"Everything hurts," I sighed, lying back in the sand. I closed my eyes and let the desert breeze lull me to sleep. I had food and a place to rest—at least that's what I thought for a while… I got up, feeling a bit sore, and began to inspect the bodies. I took the canteen from the bastard who'd nearly blown my head off; mine had been smashed to pieces after all that running around, and I still had no water. I approached the rock where the other two lay. I stole the dagger from the first one I killed, and the other was wearing some leather leggings—better than walking barefoot through the desert.
I took the dagger and started cutting, but I felt a chill down my neck… I stood up and looked all around. Right where I'd seen the first one, there were more—and not just a few… about nine of them, and they had the corpse with them, dragging it through the sand.
"Just my luck," I whispered. I waited for them not to see me, but it wasn't that easy.
"Prey!" I heard that in the distance when one of them pointed at me. I started running; there was nothing else to do. There were nine of them and I was alone, and I was tired. They were armed with spears and clubs, and one had a bow, but I didn't notice that at the time.
I started running down the hill, stumbling through the sand, in a mad rush… all I could see ahead of me was an endless desert and a few rocks… as I ran, all I could think was, "Where? Where will I hide?" I was running slower and slower. "Damn it, my legs hurt… Which way?" For a moment I thought about hiding under the sand, but I couldn't hold my breath that long.
"Ah!" I fell to the ground; an arrow was piercing my thigh… I turned around to see what had happened… They were at the top of the sand dune, and one of them had a bow. The bastard smiled at me, and I just got back on my feet and started running again.
"Ah!" An arrow lodged in my back; it didn't pierce through my body, but it made me turn around. About four of them were coming down the hill… the others stayed up top with the archer. More desperate than ever, I ran for my life—or I would die.
"Ah!" A third arrow pierced my lower back. Those bastards were getting closer. I couldn't run much longer. A fourth arrow failed to hit me; I drew strength from God knows where and ran.
My only hope was to escape them. Then I saw a brown cloud in the distance—it was a sandstorm… if I went in, I'd die buried, but maybe I could escape them if I managed to get through it.
"Am I safe? Are they no longer following me? Did they get in?" That was the last thing I thought before I could no longer see anything through the sand. I walked completely blind, covering my face with my right arm. I couldn't hear a damn thing, nor could I see.
A hand on my shoulder… one of them had found me.
"Ah!" That was the only thing I could make out… we started struggling; I managed to shake him off and began swinging my mace wildly. I hit something… I didn't know what it was at the time. I kept swinging my mace wildly while my feet sank into the sand, until something hard hit my face. I passed out.
"Ah! Bru!" I gasped, spat, and coughed. I was buried in the sand; I got up and shook myself off. It was already night; the only thing I could see were the two moons in the night sky. A large red orb and a smaller blue one. I looked around. I had no idea where I was. Those sand dunes with rocky crevices between them were gone.
I wandered lost in the darkness until something looked familiar… I stepped on something.
"Damn it"—I tripped and slammed my face into the sand. I got up and saw what had made me trip; it was a shoe. I crouched down and started digging in the sand. What I uncovered was a foot, just above the ankle. "Me or the storm—who finished you off?" I asked the corpse after digging it up to the thigh.
"Don't waste food," my mother used to tell me when I complained about having to eat Cousin Noék's testicles; we had nothing left to eat by then.
"I'm going to eat you tonight," I said to the corpse before cutting off a piece of its thigh. I sat the corpse down against a rock and began to eat the piece of thigh.
"How are things around here?" I mumbled as I chewed. "A man of few words?" I pointed at him with the steak. "A tough day, I get it. People around here seem really hard to deal with. Lots of that," I pointed at my mace, "and not much of this," I pointed at us, the ones talking. I started laughing with euphoria.
Silence again… I didn't say anything else that night; I just finished eating and lay down, covering myself from the cold with the corpse and some sand. Nobody saw me; it didn't matter anyway. When we couldn't find a place to sleep, we used to lie down all hugging each other to keep warm, and we'd cover ourselves with skins.
The night seemed to drag on and on… I tried to sleep but couldn't, despite my exhaustion and the pain from my wounds. I remembered that deer I'd seen on my way back from the coast. I couldn't figure out how it was even possible for it to be alive… what did it eat, sand? No, there was something I wasn't able to see.
The last time I saw a deer was years ago when I was still very young; that might have been the first time I thought about eating something different. We only hunted others and took care not to be eaten by others. My parents were always together; now I understand my uncle's words about how the worst thing is to be alone. I wonder how he survived for so long before meeting my aunt and my parents. Maybe that's why he was so smart—because of the long time he spent alone in the desert. If only I could remember more of his advice.
In the end, exhaustion made me fall asleep, and I rested.