He clinched his fists out of exasperation. He wondered where he would be able to find drinkable water.
Suddenly, a deep whistling sound crept into his ears. The wind began to rip faster and heavier. The pressure from the wind dove deeper onto his chest. It caused the earth to tremble. The ground shook beneath him. Gravel moved quickly across his path. The wind and sand continued to stir, and then a loud snap of thunder rang throughout the Pines. The brightness briefly covered the sky.
He looked around but saw nothing at first. He was concerned about what was occurring, but he continued to examine his leg. It felt strained from the fall. He cuffed the pants that he wore and then he swiftly jumped to his feet. He peered into the darkness. He could see glowing circles in the distance with each strike of lightening. One set appeared at first; a rattling sound followed.
“Jesse, is that you?” The circles were low to the ground but grew larger and higher with the longer he stared. Then, another set appeared along with another, and then many more. He realized that the circles weren’t just circles. They were eyes. They were auburn in color with jagged lines that resembled tree branches. The branches moved as the eyes moved.
“Oh, shit!” Langston didn’t hang around to get a closer look. He took off, running in the opposite direction. Quickly he remembered that his right leg was injured. He slowed his pace while he grumbled in agony. He wasn’t able to gain much ground.
The more eyes he saw the more he moved. He felt defenseless and surrounded. The noise which surrounded him became louder. It was a combination of wind and a chant.
“Woooo-heeeee! Woooo-heeeee! Woooo-heeeee!”
He pushed through his anguish and hobbled faster, despite the fear tearing at his soul. Heavy-breathing and more swears followed. He looked over his shoulder to ensure whatever was lurking around him was no longer near. He was elevated into the air at this moment, and then thrown backwards.
A gush of an enormous and powerful wind consumed him. His sluggish body hit the ground near two soiled, deserted aluminum trashcans. He grabbed his head in agony, got up on one knee, and then grabbed the lid to one of the cans. He placed it in front of him as a shield. The he began to wield it, while hoping to hit whatever the force was in front of him. To his relief, a broken bottle was also near and under a pile of disposed food. He bravely utilized it as a knife, for it was the only form of a weapon within his reach.
“Who’s there? Huh? What the hell do you want?! Huh?! Come out! I ain’t scared! C’mon!” he yelled as he swung the bottle in the darkness.
As he looked around, he could also see small fires scattered throughout homes in the Pines. Each flame was quickly extinguished, after the commotion. The shadows of people scattering, filled each dwelling.
“Oh! So nobody gon’ help?!”
His windpipe started to close, as a pressure formed around his neck and then his arms. His body was being squeezed, but he couldn’t see anything on him. He yanked and moved as much as he could to break free. The pressure forced him to drop the bottle, and then the trashcan lid was snatched from his fingers. Slowly, sand particles began to form into a person.
Long, lanky arms formed, as he was being held in a bear hug from behind. Another arm with a hand attached, immobilized him by the throat. His windpipe further consumed; oxygen became minimal. All of this happened with the same set of eyes around him. His fear grew. His eyes widen. He tried his best to break free but to no luck. His breath began to escape him.
As sweat rolled down his face, Langston’s eyes widened. He tried his best to break free but to no luck. His breath began to escape him, the more he struggled to break free.
The particles completed their transformation. Once completed, Langston couldn’t believe what he saw. Before him stood multiple beings – creatures. They were tall with body markings. Eight feet in height, some taller. Desert Dwellers! he thought, as his eyes began to focus on what stood before him.
He still managed to squeeze out words, even with the tight grasp around his throat. “Please… please.” He wiggled and shook his legs. It was his best attempt to free himself. One of the creatures spoke but in a language that he couldn’t understand. The creature stood in front of him with his nose practically touching Langston’s body. It grabbed Langston’s face as he tried to look away.
“Ohwo erah uoyo? Ohwo erah uoyo?! Uoyo klawo no dercas dnuorg.”
Another Desert Dweller approached. It had a shapely physique, as well as long braided hair. Hair that was beaded with one large feather hanging from it. Its chest and back were covered with body markings. These markings were grouped like short stories, combined to describe a larger tale.
The sand soldier walked with a commanding presence. Its stare instilled fear into Langston’s being. It held a staff with tribal markings in its hand with a sharp spear on the end. The glare of the spear reflected on Langston’s face. The creature walked at a slow pace; its subordinates formed two parallel lines. They bowed at the presence of their leader.
Langston swallowed deeply as he looked at the soldier. The sand soldier examined him before placing the tip of the spear on his Adam’s apple. The blade pierced him enough to cause a small drop of blood to travel down his neck. Its presence filled every corner of his eyes. A thunderous roar pierced the ears of everyone present before the Desert Dweller could speak.
“Evaelo miho ebba! Evaelo miho ebba!”
The Desert Dwellers dropped him without hesitation. They lifted their spears and form a battle stance. Left leg forward and bent, right hand held their staffs over their left forearm. More Desert Dwellers appeared at the sound of battle formation: a thunderous stomp and alignment of feet and bodies. Back to back, chanting once more.
Langston fell to both knees and crawled to the closest cover. It was behind several bags of trash, piled high enough to hide him. He looked between the cracks; a mountain of waste. He stayed perfectly still at first, as he watched on – shocked by what he saw.
Peace Within the Light
The man with the scar snored deeply, so much so that he woke himself. After scratching his groin, he reached to the side of his bed for ale. Yet, he noticed that it was missing and grew frustrated. He smacked his lips before he walked to the front of the station. He was oddly concerned about Langston’s whereabouts.
“Told that boy sun-up,” he grumbled, “shit.”
Traveling in the Pines at night was not recommended. Most who wandered into the darkness never made it out in one piece. There was something about the dark that messed with your mind. Many things lurked; the seen and unseen. The man with the scar had seen it all.
There was only one direction Langston would go, and that was toward the walls of Hock City. So, the man in the scar followed in that direction. He walked along Highway 99 as if he owned it, with poise many didn’t possess in the wilderness. He kneeled at the nearest sight of sand, and rested his shotgun on the ground. He grabbed a handful of the sand, rubbed it around in his palm with the tips of his fingers and then released it. He spoke softly as the smooth particles fell from the crevices of his hand: May the flower of peace and light protect me.
He walked swiftly, his pace fluid like the wind, as if he glided across the pavement. He felt that he was close to his destination; no more than a few yards from Langston’s whereabouts. He sniffed the air. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the environment to which he was immersed. A calming effect. Moments later, a loud but distant thrash rang throughout the Pines.