The hull of the plane lay on top of the sand, broken and tilted to one side. One of the wings had buried itself when the craft came down, and it acted as a shelter for the survivors of the crash. Fabric had been stretched across the leading edge of the wing to provide shelter from the wind and the ever-present dust. Cushions and padding had been ripped from the seats in the cabin and laid out on the ground as makeshift sleeping pallets for the half-dozen survivors.
Frazier was an ex-marine. In the aftermath, he had taken charge and organised the group. He had set them to work assessing the injuries, creating the camp and inventorying their supplies. This flurry of activity had kept the survivors' minds occupied and distracted them from their situation. But, as time passed and the luxury of thought was once more possible, the others had challenged his authority.
"We just think that we shouldn't be staying here." Ash had somehow become the spokesperson for the dissenters. "It's been three days since the crash, and nobody has come to help us." She looked back at the others for support. "If somebody was going to come, they would have by now."
Frazier shook his head. Ash was the kind of person who he hated: someone who wanted to challenge authority, but didn't have any idea of what they would do when they got it. "We should stay," he said. "It's not like there's anywhere else to go, is it?"
""Anywhere's better than here!" called out Jenks, one of Ash's supporters. Frazier ignored him and stared at Ash, waiting for her reply.
Ash shifted uncomfortably. "We don't all have to go. But surely we'll increase our chances if some of us go looking for help. If we find somebody, then we can bring them back here; if somebody comes here, then they can come after us."
"Alright." Frazier gestured at the desert landscape. "If you want to be in charge, then tell me which way we go? You don't have any idea where we are. You don't know where anybody else is. You're completely lost. Come on. Which way do we go?"
Ash surveyed the horizon. From here, the sand dunes stretched into the distance, only to vanish in the haze of dust that seemed to hang permanently in the air. There was no way to tell what lay beyond; no way to know where they might find what they needed. She looked down at the sundial, noting which way the shadow cast by the gnomon fell.
"So?" Frazier asked.
The weight of leadership had fallen onto Ash's shoulders. "That way," she said, and pointed.
