07-27-2015, 07:24 PM
It had been a couple of days since they’d arrived at the quiet solitude of the oasis. She’d stayed there an extra night, leaving him by their camp so that she could hunt for more meat in the dunes. He’d dined on some strange type of lizard he’d never seen before. Today was, supposedly, the day that they would be leaving for camp.
“Are you ready?” Nat asked him, as she fitted the last few bits and baubles of her armor back onto her legs. He only nodded; in truth, he was far from ready to leave. He wanted to stay here for at least another few months. Even without Nat around, it seemed as though he could make a good life out in this place, at least until Grey showed up…
But that assumes that Grey will show up, he reminded himself. He had no concrete way of knowing whether or not his friend was dead or alive, much less in the same strange place as he was. He brushed back his hair, letting the shoulder-length blond strands fall where they may. This was not good.
“Ron?” Nat asked, coming over to him. “You still with it? The sun hasn’t fried your brain, has it?” She joked. Ron became aware of her talking to him—noticed her on the periphery of his contemplation—and turned to face her. “What?” he asked, confused.
She smiled, and offered him some advice: “You think too much.”
Her hood wasn’t raised yet, and Ron could see the green in her eyes. It looked like the gentle water of the oasis. “Right,” he said back, “sorry. What were you saying?” She shook her head a little, raising the straps of her rucksack up and over her shoulder. “Nothing much. We’re just headed out, is all. So, you know, grab your things.”
Ron took hold of his coat, shaking off the sand, and slid his arms through it. Nat was already walking when he turned back around. He ran to catch up to her. ‘
“So, we’re headed that way?” he asked her.
“Sure are. We’ll be there before the end of the day. After that, I put you in a slave roster and wait for somebody of questionable character to buy you.” She paused for a moment. “Then, well. I guess I’ll never see you again.”
He could hear a pensiveness about that in her voice. He didn’t know what to say to her.
She spoke again. “I think I’m going to put you in the high-profile roster. Your training as a surgeon would make you a valuable member of a Prime’s team. If I could get one of them to purchase you, anyway.”
He continued to say nothing. Her own musings dwindled down; perhaps she realized that it was not pleasant conversation. She didn’t say much else after that.
A few hot hours of trekking later and he could see it. Over the horizon, like some profane and jagged shrine to misery and bondage. It was a camp of some size, centered around a small oasis, just as the hiding place had been. Ron imagined that a place of this size would require many more oases than these to adequately support any real population. What kind of place had he gotten lost in?
She led him at the point of his own gun, walking behind him as they entered the twisted archway that led into the central shanty town. Corrugated metal and old bits of plank formed houses, shops, and more. Ron was amazed at the poverty of this place. He was no place on Planet Earth, if this was how these people lived. At least not the Earth that he knew.
“This way,” she said, snatching him from his thoughts and guiding him to a small shack guarded on either side by men armed with rifles—one of them pristine but for the skein of sand over it, the other a dirty zip-gun made of old bits of pipe, wood, and metal. “This is you until I get you processed and figure out where you’ll be,” Nat finished.
Ron sighed and entered without an argument. It was hot inside—almost as hot as it was outside. The walls of iron, tin, and aluminum radiated with the heat they’d absorbed from the sun. He felt, after a time, as though his sweat had begun to sweat.
He hoped that he wouldn’t be here long, and hoped even more that The Grey Man was, in fact, out there.
“Are you ready?” Nat asked him, as she fitted the last few bits and baubles of her armor back onto her legs. He only nodded; in truth, he was far from ready to leave. He wanted to stay here for at least another few months. Even without Nat around, it seemed as though he could make a good life out in this place, at least until Grey showed up…
But that assumes that Grey will show up, he reminded himself. He had no concrete way of knowing whether or not his friend was dead or alive, much less in the same strange place as he was. He brushed back his hair, letting the shoulder-length blond strands fall where they may. This was not good.
“Ron?” Nat asked, coming over to him. “You still with it? The sun hasn’t fried your brain, has it?” She joked. Ron became aware of her talking to him—noticed her on the periphery of his contemplation—and turned to face her. “What?” he asked, confused.
She smiled, and offered him some advice: “You think too much.”
Her hood wasn’t raised yet, and Ron could see the green in her eyes. It looked like the gentle water of the oasis. “Right,” he said back, “sorry. What were you saying?” She shook her head a little, raising the straps of her rucksack up and over her shoulder. “Nothing much. We’re just headed out, is all. So, you know, grab your things.”
Ron took hold of his coat, shaking off the sand, and slid his arms through it. Nat was already walking when he turned back around. He ran to catch up to her. ‘
“So, we’re headed that way?” he asked her.
“Sure are. We’ll be there before the end of the day. After that, I put you in a slave roster and wait for somebody of questionable character to buy you.” She paused for a moment. “Then, well. I guess I’ll never see you again.”
He could hear a pensiveness about that in her voice. He didn’t know what to say to her.
She spoke again. “I think I’m going to put you in the high-profile roster. Your training as a surgeon would make you a valuable member of a Prime’s team. If I could get one of them to purchase you, anyway.”
He continued to say nothing. Her own musings dwindled down; perhaps she realized that it was not pleasant conversation. She didn’t say much else after that.
A few hot hours of trekking later and he could see it. Over the horizon, like some profane and jagged shrine to misery and bondage. It was a camp of some size, centered around a small oasis, just as the hiding place had been. Ron imagined that a place of this size would require many more oases than these to adequately support any real population. What kind of place had he gotten lost in?
She led him at the point of his own gun, walking behind him as they entered the twisted archway that led into the central shanty town. Corrugated metal and old bits of plank formed houses, shops, and more. Ron was amazed at the poverty of this place. He was no place on Planet Earth, if this was how these people lived. At least not the Earth that he knew.
“This way,” she said, snatching him from his thoughts and guiding him to a small shack guarded on either side by men armed with rifles—one of them pristine but for the skein of sand over it, the other a dirty zip-gun made of old bits of pipe, wood, and metal. “This is you until I get you processed and figure out where you’ll be,” Nat finished.
Ron sighed and entered without an argument. It was hot inside—almost as hot as it was outside. The walls of iron, tin, and aluminum radiated with the heat they’d absorbed from the sun. He felt, after a time, as though his sweat had begun to sweat.
He hoped that he wouldn’t be here long, and hoped even more that The Grey Man was, in fact, out there.