Guardian of the Sands

Part 2: Searching

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Alistair whispered to Naasir.

He nodded. "Yeah, I've dealt with the sand crawlers before, I know how to handle them."

Alistair didn't look convinced, but he didn't argue either. Instead, he let out a sigh and added another log to the fire. "You know if we die because of your stupid plan, I'll never forgive you."

Naasir shrugged. "We'll be dead anyway, so does it really matter?"

Alistair grinned, and then stood up quickly. "There's something out there."

Naasir sighed and rubbed his forehead. "And here they are. Fair warning, we're probably going to get knocked-" The rest of his sentence was cut off as a sharp "whish" sounded, and he looked down at the dart sticking out of his arm. "Out." He finished just before falling to the ground.

Alistair's heart was pounding, his eyes searching the dark desert. He could almost see them, but not quite, like chasing shadows and smoke.

He felt the sharp sting of a dart in his shoulder, and immediately began to feel the effects of the drugs coating the tip. He fought the overwhelming fatigue and shouted out at the desert. "Come on! Face me!"

Whish! Whish! Whish! Three more darts embedded in his chest.

He swayed and fell to his knees. Ripping the darts out, he gave one final roar of defiance before falling to the sand. Just before his vision faded to black completely, he saw dark figures materialize out of the night. They were wrapped all in cloth, the only visible part of their bodies pale white lights from where the moon reflected off their eyes.

When he slowly became conscious again, the first thing that went through his head was; "why can't I move my hands?" His question was answered when he opened his eyes and discovered that his wrists were tied together, and lashed to a T shape at the end of a stick.

He winced, his head pounding painfully from the knockout drugs, and then strained his neck back. The other end of the pole he was tied to had a larger T shape where two sand crawlers held onto it in order to drag him through the sand.

He turned his head to the left and saw that Naasir was in a similar predicament as he was. "Naasir." He said as loud as he dared, glancing at his captors to see if they had heard.

Naasir stirred, and then groaned. "My head...forgot how much those sleep darts hurt after you wake up." He glanced around, assessing the situation quickly. "So...looks like our plan is working."

Alistair sulked. "Yes, it's going swimmingly. Let's cross our fingers and hope we aren't savagely murdered."

Naasir shook his head. "Oh no, they wouldn't just murder us."

Alistair raised his eyebrows. "They wouldn't?"

Naasir shook his head again. "Nope."

"Oh well that's a reli-"

"They'd sacrifice us to their gods and then eat us."

Alistair glared at him. "Oh, and that's so much better than murder."

Naasir shrugged. "At least they'd kill us for a reason. That's got to count for something, right?"

"How have we stayed friends for the past seven years?"

Naasir chuckled. "Well you have kind of been stuck with me. You know I was thinking we should stop by a city and start entering you in street arenas. I'd make bets on you, we'd win, collect the cash and free some slaves."

Alistair glanced sideways at him. "Isn't that kind of cheating?"

Naasir grinned. "Not unless we get caught."