Drought



  DROUGHT

  By Martin Reed

  Published by Martin Reed

  Copyright © 2012 Martin Reed

  All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magnetic, photographic including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author.

  DROUGHT

  6:00 am

  The desert: an endless cycle of death; permeating death. Everything simply ceased to exist under its predatory watch: Humans, animals, plants, trees, shrubs, water.

  Confidence.

  The desert was a stratum that awaited the victim, observing its prey closely with lustful eyes as he or she stalked onwards, towards inevitable doom. Such was the way of its unforgiving domain. It made a mocking habit of reducing the strongest wills to nothing more than battered ash before their assimilation into its bowels.

  The morning sun greeted its friend below as the two exchanged an undisturbed mutual silence. They had a job to do, and they would get to it.

  8:43 am

  Cole could feel the sun’s warm rays beginning to intensify. It was only a matter of time before the unforgiving heat wave from the afternoon came calling. He checked his water flask. It was less than half full. At this rate, he’d be lucky to last another full day if he didn’t get out of the sun soon.

  “Mathis, how much water you got?” came the deep, dry voice of the now badly sunburnt Army Ranger. If dehydration wouldn’t kill him, the eventual skin cancer would.

  His taller, darker skinned comrade continued walking ahead swiftly without answering.

  Some time passed before Cole finally lost his patience. “Mathis!”

  His companion finally turned around. “What is it?”

  “I asked you a question.”

  “You just asked me that a few minutes ago.”

  Cole frowned. He did? He couldn’t remember. Spending several days traversing the barren desert could do that to a man. If only he had a wristwatch… it would’ve likely slowed down this slow descent to insanity.

  12:03 pm

  The scorching sun was at its peak as it distastefully mocked the two men while they trudged advertently through the fine white sand. The vast white expanse stretched on as far as the eye could see, repetition taking on a new meaning, as the absence of any form of refuge or shelter persisted. The vivid blue sky loomed overhead, stretching over the entire plane as the two vibrant colors from air and earth meshed together to create a dizzying juxtaposition.

  Cole paused momentarily to wipe a thick bead of sweat from his forehead. Mathis continued to glide ahead soundlessly, almost like a ghost. Cole noted that in contrast to himself, his counterpart appeared far less vulnerable to the desert’s machinations.

  "Mathe," Cole croaked, his throat feeling as rough as a piece of insulation.

  His tight-lipped companion finally paused. “What is it Three-Two?"

  Cole frowned. He couldn’t understand why Mathis insisted on using their call signs. They’d been alone for some time now without another soul in sight. “We need to stop for a second."

  His partner’s face remained phlegmatic—as it had been for the majority of the time spent wandering the arid landscape. "We stop. We die."

  Cole sighed, allowing himself to breathe in the thin, dry air. It served as a reminder—that his predicament was indeed real and not a cruel nightmare designed to rape his waning fortitude. He honestly wasn’t sure how much more of this caustic environment he could take. If they didn’t find a way out of this hell soon… "We're running out of water."

  “Whatever it is you’re trying to do right now, it’s not helping,” Mathis replied sternly before resuming his rhythmic pace.

  Staring up at the blinding sky in exhaustion, with his porous face excreting moisture like a trickle fountain, Cole could feel the brilliant but unforgiving golden rays burn the back of his scabbing neck to an unrecognizable bubbling brown crisp. His desert camouflage boonie hat could only protect so much. If only he had salvaged one of those turbans or cowls the locals here wore so frequently. When he was first deployed, he’d laughed at the sight of them but now he would’ve gladly even sacrificed some of his precious water for a little extra cover from the intense heat. It was unfortunate he’d failed to grab something during the ambush. Of course, during that hectic firefight, survival had been the only thing on his mind.

  But now, for the first time since the incident, he was left wondering if he’d made the right choice to stay alive… Was the extra lease on life worth it if it meant spending the waning days of his life in this miserable barren landscape? But no, he thought, he couldn’t think like that, because at the very least, he’d saved Mathis. That alone made it worth it. Right? But then, how come Mathis had never once thanked him for pulling him out of that ambush and to safety? Was he really that callous or aloof? Or maybe he was ungrateful that this was the alternative to being dead.

  Watching his companion move ahead further, Cole sped up to keep pace.

  1:13 pm

  "You know… I think I’m starting to understand,” Mathis said casually, breaking the lengthy silence.

  “Understand what?” Cole asked, working hard to keep his tongue moistened by swallowing repeatedly. Every time he did however, it proved to be more painful than before as his tongue clung to the top of his gums. If he only he could drink a little… But no, he’d promised to conserve his water more wisely.

  “At this rate, we have to accept the fact that it's not likely either of us will make it,” Mathis said.

  “What?” Cole stopped with a frown. “What the hell are you talking about?” It hurt to speak.

  “No big deal.” Mathis shrugged indifferently. “Just thought I might as well get that out in the open." His words came out poignant but low, barely audible in the dry weather. They reverberated through the air, almost appearing to anger the fragile tranquility of the hushed environment.

  “Shut your damn mouth and keep walking.” Cole’s piercing eyes glared bitingly at his counterpart. "We’ll make it," he said with assurance that bordered on hesitation.

  “I’m just sayin’ you know? We should be ready for anything just in ca—”

  “Maybe if you shed some weight!” Cole yelled angrily. Truthfully, he couldn’t comprehend how Mathis was capable of walking with all his gear still in tow. While he’d ditched his backpack and other unnecessary equipment miles back, Mathis insisted on carrying everything with him, down to the archaic radio unit.

  “Just in case,” he’d said.

  But Cole couldn’t find any logic behind carrying the cumbersome device protruding out of the bulging backpack. It had yet to establish any communication with anyone over the past several days and Cole didn’t bank on it happening any time soon. “Comm’s still down?” he asked sarcastically, feeling heavy enough as it was.

  Mathis seemed to sense where this was going. “I’ve told you before; I’m not getting rid of it. It’s our only shot at staying alive.”

  “Not if it means dying of dehydration first by having to drag all that extra weight around.”

  “It’s not your problem. I’m the one carrying it.”

  The comment didn’t sit particularly well with Cole. “If you got something to say, just say it already. I’m sick of your backhanded remarks.” He was tired of Mathis’s ungratefulness, how he constantly exuded this air of arrogance, as if he was better than him despite the fact that it was he who’d saved his life.

  Mathis smirked for the first time. “You’re trippin’ already? We’ve spent way longer durin’ training outside in the Mojave.”

  “This isn’t the Mojave asshole. This is fucking Iraq. Instead of planes flying by car
rying passengers, we got our own beamriders waiting to drop us and then later chalking it up to a tragic case of ‘friendly fire’.” Cole’s dry throat burned now, as if he’d ingested sand.

  “It’s not even that hot out,” Mathis noted, his own sunburnt face a mixture of dirt, sweat and soot. “Yesterday was worse.”

  “Shut up already would you? I’m sick of your goddamn shit!” Cole furiously moved past Mathis, continuing on ahead.

  1:37 pm

 

  Wiping several beads of sweat away, Cole stumbled for a second before pausing for breath. “Damn this bullshit…”

  “Afternoon’s just gettin’ started Three-Two,” he heard Mathis say from the side.

  “Goddamnit…” Cole growled. “I should’ve just let you die back there if I’d known you’d be such a headache.”

  Mathis smirked again. It was beginning to unnerve Cole. “Is that what this is about? You want me to act grateful?”

  “A simple thanks would do,” Cole spat, coughing violently in the process. It now felt like several unforgiving insects had settled within his throat.

  “I’m not sure you really saved me from anything.” Mathis glanced around. “Getting shot to death would’ve probably been preferable to this.”

  “Why don’t you go do that then?”

  “I will when we’re both ready,” Mathis replied callously.

  Hunched over, Cole shook his head in confusion. “Fuck off… Why