From the Darkness

9. The Storm

They caught up with the trader before noon. He ambled south, but the sand hadn't covered the tracks of his cart yet. When he recognized the two raiders still stuck with each other, a grin broke out on his lips.

"How's the boyfriend?" He smiled as he accepted the shovel back. He had known it was a fruitless attempt. There was no helping those who got swallowed by the desert.

Wooyoung averted his eyes. He didn't have the energy to argue with another stranger. If his mind got hung up on Yunho for too long, fresh tears welled in his eyes.

San traded the shovel for some canned rations.

"We're catching up to him," was all he said. He respected the distance Wooyoung needed from the topic.

Though the trader could tell why Wooyoung's shoulders hunched so miserably, he had no purpose in mocking them. He sealed their exchange and returned to his cart. The fiery color of his hair was a splash of unexpected joy in the otherwise bleak surroundings.

"A storm is brewing. Best find an overhang for the night," he suggested before he trudged away. San secured his loot in his bag and returned to Wooyoung's side. Together, they blinked toward the dark horizon, where the clouds bundled in threatening mountains. Sand storms could be vicious, so they would do best listening to the trader.

With a hand shadowing his eyes, San sought the far cliffs.

"We won't make it there within a day, but we might duck under the nearby rocks. Shall we?"

Once more, Wooyoung shoved the thought of Yunho's smile aside. He feverishly stared at San's throat wrapped in bandages, focused his every fiber on him.

"Let's go."

The tall dunes carried them toward the cliffs. Jongho snuck behind, but he didn't bother them. How much did he hear? Did any of this knowledge come in his favor? He seemed fond of the duo Wooyoung created with Yunho, but he also accepted San. His secret purpose couldn't be all that selective if he just needed any fighter nearby.

They marched through the day. Occasionally, they commented on their surroundings and ducked past the malnourished coyotes trailing the sand. The fungus didn't halt from any living being. Some of their fur was sickly discolored and sprouted tiny mushrooms as their flesh fouled away.

The holocaust left the world barren. No dangerous radiation lingered in this part, but people were reluctant to return to the life their ancestors led. Though they found once spectacular cities and fathomed inventions and art, a united world destroyed everything. Now that most of the population was wiped out and infested by illness, they preferred sticking to themselves. Few dared to have children in such a damaged world, without an open sky, and with the fungus gradually taking over every living being. San's antidote had been one of a kind. Though the humans shared little communication, the knowledge that no miracle would happen was universal.

Sometimes Wooyoung wondered what was beyond the deserts and the forests. Did people build cities in other places? Where were the descendants of those who survived the war in the grandiose bunkers they discovered buried in the sand?

Now that San was with him and their stories differed despite their similarities, Wooyoung wondered how others lived their lives and what purposes there were outside of having a lover to cling to. If Jongho were less mad, he might have asked him, as well.

When the wind picked up and sand whipped at their cheeks with sharp stings, Wooyoung and San hurried to the nearest assortment of rocks. The storm blocked their view and gathered into hoses beneath the water orbs, threatening all life to scurry. Thankfully, the rocks piled up near the cliffs. Though their hideout had a large opening on one side, Wooyoung found them a cave that covered them from three sides. They huddled down to wait out the storm and once more, San graciously shared his rations with Wooyoung.