straight into a nest of camel spiders, the repulsive arachnids creeping over his body. Even more frightening, Wallace entertained the thought of stumbling upon a landmine. His hand would reach forward into the black, gently coming down on the soft sand in front of him, he would hear a click, and BANG! That’s it.
After about an hour (or maybe two hours, or thirty minutes, Wallace could not tell), Smith stopped and glanced backwards. The base sat as a shape on the horizon, nothing more. He rose slowly.
“We should be fine. Get up.”
Private Wallace brought himself up from the ground, patting sand and dust off his uniform. “Now can you tell me what we’re doing?”
“You’ll see.”
Wallace frustratingly marched on, staying close to Smith. His eyes scanned the horizons, searching for a destination. Soon, he spotted a shadow against the sky. It was small and irregular. Not a town nor another camp but something like a vehicle.
It was the site from earlier. Corporal Smith was bringing him back to the ill-fated archaeological expedition. Everything was as when they had left it, except they could hear breathing.
50