The Trail

Chapter 10 | In the headlights

The moon, which was almost full, illuminated the desert with its cold light. The path before us reminded of an extraterrestrial landscape as the night had settled over the land. Stars had reappeared over the sky, which made it look as if someone had used a paintbrush to splash colour onto a dark canvas, creating a sparkling galaxy over our heads.

Perhaps the universe was a place for all souls lost. Or, perhaps, it was there to mock us with its immortality, to tell us how fragile our lives were compared to its superior infinity. As I dropped to my knees of exhaustion, I figured that the answer was most likely yes. Juniper, who's black fur reflected in the moonlight, turned around to look at me. I saw worry in her amber eyes as she approached me. Just before I lost consciousness, my stiff hand lost the hold of her leather leash.

* * *

I dreamt of blood and drought, of water that turned to gold and of cold hands grasping for me through ferocious, red fog. Voices spoke through faceless phantoms, their whispers floated through the air as they took the shape of twisted, abominable creatures. Yet, I found them riveting. They spoke in words that I could not understand, but as time passed, I became familiarized with their ancient tongue. They wished for me to come with them, to join them in their realm. The more time spent amongst the whispers in the red fog, I felt myself changing.

I found myself in a hall of mirrors, screaming as I met my contorted reflection. My face, no longer recognizable, had turned dark and twisted like an old oak tree. My chest had sunk in and my ribs, replaced by driftwood, escaped through my grey skin. My fingers were long and my legs dislocated as they turned and twisted.
Red, raging fog broke through the cracking glass. In thick streams, it found its way through my gaping mouth and empty eye sockets. It consumed me, devoured me from the inside. All I saw was a twirl of red, before it all turned dark.

* * *

Somewhere in the distance, I could hear the roar of an engine. My face laid flat against the ground, pressed against the grit's rough surface. The stainless steel of the gun, still being clutched by my right hand, reflected in the moonlight. The sun was slowly rising above the horizon, leaving the moon with the final breaths before dawn.

Then, there was that sound again. Like a buzzing mosquito in my ear, it persistently kept me from falling back asleep. Annoyed, I used my left arm to raise myself. I turned around so that I sat with my legs stretched out in front of me. I realized that my backpack laid a few metres away from me, and as I looked around the flat, open landscape I felt like something else was missing.

"Juniper!", I called, as my memory decided to return from its daze.

There was no sign of her. Instead, my eyes were drawn towards the headlights headed towards me with increasing speed.

"Shit", I cursed as I got on my feet.

There was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. I felt like a lost deer in the headlights. Nor was there any sign of my dog, which at the moment nearly troubled me more than the red, rusty vehicle that stopped in front of me, surrounded by a cloud of whirling sand. It found its way down my respiratory system, forcing me to cough. Blinded by the lights and gasping for air, I raised my Beretta towards the tall figure that stepped out from the passenger seat.

"I told you there were something out here tonight", I heard the familiar voice of the ginger man.

In the same time, I felt a throbbing to my head before a voice hissed through my ear.

"Shoot him!"

Before another thought had the time to register through my brain, I had pulled the trigger. I heard something heavy drop onto the ground and heard the man curse.

Blinded by the lights, I couldn't see where the bullet had hit him, only that it hadn't killed him. In the same moment, the lights of the car were dimmed before the door to the driver's seat flew open. I saw the barrel of a hunting rifle being pointed at me. A broad shouldered man, dark to the skin and lacking hair, was the one holding it. I still held my arms raised, keeping the gun in a firm grip as I turned against him.

"Drop it", he said with a deep, British growl.

Before I had the time to act, I felt something heavy thrown against my side. The tall, ginger man had tackled me to the ground. The gun slipped away from my fingers, only to pathetically slide over the ground and out of reach. I tried pushing the man's body off of me, but he had the weight of a rhino, leaving me defenseless. I noticed his right arm hanging limply against his side with blood seeping through his shirt by the shoulder.

Then, I felt a blow to the side of my head as he landed a punch with his left fist.

"Fucking bitch", he yelled, leaving a cascade of saliva on my face.

Before I could wipe it off, I was struck by another blow that left my head spinning. In vain, I fought to get up as the man stepped of me.

"Load her into the ute", he grunted as he bent down to pick up his rifle that he had dropped when the bullet had hit him.

Before I passed out, I hoped Juniper was okay. Hopefully, she was just off hunting a rabbit.