Tales from the Wasteland | The Desert of Loss

Chapter 6

Thick crimson oozes from the walls of a long narrow corridor as Rod struggles to find footing. His hands fade into the streaming wall, scrounging for extra stability. He lets out an exhausted groan as he looks down the hall. The hunter has walked the blood-soaked hall too many times to count. I'm running in damn circles. I have to find them. Rod's thoughts reverberate throughout the corridor. The halls seem to pulsate with each thought the hunter has. He grumbles again at his plight, cursing the words he can't help but spew from his mind. Again, the walls rumble, knocking Rod off his feet.

"Keep it together, Rod, remember Gabriel, your mind is a blank page. Your mind is a blank page." Rod takes several calm breaths as he works to release all thought. He centers all concentration on his breathing as he inches to his feet. His mind steadily shifts to a white blank page. With a clear mind, Rod trudges forward, with all hope of reaching the speck of light at the end of the tunnel. Over time, his steps grow heavier as he plods through the blood-puddled hallway for the hundredth time. The odor of copper fills his lungs and attacks his taste buds as the walls rhythmically beat like a heart, secreting more blood. Thump, thump, thump the corridor echoes throughout. Rod stays the course and keeps his mind blank and free, but only for a minute longer. Exhaustion finally takes a toll on the hunter while a simple nugget of thought paints across his empty canvas. Damnit Rin, where are you? The corridor echoes and roars from the words written on the page, and the thumping morphs into a vile shriek. Rod drops to his knees, quickly covering his ears until the cries subside. "I, I don't know how much more I can take." the hunter cries out. The world replies to Rod with silence. He waits a moment before hesitantly lowering his hands. He keeps his mind clear of thought and remains silent, waiting for another onslaught. One doesn't come. Instead, Rod is greeted with a rush of warm air and a voice. Kind and gentle, it replies to Rod's previous question, "let it be a game."

Rod snaps his head over his shoulder and looks back, expecting Enya. He's met with only darkness and a rush of energy as if someone just sprinted past. The hunter reaches for it and cries out, "Don't leave me. I can save you. Just please don't go."

Rod musters what little fuel he has left and pushes through the crimson river. He grunts and moans as the blood gives more resistance. It grips his legs like it has a mind of its own, halting the hunter from giving chase to the voice. "Please, Enya. Don't go, let me help you," Rod cries out again. He doesn't know for certain it's the young girl, but something deep in the pit of his gut is telling Rod it is her.

"You failed us," a voice whispers from behind, stopping Rod dead in his tracks. He turns toward the voice but loses footing and falls into the pool of blood. The stream was only about three feet deep but now feels bottomless like the ocean. Rod struggles to swim to the surface, intercepted by hundreds of hidden hands. They drag him deeper into the bloody abyss. Rod struggles to free himself, but they clasp tighter like a pack of ravenous beasts. He squirms violently, expending valuable air, but finally freed by slipping out of his leather jacket. Rapidly, Rod paddles to the surface, feeling the hands nipping at his boot heels. Flashes of bright light illuminate the surface for Rod as he draws near. That's when he sees it, a mirage of Rin and his family splattered across the red sea. Rin struggles to free himself as Rebecca screams for her husband. The vision snaps over to Strand, who's grinning ear to ear, displaying his yellow-stained teeth. He taunts Rod as the hunter surges toward the mirage.

"Don't give up now, my boy. The party is only beginning," cackles the deranged doctor. Rod lets out a blood-muffled scream as he reaches out for Strand, breaking the surface. Violently, he fights for air while swinging his arms wildly in a desperate attempt to strike the doctor. He keeps flailing about until he knocks into the hallway's wall. Blood cascades down his head and shoulders. He leans forward and spits the metallic crimson from his mouth. "I'm going to fucking kill you. Strand, do you hear me? I'm going to break every bone in your fucking body," Rod yells while searching for sure footing when suddenly another strong gust blows past the hunter, leaving behind the aroma of wood and lavender swirled in fresh mud.