Desert Days

The boy trotted across the desert, breathing heavily from the attack. His little white Keds filling with sand and grit. The blinding white of this world stung against his eyes. Would the grey ever end? Would the sand ever end? He dared a quick peek over his shoulder and realized he was far from where he had fallen. He slowed his pace, then stopped. His breath steamed in front of him. Wait, steam? Not fog, it wasn't cold enough, steam. Warm steam. He passed a hand in front of his face and watched it curl away from his hand. He shrugged and continued walking towards the setting sun.

Near sunset, a couple village roofs peered over a sand dune. Throat aching, stomach grumbling, and legs aching, the boy started to run towards the village. He approached the streets, dust flying.

"Psshhtt!" something whispered. "Psshhtt!"

The boy stopped, looking around. Then he caught a glance of something in a small alleyway. A hooded figure stood, hunched over from the weight of a bundle of sticks.

"Boy! Come help me with 'dese fire sticks!" it whispered.

He stepped tentatively towards her and then ran to her aid, taking a bundle from her back. It all happened so fast he couldn't tell what had happened. A black cowl was wrapped around his face and body and he was being carried away, quickly.