Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 180

                What is this place? I have the proof now to say that I have left my world behind. No desert on earth has a night that lasts a second. This world must have a unique rotation, or twin suns. That has to be an explanation.

                Or is this hell?

                The words crawl back towards me again. I try to shake them free but the suspicions are too great.

                I walk on as the extent of the sun’s rays greets me. Now I can see the desert in the morning light. Endless and yellow in all directions. The sky is a single sheet of blue paper over my head. The vultures swoop from over the tree and appear to follow me. Are they waiting? Do they have some sense that I’ll keel over at any second and they’ll have their feast.

                I open my mouth to try and lick some moisture into them. The sting is unbearable as the cracks in them lock together and pull apart. My mouth is as dry as the sand around me and I don’t think I can conjure the saliva to even do that.

                ‘Help!’ I try to call, but my voice is strangled in my throat.

                The vultures caw overhead. I notice a piece of driftwood half buried in the sand. One end is thin and the other thick. I prise it from the dust and swing it like a rudimentary club. I won’t go down without a fight. Particularly not to a bunch of ugly scavengers.

                I reach the bottom of a sand dune and begin my climb.

                I claw at the sand, pushing my fingers as deep as I can to gain some purchase. It burns like a newly lit fire, but after a few inches there is a layer of cold. It offers some relief to my dry fingertips.