CRITICAL HABITAT by Terrence King

Author:Terrence King [King, Terrence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguins & Ducks Press
Published: 2023-11-12T16:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

They lumbered through the deepening ravine in succession, at times wavering in fits and starts. Beck wiped his forehead, each step pounding a stake through his skull. The more desert ground they covered, the better off they would be, with nothing to see for kilometers in all directions. Skeletal remains emerged in the sands now and then—a dire warning. At high noon, head coverings did little to quell the cruel sun, their canteens almost empty. Maybe he deserved all of this. After all, his mongoose-like salvaging and betting and haggling and philandering made him few friends.

Airfoil would come in really handy right now.

The ravine’s narrowing walls provided little shade, only quick shadows in passing. Maybe the crumbling soil would be cooler on his soles. Climate met consternation, geography, and consequence. Beck grumbled to himself. Two meters down, they were technically farthest from the sun.

It would be hottest the next few hours, and he hoped they’d find water or a cooler place to camp. Nothing was seen alive out here during this part of the day. Wildlife sensed the worst was coming and had withdrawn into hiding. Never had he thought of hard, impenetrable cracked desert ground as body armor.

Looking up ahead, Y led the way northeast through the dry channel with his poking stick. The ravine provided a strange sense of protection from drone sightings overhead, but everyone kept their eyes peeled for them. Then the consistency of the ravine changed, like they’d entered a new habitat, a de-evolution where the ground became darker as if sprayed with ink. Streams of poison runoff dribbled down the sides; still they trudged forward. Sludge pools collected in cracks and gullies, and the crew managed to step and jump without a slip. Sometimes Y’s boots would get caked with gunk.

“The only liquid surviving out here, fantastic!” he would cry as he kicked and scraped his boots against banked rocks, silt, and soot, successfully avoiding the contaminated drizzle with precision and luck.

“I’m impressed,” X would say every time Y managed to stay vertical.

“I’m annoyed,” he’d respond. Sun Bin managed to keep up, his thin sandals caked with muck, his scythed staff both anchor and crutch.

Beck turned back to Mel bringing up the back of their crew as Simple Eye floated nearby, scouting for intruders and distractions. Still, an uneasiness welled.

“We still aiming for District Forty-Four, Simple Eye?” Mel asked to the drone’s beeping confirmations.

Beck shook his head. The annoyingly playful thing had been helpful, but he’d never asked why it accompanied Mel. Where it came from. “How do you understand it?”

“More intuition than others?”

He wanted to trust her. She was at once bald, hard-nosed, and lovely, with conviction in her deliberate words and comfortable silence. Soft creases around her youthful eyes carried both kindness and mistrust, like that of a loving but wounded animal. A contradiction, like a dull blade. But something nagged at him, did not feel right. “I don’t care what most people have to say,” he said. “As long as we’re going the right direction.

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