The Dune Cure

Chapter 3

Miles runs through a grassy field. The wind blows heavily as he makes his way down a stooping slope. The air is clear, and the clouds are the whitest white. Something completely out of a dream for those who have never been here.

It isn't every day that Miles goes for a run like this. He is approaching his fifth mile and he is starting to feel it. As he slowly jogs himself down from the steep hill, he sees something in the distance. Laying on the ground flat, facing upwards toward the sky. Miles begins to slow down as he advances towards the unknown figure. What can it be? His curious brain wonders. A bag? Possibly. He slowly approaches the figure and eventually comes to a stop. His heart does so too.

This is a body. The body of a human man. Miles bends down and observes the person more thoroughly. He is a slightly older gentleman. And clearly weakened. He puts his hands to his pulse. It is slow... but there. The man's right arm is clenched upon his heart. Miles' medical mind can only presume he is suffering from a heart attack.

Miles looks out through the fields and green grassy slopes. There surely isn't anyone within at least a kilometer radius of them. Bending down on his knees, Miles begins to perform CPR. Chest compressions. His hands push down on the man's chest quickly, a hundred times per minute. He counts the beats in his head.

Minutes pass. The man has still not awakened. Miles gets to his feet and screams for help to the very peak of his lung capacity. He begins to perform further CPR. In his mind, Miles feels he is put in this position to save this man's life. As if it has to be him. Or he can never, absolutely never let this down. Tears run down his eyes as the compressions grow faster. His body feels weak but his beats pick up.

Now breathing heavily. Miles continues to work. He even slaps the gentleman across the face. "WAKE UP!" He cries. "WAKE UP!" As the stakes grow his surroundings overbear the weight of his world. A bright glow in his peripheral vision slowly fades in. He becomes dizzy, a loss of presence. The brightness takes over. He breathes in...

Breathing out, Miles awakes. He finds himself in the scorching heat of the desert. The bright sun gazing down on his weakened body. He slowly sits himself up and observes his current, physical presence. Ah... that's right, he recalls. I'm here. In this hell hole. Miles gets to his feet and in no moments time begins heading south again. What more can he do? He is a lost man on a mission. A mission to death.

Hours pass as he continues to make his pursuit. Taking a sip from his canteen. It felt lighter with each gulp he took. He was running low. Maybe one or two sips left at best. Perhaps dehydration would get to him before any desert pet. He goes on and off from practicing his terrible sand walk. It is a bit too constraining for him to keep at it. Miles preferred just walking normally, looking out at the rising sun.

It is a particularly saturated morning. The glowing orb of light creates a beam of chiseling orange across the desert sand. Miles can even see the spice bits resting upon the slopes. How both fascinating and beautiful it is. How can such a simple, natural thing hold such a pivotal role in Imperial dictatorship and economic ruling? He asks himself. Just a simple dust particle. How silly it is to him. Though he never truly considered that until this very moment. He puts the last sip from the canteen to his mouth, the water touches his lips until he notices an atmospheric change.

Pulling the canteen back from his mouth and to his stillsuit, Miles sees the spice start to quiver with the sandy surface. A small shaking eradicates the surface below him. He looks to his feet, and then to his side. The outskirts of the desert plane reveal something in the distance. A smoky, dust cloud followed by a long stretch of rough skin diving beneath the sand. "Shai-Hulud."

Miles quickly picks up the pace of his feet, running across the surface of the sand as if he has a place to go. As it turns out, he is scared of death after all. Very much so.

As he tries his best to run he can feel the weight of the worm grow closer and closer to him. The shaking surface beneath his feet only escalates. Sand brushes past him in the wind as he tries to cover his eyes for protection. Eventually, he stumbles to the ground. The weakness from the desert sun has caught up to him. All of these little configurations and moving pieces worked up against him to this exact moment.

Miles begins to recall his little life moments. He recalls the dream he had last night. Something taken out of one of his darkest memories. He can see the worm getting closer and closer to him. He has come to accept his fate of death. The dreadful moment was upon him. What was it I was ever expecting? Miles closes his eyes tightly. Blocking out both the worm and the steaming sunlight. I just hope the digestion process runs its course quickly.

The weight of the world before him feels as though it is turning in itself. The worm was very near. This was it...

But still... nothing. Miles slowly opens his eyes. It appears as though the worm made a sharp left turn southward prior to approaching him. But why? How? Almost immediately after Miles' questioning, a sudden force grabs onto his arm. A palm tightly grasping onto him begins pulling him into the thick, skinned surface of the worm. Both the force and weight was enough to give any off-worlder a heart attack. What the hell is happening? Miles could only do two things; question and panic. Is it possible that I am already dead? And this is just all in my head? Miles then looks up.

Out of the dusty, sandy midst, he sees a figure in a tinted mask and stillsuit looking down on him. He is a man that obviously appeared to be high in strength. The man returns his attention southwards. He is clinging onto the surface of the worm with two hooked figures. This must be some Fremem nonsense, Miles mutters in his mind. He begins to grow dizzy with each second. He is about to faint. In fact. He knew it.

His head tilts downwards from his shoulders, He lets out another breath... and then again... he returns to a state of nothing.