Judgment (Tattooed Angels Trilogy 2)

Chapter 4: 928 BC - Hopeless

It took two days before they reached the edge of the sand dunes where not even the scrubland plants would grow. This was the first time Hotan had allowed them to come to a full stop and sleep. There had been no signs of Salah and his army, but at the rate they were going his horses would close the gap in half a day's time. Fatigue was making tempers flare as arguments became a constant occurrence and morale was dropping. Many were feeling the first fits of hunger and the water supply was failing as people went against the advice to preserve it for the sand dunes.

He walked through the sleeping heaps, staring at the faces as his thoughts grew grim. There were so many here that would not make it to the sea with their current physical state. Shoes were failing, many were ripping scraps from their clothes to wrap their blistering and bleeding feet.

I wasn't wrong, I just did not realize none of those faces would ever make it beyond the sea.

Walking onward, he found where Hotan stood alone in the roasting wind, glaring at the dunes blocking their way. His eyes were still disconnected as if seeing something no one else was aware existed. Talib took in the orange waves made of sand, bright against the blue skies; the contrast of in the horizon before him was stunning. The heat swelling out from the landscape was frightening, twisting and distorting the world behind it. He looked down to the tiny shrubs at his feet. Perhaps these were the protectors who kept this malicious desert from reaching their village all these years. Sweat crawled down his forehead, wiping it he looked back to the west. Somewhere over these scorching hills was the sea and possibly their salvation. Several minutes had passed as he observed the taut face of Hotan. Did he even acknowledge him standing there?

I think this was the point in which he started breaking his power apart. Watching my life play out like this, there was no reason for him to even allow us to rest, not with the plans he had for us. The sensation of time pausing, taking a breath as I watched heat wave up off those dunes was all surreal to me. Seeing how tense his expression was, I think this is where he made his decision to follow through with making us immortal.

Hotan's chapped lips parted, "No signs of Salah?"

"None so far," he paused to look again towards where they came from, "But we both know he is following on horseback, he will be on the horizon by morning. What are you thinking, Hotan?"

"I'll give them the night to rest." Giving a mournful look over his shoulder, he was reluctant to continue, "But, no fires. There is enough people here to huddle and stay warm during the night. I fear we will see Salah's dust trail as the sun rises. Again, I'll give those a chance to stay behind or continue across the desert with me. But, it's what happens when we get to the sea, I..."

Yes, that was it. He was hoping only those he needed would cross, but he didn't want to condemn them either. Some part of him had hoped more would make it through to the island, but can I really be angry with him wishing for better odds? If I were standing there, I too would have feigned ignorant too. What do dreams really know about the lives we were responsible for? How accurate could a vision be in the physical world? For my brother, it was painstakingly on point, without fail numerous times.

He watched as Hotan paled and stared back to the west. Hotan's worse nightmare had yet to come true and waited for him some place beyond where they stood. He had lost the ability to speak, his eyes glazing over from haunting visions. Talib could assume he was replaying the prediction in his mind over and over again. Hotan was unable to stop the slaughter and he was running out of time on how to prevent the next prediction.