It's a gorgeous day.

  It's not everyday the desert has a nice overcast. Dark clouds are swirling overhead, and the stormy atmosphere is something I unironically love. It's warm but not too hot under the summer rain clouds and the gusty winds. Stormy weather just makes the whole state feel like it's taking a giant sigh of relief from the normally overbearing summer temperatures, and the heavy smell of creosote bushes is so pleasant I just can't seem to take deep enough breaths to satisfy. Being out in nature is always a treat to me, especially so on such a beautiful day like this. Even more so with the company I keep.

  Everyone. Everyone who is someone to me is on this quail hunt wandering through the desert to kill little birdies. My dear sister to my left, wearing an unsuitable outfit like she's going to run to the office at a moment's notice. My friends beyond her, those who I grew up with, and those I met throughout my life, from games or work. Most of them have never met each other before but they all talk and jockey between themselves as if they have all been close for years already. Then even beyond them co-workers, mentors, teachers. The people who granted me the knowledge to get by in life, who gave what they could to see me succeed. I don't think I ever gave them the respect they deserved despite their kindness.

  To my right Mia hovers so near that a stray swing of my arm might hit her, and I have to be conscientious of how I'm walking because of that. It's actually a bit uncomfortable. My parents trail behind her, uncharacteristically not yelling, at me or each other. Mias friends are farther down that line, walking and talking as normal, though I feel like I catch a few guilty looks thrown my way occasionally when I look back. Even beyond them walk some bad teachers, a shitty boss and someone who hated me at work, I never thought much of him either.

  We trek through the desert, almost shoulder to shoulder, eyes peeled to try and spot the well camouflaged birds. I clutch Freya and keep the meandering pace. I'm the only one in the line with a gun so I try to stay extra vigilant. The sound of the hard ground crunching under my boots, sounds almost booming in the quiet of the open country, though thankfully it seems the wind might mask the worst of the noise. Everyone walking makes a different sound, my sister the clack of heels on hardwood, my friends sound like sneakers on asphalt, Mia walks as if wearing socks on carpet. Everyone is holding a conversation with someone, be it their walking neighbor or shouting questions to someone else in the line, the exception is Mia who is as silent as her footsteps.

  Something in me feels like I should be bothered by the noise, this is a hunt afterall, though for whatever reason I don't mind the cacophony. With the weather and everyone being around I suppose the hunting part of the trip is secondary at this point, it's just nice being out here and with everybody.

  I soon spot a bird through a bush, it's a marvel the guy hasn't gone to ground between the weather and the noise we all make but it won't be but a few feet closer before he starts running so I ready Freya and crouch walk quickly as I dare to get a better shot. As I do I feel the rain finally break free from the clouds, just a beginning few drops heralding the start to a desert storm. I find a spot and take aim before the quail can flee, shouldering Freya and beading the bird in front of me. As I squeeze the trigger and ready to fire the wind picks up and blasts a cloud of dust into my eyes and I flinch, firing birdshot feet away from the target and becoming temporarily blinded

  “Damnit!”

  I shout into the gusting wind as I blink and wipe the dust from my watering eyes. That was likely to be the last chance at a bird for the day so I turned toward the group I left behind.

  “Lets head back to the truck, it’s gonna start raining and i doubt we’ll find anything else to shoot at today.”

  As I finish clearing my eyes I look to the line of friends, family, and acquaintances I ran ahead of only a moment ago and find nobody there. I look left, then right and only see desert and rain clouds as far as my vision ranges.

  “Hello?”

  …

  “Guys?”

  …

  Nothing.

  …

  No one.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  My spine chills and something in my mind screams at me ‘RUN’

  I oblige.

  I run.

  I run without thought. I run through the empty desert. I run as the clouds darken even further and begin their downpour. I drop Freya so I can run faster. The wind picks up, now blowing warm raindrops into my face as I start heaving with exertion. The sun dips behind the horizon and now I can only see feet in front of me. I run into bushes and trip over dead wood and rocks but I can't stop. I feel it. If I stop running something terrible will happen. I can feel it inches behind me giving chase. I can feel the cold following me, scraping my spine and chilling my body as I flee. My clothes soak quickly from the rain and I wish I could stop for only a moment so I could strip the sopping burden clinging to my skin. I feel my boots loosen, and after a few unsteady steps they fly off my feet into the darkness. I keep running. It's almost caught me. As I run for my life I feel my feet numb, and melt away in chunky globbing red droplets. every pump of my legs flinging more and more of myself away into the darkness surrounding me. It's not long before I've tripped and fallen painfully onto my front, my melting legs trailing behind me, but I keep myself from looking, afraid of what the mutilation will look like. Afraid of what has been running me down and if it is watching. I crawl. Blindly reaching out before me and grasping anything to pull myself forward. Away from it. The ground is muckey from the rain and slips under my frantic grasping, but I feel myself moving so I keep crawling frantically through the mud and bushes. I stab my hands on the harsh plant life of the desert and leave long cuts down my body as I pull myself over the sharp bark and through thorny bushes.

  I feel a hole in the ground, a burrow, and I throw myself into it, hoping for the safety of shelter. It feels like I'm a dishrag being wrung out as I fall deep into the burrow. Like my bones are being turned to liquid the farther I fall into this pitch black hole. As soon as I hit the floor my body painfully pops back to solid.

  I heave, my breathing is raspy and I feel more drained than I have ever felt in my life. But I'm okay here. I don't know why but for now I'm safe. I sit up on my elbows and stare down at my legs. Or I would if they were there. There is nothing under the lower third of my thighs on either leg, just torn jeans soaked in rain and blood hanging loose on the ground. I simply stare and try not to think about the gushing wounds torn down my chest. A crimson pool blossoms around my body as I lie there.

  Movement draws my eye, and out of the pitch black a jackrabbit lopes carelessly into my sight. He spots me and turns his head away to stare at me with one eye, positioned as if ready to dart back into the black. He soon lowers his guard and continues moving toward me. He stops at the edge of the pool of blood surrounding me and bows his head to drink, staring at me as he scoops tiny pools of my blood into his mouth, until soon it stains around his muzzle, and drip trails down the rabbits front. He stops drinking and stares at me again.

  “You aren't dead you know.” the Jackrabbit says to me in a ghostly voice.

  “I could be, what do you know?” I replied.

  “You aren't dead but you will be. It's watching you, as it does all living things.”

  “What is?”

  “You must accept your fate.”

  “What fate?”

  “Whatever life you had is gone. Move on.”

  “Why should i?”

  “Move on, accept that you will never go back.”

  “...”

  “Accept you will never go back, or be devoured.”

  “Accept your fate or be devoured.”

  “Devoured by the world itself.”

  As the Jackrabbit finished talking, a violent earthquake begins, I look up at the opening of the burrow, and see chunks of earth and dirt fall from the entrance. I look back and see the jackrabbit flee back into the dark.

  I start climbing, grasping at the earth just as desperately as before, clawing to bring myself inch by inch closer to the entrance before the earthquake of massive proportions seals me in this churning grave. The dirt burns like acid as I get closer and closer to the entrance, i see it melting the skin on my hands and eating away at the sinew, but I climb on all the same trying to use the pain as fuel to push me further and faster to escape. knuckle by knuckle digit by digit my fingers fall away with every violent spurt of the earthquake, and soon I resort to simply jamming my now handless forearms into the dirt to get purchase and leverage my body onward. I'm down to the elbow as I finally wrench myself over the mouth of the pit and sigh as I rest my head in the mud and stare up into the rain.

  The earthquake picks up and it's all I can do to give a damn, but I try to crawl farther away from the pit for fear of falling back in. The wind has reached hurricane speeds though and as I try to move it catches me and whisks me into the air. I twist and tumble through the air, unable to see what's above or below me. The rushing torrent sucks the breath from my lungs and I suffocate. The whipping wind strips the flesh from what's left of my body, I'm being torn apart piece by piece.

  …

  It feels like eternity, but eventually I feel myself crash back into the dirt. The storm is over.

  Not only is it over but it's as if it never happened. It's noon, the sun is high in the sky, shining on the bone dry desert floor, and I'm a chunk of meat cooking on it. The heat is not only coming from above but the ground itself is so hot that it may as well be a frying pan. I sear and my face melts into the ground. That's all that's left of me now.

  I look up into the grey eyes of a dead bull.

  “First time?” he says to me.