“Holland,” I heard the dull echo of a voice. “Holland!” it was much clearer this time. I suddenly became aware of a hot, sweaty hand on my shoulder. It shook me back and fourth. The vibrations jolted my eyes open, and I screamed in pain as the flesh in my back seemed to tear apart, then reform, only to tear again.
I looked up at Ralden; his desert camo vest was torn, exposing his muscular arms, covered in sand. The sight of his bloody forehead threw into a series of fits as I remembered the horrifying experience that took place last night.
We were Navy Seals, flying across the Sahara, when our planes engine exploded. My squad had been sent to take out NUN, the boss of a big drug dealing organization. As we flew in our private jet, cruising at 20,000 feet; it started. First, a strong wind, wrenching our aircraft and causing all the unsecured items to pitch toward the left side of the plane. One of our three parachutes got stuck on the ignition switch and it opened, blinding us, just as the engine’s gas supply was cut off. McDonald fought through the rough canvas chute, and turned the plane back on. Ralden leveled the plane out. The altimeter now read 3,000 feet. When my head finally cleared, I saw a horrific scene out of the windshield, We were in the middle of a sandstorm. McDonald took the controls and angled the plane into the sky, but it was to late. The whole plane shook, and we heard a deafening roar as the right hand engine exploded. The engine had gotten clogged with sand, causing the gas to ignite and explode.
As the plane careened toward the ground, Ralden was hurled toward the wall. He hit his head and staggered back, in pain. McDonald grabbed the two remaining parachutes and threw them to us. The third was ripped when it expanded into our face.
“Here,” he yelled. “Holland, Ralden. Jump!”
“Not without you,” was my gruff reply.
“I think I can land the plane.”
“Even you aren’t that good.”
“JUST GO!”
I strapped the parachute onto my back and, gaining my courage, I jumped.
The sand stung my face like thousands of needles. I deployed my chute about five-seconds after leaving the plane. The jolt made me lose conciseness.
I came to as I mentioned previously.
As I came out of the trance like vision, I realized the luck in the point at which I had landed. I was shielded by a mountain of sand on either side.
Ralden helped me up and we walked, with considerable effort, to the top of the dune, we saw the wreck about 20 yards off. Lying, about five yards from the wreck, was McDonald. He had jumped out of the plane about two-seconds before impact, but it was to late. His body was twisted into a strange position that even the most flexible gymnast couldn’t accomplish.
We sat by his body for two days and, by the end of the second day, we needed food. The plane had water, but it was running low. We needed food, so Ralden and I were forced to do the unthinkable. We were forced to eat McDonald. It was horrible, he saved our life three days ago and he was being devoured because he let us live.
When McDonald was gone, we wandered into the wilderness, hoping for a food and water source. We cane upon an Oasis and drank our fill.
Next to the desert lake were three palm trees. They offered shade from the heat and dates for food. There, we lived for two months. However, Ralden got increasingly restless. One especially hot day, he finally snapped.
It was noon time, at the heat of the day, and I awoke to a fist on my cheek. I hopped up, only to be struck down by another cold-hearted blow. We fought for 20 minutes, until I lay, with a throbbing head, on the sand. It was then that I realized, I had the power to stay alive. I could still win this fight. As Ralden prepared to deliver the final blow, I lay still, preparing for my attack. Ralden’s fist shot toward my head. This was it. I dave out of the way and, with all the force I could muster, I punched him in the nose. Ralden fell back, startled. He tried to sit up but I knocked him back with a well-aimed punch to the head. He blacked out, so I ran, as fast as I could toward a neighboring oasis. That I had just noticed.
After a grueling hour of running I arrived at the oasis. Only to find that the beautifully clear water was a mirage.
Then, I lost control of my body, as Ralden did. I only know I was running through desert. Then, I was digging in the sand. After that, I was lying under the stars, as a 10 year old boy. Finally, I became totally sane. I lay on the sand, in the scorching heat, thinking. “It is unfair that someone like me could come so far, only to die so slowly...”
