t that desperate. Yet.  Starving. Exhausted. Bleeding. I was in too deep, but I could not return. Not only because of them, but also because of the sand. Sand was all I could see. North. South. East. West. Didn’t matter. It explained why this place was called The Depths because I felt like I was in the deep end with no shallow end in sight.  I didn’t have a lot left in me though. Existing was merely a futile attempt at this point.

The silence too was disorienting. Although the world had been flipped on its head these past years. Some places were worse than others, and I was in the worst place possible. It was hard to tell whether this place was worse than what they had planned for me.

I heard a sound in the distance- a sound that I hadn’t heard in years. A motorcycle engine. I squinted as I looked behind me, searching for movement on the horizon. What the hell? There was nothing for as far as the eye could see. Except, what was that? A fast-moving speck neared me for every second that I stood still.

There was nowhere to hide. I was out in the open. The sand not offering me much support. I looked around frantically.

My instincts kicked in. I still had some flight left in me, and perhaps deep down, way deep down, there was some fight left as well.

I hadn’t run in years. I didn’t even think I could run still, since food was few and far between. But I did run. The sun at my back, the sand at my feet. I was expending more energy than anything. Panic caused my throat to close and the anxiety caused my heart to race. My vision blurred. I stumbled and dry heaved as I fell to my knees. Running is futile, physically I am almost completely incapable, but where would I go? There’s nothing in the distance. The sand that felt so soft as I walked then ran, now like hot grains searing into my skin. I had no choice since my body had failed me, hiding was now my only other option, and then fight if it came down to it.

Limbs liquid from dragging myself through the sinking slopes of terrain, I began to dig. I had to bury myself alive. I shivered at the sight of what very well might be my final resting place. I hastily rolled into my coffin, and then darkness consumed me as I used my shaking hands to cover myself. I breathed deeply to offset the claustrophobia, sand entered my dry mouth causing me to choke. I clutched my only weapon, a small knife to my chest.

Then I waited as sand blinded me now. As the motorcycle sounded impossibly closer until almost on top of where I lay. Then silence. And then? A deep voice muses, “You can run but you can’t hide”. I disagree. I couldn’t run. Not anymore. Not really. Sunlight now blinded me as my leg was pulled and I was yanked out of my temporary oasis or hell. Oasis because that was the first rest I’d had in a while. Hell because I would’ve probably died under there if I wasn’t pulled topside again. I scrambled to my already quivering legs. I swung blindly trying to blink sand out of my eyes to face my enemy. There were no friends in this new normal, so this person, whoever they were was my enemy.

My wrist was hit sharply causing me to drop my only defense. I was pulled against a warm and large body. A body that indicated that this person had not been undergoing a food shortage like the rest of us. I was suddenly enraged and flung my head back to hit his chin, which he avoided. Keeping my hands behind my back, I was now well and truly defenseless.

“If I’m going to carry you on this journey with me, you’ll need to become a better fighter. That was pathetic. If hiding is your best defense, next time, erase the footprints leading toward you. You’re lucky it was me and not one of the people looking for you”.

I didn’t respond. My voice would probably be unable to form words, raspy with lack of use. 

He turned me to him, brushing the sand granules from my face. I got my first look at him. He had the eyes of a man who had seen a lot. I tried to imagine what he saw when he looked at me. A defenseless, runt fighting for scraps. Almost like he could see my resolve to fight him every step of the way, he leveled me with a look. A look that said if I tried anything he wouldn’t hesitate to drag me along kicking and screaming.

I couldn’t figure out why it mattered so much to him what my outcome would be. Like everyone else, I was destined to be the last of my family name. I was almost tired of fighting. My shoulders slumped inward and my body swooned. It seemed like all my adrenaline was used up. Used up in an attempt to one-up a man who as I looked at him? I would’ve been unsuccessful no matter what I had done. Pathetic he’d said. If he or anyone else had really wanted to do some harm, they wouldn’t have had to try too hard. He supported my weight, my long limbs barely having any meat on them as my body had used up all my reserves a long indistinguishable time ago. He was taking me to his motorcycle. He sat me on the ground beside it before handing me a bottle. Water? 

I looked at him again.

“It’s yours, I have more”

He has… more? 

“Drink up”.

I guzzled the water and watched him some more. He reached again into his saddle bag. This time producing a tin can with Vienna sausages. Was I dead already? Was I in the throes of a deep vivid dream?

This was too good to be true. What did he want from me? He clearly was the one with bargaining power here.

I hesitated to touch the tin can that was already open.

“I don’t have anything. If you want something in return, you should just take this tin and go wherever you were heading”. I managed to get out through my slightly less dry mouth. I clutched the water bottle to me because that’s the one thing I wouldn’t let him take from me.

It was his turn to study me. 

“Eat or I’ll have to feed you myself. We don’t have time for this and you’ll need your energy”, his gruff tone grumbled, a slight downturn to his lips. That wasn’t surprising. I would have been more surprised if he had smiled. Then I would have had my proof that this was a dream. I hadn’t seen many people while I was on my own but I doubted that anyone had anything to smile about nowadays. 

He grunted in impatience and I hesitantly took a sausage out, watching him even harder, like a dog protecting their food bowl. If he gave me the food just to take it away, I would go rabid. I could only stomach three sausages before my stomach felt uneasy. That was the most I’d eaten in as long as I could remember. 

He lifted me from the ground easily. He removed the half-full tin and water bottle from my hands, despite what I thought was a firm grip. 

“You’ll get it back later. We’ve been here too long”, he remarked, putting the food and drink back in his saddle bag. 

He helped me onto the motorcycle before getting on in front of me.

“Wrap your hands around me. Real tight. Don’t let go no matter what. The sand is difficult terrain to navigate, but we’ll be fine soon”.

I wrapped my arms around him tight. The tightest I had been able to hold, just a little of my strength rejuvenated since being provided with basic necessities that were not so basic anymore. 

“If you run, I’ll have to chase you. Running won’t save you anyhow”, he almost looked predatory when he spoke. Like he almost hoped I would run. Lucky for him, I would never stop trying to run.