A Survivor's Tale, Part Two by Rebecca Reynolds

Author:Rebecca Reynolds
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-09-15T06:00:00+00:00

Then

I clung to the bars of the cart with desperate fingers, my body heaving greatly with the effort to breath. It was so hot I was afraid I would die right where I sat, with my legs dangling between the bars of our cage. We had been moving all day, watching as two of the raiders dropped in the dusty dirty sand, likely to never rise again.

The others kept on walking, most of them actually fully covered, to keep the sun from direct contact I think. They looked like pictures I’d seen of natives to a desert land, with long flowing robes and capes, heads wrapped to reveal only eyes. Those oddly seemed better off than the ones who exposed themselves down to the bare minimums. It would appear that some of them had made this trip more times than others had.

My world was a blurred dreamlike version, because they refused to lower the sides of the cart to block the sun out. And so we fried. Glancing back at my cage companions, I wasn’t sure that the teenaged boy was even still breathing. A woman had been dumped out of the other cart around mid-day, like a rag doll being thrown away. I had stared hard to be sure it wasn’t Tara. But the hair had been black and much shorter, almost looking roughly shorn. Perhaps she had tried to guise as a man to hide.

Right now, all I could think of was the temperate halls of the hideaway. Warm or cool, as needed. And the water. As much water as we could drink, and if we spent enough time at it; pure as we wanted. Food. As much as we could fill our stomachs with, and more still. We had been fed this morning, one package each. My stomach grumbled irritably.

And so, hunger, dehydration, and heat kept my world from stabilizing. I had tried all morning, before the heat of the day had muddled my mind, to determine who amongst these ravaging barbarians had the guts to rescue me. But none seemed more likely than any other.

I barely noticed when the setting sun brought our convoy to a halt. It was markedly cooler though, almost enough to breathe easy. Not enough to return my brain power. The next thought brought a small, mirthless smile to my face. Brains were anti-solar-powered.

After the camp had been fully set, we were once again let out to relieve ourselves. The two children seemed to have been unable to contain themselves, and smelled terribly. I felt such deep sympathy for them that I’d likely have shed a tear or so if I’d had any fluid left in me to do so.

The teenager in our cart did not respond to any poking and prodding, and the men argued about whether to ditch him or not. Without conscious thought, I butted between them and him, and stuck my chest out forcibly. “Leave him for me. I’ll keep after him. If he dies you can take him and leave him.

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