Crimson Skies

Part 35 - Halfway Mark

As the Black Army puzzles into view, appearing as if teleported there, one by one, through the mirage, the sun turns cold. The runaways blink almost believing their eyes deceive them.

             “Walk back?” Sarla turns to Dyle with frightened eyes.

            “And get trapped between the half-way mark and home? There is too much distance behind us to escape them,” Dyle replies through clenched teeth, annoyed by their lack of options.

            “Look, the mud is still hard; the sun hasn’t taken its full heat yet,” Aila says, pointing to the ground and then starring up at the sky. “We left the tunnels in the walls a few hours ago. Spider demons won’t come this far out, so they can’t point us out. Sand demons are dormant for now. We have the sun behind us, there is no way the army can see us yet. Let’s hide again.”

            “Again? Isn’t this getting a little cowardly?” Jex asks.

            “If I didn’t need you for the rest of this journey, I’d punch you in the face again,” Dyle snarls, turning to him. “We aren’t heroes, we aren’t even brave. We are runaways. Come to accept it and stop playing at something we are not.”

            Jex steps forward, biting his lip in anger. Dyle meets him in the middle, holding his irate gaze.

            “Boys, boys, stop it,” Aila pleads, pulling on Jex’s arm. He shakes her off, not backing off Dyle.

            Sarla slips between them, gently pushes each one back, and then says in a calm voice, “The right side has a line of boulders along the canyon wall. The halfway mark can’t be more than a splits cycle’s walk. If we get passed them, even if they see us on the Other Side, they can do nothing.”

            Dyle lowers his green eyes to hers. “Then we better get moving.”

            Jex shakes his head, clearing the scowl from his face and hurries after the others. Between the wall and boulders is a narrow path they race down. The boulders are at varying heights and distances apart. Some, they need to crouch low to the hard ground to keep from view, others they can stand up right. Just like darting from house to house at the City, here they scurry from boulder to boulder, drawing ever near the army and, more importantly, the halfway mark.

            Boots break bonds of clay. The rhythmic army is within earshot. Each hard step fractures the solid red, allowing soft red sand to spill up over the cracks. The army marches in silence. Though they seem to have their gaze fixed ahead, the runaways know how observant they are.

            The runaways, just meters from their point of safety, stop moving, crouch behind a boulder as the army streams passed just on the other side of their rock.  They wait in absolute silence for what feels like hours as the extensive army passes.

Finally, the last steps fade from hearing, the crushing of clay into sand stops tingling inside their ears and Dyle rises slowly. The army strides away, backs to him.

            He ducks down and in a hushed voice urge them on. The runaways leopard crawls towards the halfway mark. Dyle pushes Sarla in front of him and hurries her along. As the hard mud grumbles to sand beneath their weight, it is tougher to crawl through. Sarla in front has no troubles gliding over the clay. But Aila at the end, worms through sinking sand, falling further behind the others.

            Sarla slides over the halfway point and stands up, pulling Dyle up towards her. As jex rises next to them, he watches them kissing and averts his eyes. Brown eyes look out back the way they came and rest of Aila, still crawling through the sand.

            He shakes his head, almost lovingly, he will admit. She is always last. He watches her with a small half-smile on his lips. Then his brown eyes darken and the smile falls. “Aila! Watch out!”