Walking Through the Wastelands

This story has deeper meaning and is a very personal piece for me. I only hope you enjoy it.

The heat was unbearable. Clouds must be unheard of here. The sun was high and it beat down on my tired body. I walked out of my shoes days ago and the sand scalded my soles. I had hoped my clothes would make it until I found my salvation. I suppose it really never mattered if they did. It was No Man's Land. The Wastelands. It was said they were easy to wander into. Most always did. The trouble was getting back out. I was warned even in my childhood: Most come here to die.

I was determined. I would make it back out. In the day it was easy. The Predators here did not hunt in the day time. Though I should have already been dead from my lack of nutrients, water and food, I did not hunger and I did not thirst. It was strange, but I never questioned it. I simply kept walking.

Night always seemed to fall too quickly. The last night was the worst. It was as if the Wastelands knew my end was near. They began the fight early. When the sun sets the temperature drops quickly. The Predators come at the same rate. You can hear them. They growl and howl and slither and scream. In that place there was nowhere to hide. There was no eluding them. They could smell you. Your fear. Your desperation. It was what drove them to you. No stoic had ever trodden through the Wastelands, and none ever would. They were strong enough to miss the entrance. Only the weak ever find this place.

The Predators there were not something you could imagine. They were something out of nightmares and sci-fi movies. Horrible to behold and worse to encounter. It was a rare night that I did not have to defend myself. On that night, when the sun had sunk below the surface of the desert sand, it began. They staggered from the shadows, panting hungrily. The Predators on that particular night were something like werewolves, if I must compare them to something. They were full of dirty hair and could stand on the hind legs to walk if they chose, but I found they usually ran full speed on all fours. The faces were more human with ears something like an elf, all covered in hair. Their large eyes were black and sunken into their skulls, but they had a tendency to glow red on occasion. They spoke in a cold, harsh, deathly rattle.

Not unlike most nights their orb-like eyes were fierce and their mouths somehow curled to bare the twisted yellow teeth in a sinister smile. You could hear them whisper: "You're mine tonight." There were no weapons to be found here. You had your body and willpower. The Predators continued toward me, their eyes fixed on an easy meal, or so they thought.

One lunged and I planted my feet, ready for the blow. It took me down quite easily. Its mangled claws ripping through the flesh on my arms. My screams were all it took for the others to advance. I brought my knee up hard sending the beast on top of me soaring and as I rolled over I was face to face with the rest of them. They laughed and circled around me licking their mouths in anticipation. I balled up my fists and, as they started in, I began swinging violently at them. The smell of sweat and filth and blood rose. In a lucky shot, I felt my hand plunge deep into one of their mouths. I uncurled my fingers only to wrap it around the tongue and rip it from its stinking throat. It howled in agony and rolled backward gagging and coughing on its own blood. Suffocating slowly. It gave me the advantage I needed. The others seemed slightly off-put, surprised. They hesitated. I stood quickly and brought my foot down hard upon another's skull. I heard it crack. It would be out for a long while, I knew. It became my weapon. I lifted the unconscious body and swung it around me, knocking back a majority of the Predators. They stood staring, not at me, but at the heavy body of their accomplice. I had made it the weakest in the vicinity and the Predators were now interested in the easiest meal. I spun quickly again and released it, sending it over a small dune. They went running for it and I collapsed, wasted and worn.

I lay there panting, gasping for air as I closed my eyes. It was just another night I managed to survive. I played through the brawl in my head. I was proud of what I had accomplished. I was getting stronger, and I knew if I could become stronger I could make it out. While in my reverie, I did not notice the sound of the heavy body dragging across the sand. I didn't hear it as it drew near me. I only felt a bulky appendage press against my chest. Almost dead weight. I tried to sit up, but it was too much. The Predator managed to raise its head above mine. Its mouth was still bleeding profusely from the damage I had done. Though it had no tongue I could still make out what it whispered in my ear before its foreboding death: "You will still die." It crumpled and the rasping breath stopped.

I picked myself up. I was shaken, but I knew I needed to find a place to sleep. Fast. I walked briskly and began digging my fox hole. In theory, sleeping in a hole in the desert sand wouldn't be the brightest idea; however, it never seemed to slip over me and it was rare that Predators could sniff you out here. In the Wastelands nothing appeared to make sense. I lay looking at the stars until I fell asleep, that voice still whispering: "You will still die."

The early morning sun beat down hard on my eyelids. It seemed to come as fast as dust the day before. My body ached as I stood and climbed out of the burrow I had made. The remnants of my clothing were shredded and my wounds were now caked with dried blood and sand. I wiped off as much as I could stand and took in my surroundings. Every morning I would pretend to know where I was. I made believe that I knew which direction was which. There was no North Star and the sun never seemed to have a day-to-day pattern. I was lost. That day, I admitted it and I sank to the sand while truly realizing my defeat. My hopelessness. My absurdity. Did I ever think I would have made it out?

Though I felt decimated and worthless I collected myself and began to walk. The further I walked, the further my failure digested. I would never leave the Wastelands. Although I wandered for what seemed like centuries, my corpse would rot here. There was no escaping the conclusion. This place has always existed to encompass the weak, the desolate, the tired, poor, hopeless masses. My presence only made the truth twist painfully in my brackish stomach. It sunk low, lower, lowest and it took a few moments to realize that it wasn't my stomach. I was actually sinking.

I'd heard of the Wasteland Tumble. It was a kind of quicksand, but it came with, not only the pain of suffocation, the pressure of a universe crashing down upon you. Even if I managed to pull myself out now, my legs would be utterly useless. This gambit was reserved for those who had given up. It was for those who let their desperation and sadness overtake them. The pathetic. So I let it take me. It crept past my hips. Every thought I'd ever had of producing a child, having a family, it was over now. I heard the snapping of bone and felt them turn on my insides. It glided over my waist and I regretted ever having worried about my image. One by one, as it tiptoed to my chest and shattered my ribs, I knew what it was closing in on. The one thing I'd always been afraid of. My heart.

It is a fickle, cold thing. A heart. It is eager to love, but easily broken. I had given it away so many times and it betrayed me; therefore, I learned to stop trusting it. For so many years it gave sympathy. Time after time it was taken advantage of, and the sympathy simply expired. Its desires made it greedy and unstable, and long ago I turned it off. I did not need a heart. I could not rely on such a thing, but as the Wasteland Tumble drew near to it, I realized I needed it. I didn't need it to live. That was insane. I was competent enough to know that my death would soon close in whether I wanted it to or not. I needed it to turn back on. I needed to know what it was capable of. I needed to know that I was alive once.

The Tumble pressed against my breasts and a pain I have never felt bore down on me. I closed my eyes and listened. I heard it. I heard my poor, dead heart being ripped from its arteries. Pulled from its resting place. It was sloshing from side to side and it rose with the Tumble. I felt it at my throat. I didn't want it to end like this. What had I become? Slowly, painfully it rose higher, smashing against my esophagus. It was choking me. Everything I did. Everything I didn't do. All the things I wanted. It raced through my head. All I wanted was to be strong. I wanted to be comfortable with myself. I wanted to know that I could get by alone, and now, well...Now I had no choice as to the things I wanted. My destiny was decided. Perhaps that happened a long time ago. Some Higher Being had chosen my end. The Tumble glided over the top of my head. My arms were the only things left at the surface, still making a silly attempt to be free. As the lack of oxygen became overpowering, my eyes began to roll in the back of my head. It was at that moment it happened.

My heart pushed through my mouth with such force that it penetrated the surface. Maybe it was a final attempt at freedom. My body's last cry for help. It was, however, unsuccessful. When it plopped back down it rolled right into the palm of my left hand. That's the moment I felt it, really felt it. It beat. Slowly. I agonizingly wrapped my shuddering fingers around it. I needed it. Even here, I needed it. As I sank to the depths of the Wastelands, heart in hand, all I could think was: Did it ever beat before this?

Reviews

[Natalie C]

Wow Rachel, this was deep, really truly deep and thought provoking to say the least. I am sorry I am left speechless, especially with your ending;
"As I sank to the depths of the Wastelands, heart in hand, all I could think was: Did it ever beat before this?"
What a wonderful way you used to describe the wasteland which I personally think most of us has seen sometime in our lives. Some more than others and some staying much longer than what is really good for them.. Leading to nothing more than an agonizing end, which you described perfectly.
Personally, I could relate to what you have written in so many ways. The daily struggle to survive and the constant battles with your own darkness inside and trust me it can be over powering at times. They taunt you, tire you out until you can't fight anymore, which leads to a person giving up in the end.

Amazing story my friend, I really loved this. Thank you for sharing this personal piece with us.