The Dreaming: Dark Star (Book 5)

Wake up call, PART 2

Liran awoke to Imorah screaming.

"Liran, wake up!"

He rolled over, his heart thumping. There was smoke. He stood up, and lost his balance, and fell over the bag on the ground with all the contents strewn about the ground. What the hell is going on? he murmured silently, groggy. Something flashed. He closed his eyes. What....

"Liran, get up! Quickly!" Imorah screamed.

Liran pushed away the thought, the memory, something vaguely... that he'd been falling, or something like that. He forced himself to push the image away and get up. He rushed over to Imorah.

There was a fire, and it was growing. "What the hell," he screamed in his own language.

"Help, Liran!"

Liran froze. He couldn't think properly. How on earth was this happening? He'd been sleeping and now there was a fire. He rubbed his face.

"Do something!" Imorah screamed, stomping on the grass.

Liran started stomping on the grass, but it wasn't enough. It was already a few feet in diameter, and it wasn't enough to stomp on it. They would need at least one more person to stomp it out.

Liran did the only thing he could think of. His suit was sun-proof, so hopefully it was fire proof as well.

He lied down on the ground.

"What are you doing? You can't sleep right now!"

"Move out of the way!" Liran roared, and before she could move, he started rolling quickly into the fire.

Imorah jumped over him and he barely noticed as she fell to the ground, safely, out of his way.

He closed his eyes and rolled over the fire, once, then back, twice. He kept his hands tucked into his armpits. His hair, his face was just on the outer edge of the fire, but it was hot. He held his breath and kept rolling, back and forth. He didn't stop, just kept rolling. The smoke was thick.

"Liran!" Imorah yelled. "Stop, it's out."

But Liran kept rolling, back and forth.

"It's out, Liran. Stop!" She jumped onto him, and landed on him as he rolled onto his back.

LIran opened his eyes and looked in her eyes, catching his breath.

"Stop," she whispered, looking down at him. "Stop. It's out."

Liran avoided her gaze and stared past her up into the sky. Something had changed. He didn't know what had happened, but he felt incredibly angry.

"You're burnt," she lamented, touching his singed eyebrow, and wiping soot off his face. "I'm sorry."

He pushed her off of him and stood up, slapping soot and burnt bits of grass from his suit. It seemed that amazingly, everything was in order. After inspecting himself, he turned to her: "What were you doing?" he asked, ruthless. "What were you thinking starting a fire?!"

She sat, sprawled where he'd pushed her, and looked up at him as he towered over her. "I..." she shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said, and stifled some tears, looking down.

"Ugh," Liran groaned. He felt like hitting her. Her emotions, her tears were revolting to him. His body pulsed with anger, and he wasn't even sure why. "What on earth were you thinking, starting a fire?" he yelled down at her.

She was crying silently, her shoulders shook.

"Agh!" Liran exhaled, and stomped away. He felt incredibly sick of her. Sick of himself. He stooped at the bag and threw everything in and shouldered it. He took the water, and returned to the fire, where she still sat, crying, hiding her face. He poured the water onto the smoking bits, and then recapped the cannister. Then he buckled the cannister to his belt and started walking to Wewe.