The Flask

Chapter eight.

8

   When the woman’s screams woke Ray up he sat bolt upright in the sand. It was early morning, and he looked in the direction he’d been walking in for two days now. He thought he could see something in the distance, so he set a goal to keep it in view and hopefully reach it by nightfall.

    After several hours he began to overheat and had to sit down. There was no shade; no relief from the scorching heat whatsoever. He sat, panted, licked his dusty lips and went through his pockets. He found a pipe, a small pouch of tobacco, some matches, a comb, a knife, and in his inner pocket he found an engraved silver whiskey flask.  He screwed the top off, sniffed it, and thought about pouring what was left in the sand as it smelled most unappealing, but decided to take a drink. It tasted good, so he savoured the two or three mouthfuls that were left and packed the pipe with tobacco. The whiskey had an immediate effect, and his head began to feel light. It felt good. He took off his outer jacket and wrapped it around his head for some sun cover, and then continued to walk while he smoked. He looked at the initials on the flask.

R.C.  

He briefly chuckled aloud at the hopelessness of his situation. When the sun descended behind the hills Ray could see several birds flying in circles overhead in the distant sky. He eventually walked up on two horse carcasses; one appeared to be wild, the other a domesticated animal which was saddled.

 The initials “R.C.” were crudely burnt into the horn.                              

He stood over the animals and studied the letters, then compared them with those engraved on the flask in his pocket. He furrowed his brow in confusion. The acrid smell of rotting flesh made him retch, and he dropped to his knees and heaved. There was nothing in his stomach to come up. He looked at the dead horses; their eyeballs picked out by the vultures, then he got up to continue walking.  One of the vultures sat contently on the saddled horse’s hind quarter waiting for Ray to leave, then went on with its business of picking at the carcass. Ray stopped and urinated into the whiskey flask thinking he might need to drink it later if the situation didn’t improve, then put it back in his pocket and walked into the night until he tripped over something he couldn’t see in the dark.

He landed in a fairly comfortable position, so it was there that he decided to stay and sleep.