Chapter 20

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Chapter 20

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In the morning the canyon smolders. Plants wither or hide beneath leafy fronds. I'm not much better off. Sweat beads dot my upper lip and pour from my temples. My clothes mold to my thighs, back, and heavy chest, curling into the moisture.

I'm a smelly, damp dish rag.

I'm already badly dehydrated and I don't think I can lose more water and still function. To make matters even more frightening, the water in my flask barely swishes the bottom now. It won't be long before rehydrating is no longer an option.

There are more clouds in the sky than usual though. They cluster together, forming a foreboding gray shade.

Stomach turning, I think of the soon to come Purification. Could this be my final warning?

My hands tremble slightly.

I rise, using the wall to steady myself. If I'm being honest with myself, I shouldn't even try to. My legs quake nervously and a fiery pain erupts somewhere in my ribs. I holler for a minute, gripping an outcropping of stone so tightly my hands lose color.

I have to do this. If not, death might as well be certain.

Why couldn't my rescuer take me with them?

Is it payback? For sins I've forgotten?

Have I done some enormous evil? What Graduate deserves such a fate as this?

I swear, I've tried my best. Maybe not every moment of my life, or even every day, but I promise, I have.

Perhaps, my best isn't enough.

Maybe this is where it ends.

I shut my eyes as if to shut out the poisonous thoughts that swirl around in the cyclone of my internal shame. Though, the darkness behind my lids only illuminates them. The thoughts act as hands, reaching for the last piece of hope I've retained.

One is distinctly familiar.

One is Cuth's.

I shrink back, opening my lids and letting in the light. My heart escapes me, beating so hard it soars. Shivering, I stumble out of my shelter, into the direct heat. Instinctively, my feet move in the direction of North and as the agony of walking takes over, my thoughts turn to fog—an inseparable mush of confusion.

Good.

I move as fast as the breeze, which barely moves at all. Hunching over, I cradle my ribs to keep the loose one from jostling. The position forces out tears. I crunch down on my lower lip to stifle sobs. With the Purification at my heels, crying will only serve to slow me down further.

It's only when I've made it to where my former hiding place is a distant blur that I realize I'm making progress.

I can do this.

My vision recurrently flashes red and then blurs, forcing me to pause. I lock my knees to keep my balance when bouts of dizziness take over. In these moments, the surroundings spin around me like a playing disc, churning up nausea as I search for a stable focal point.

Sometimes I fall.

It takes so much to keep from remaining in the sands.

When walking really becomes too much, I crawl. The ground provides no mercy. Skin buffs off, leaving behind pink flesh stinging with fresh blood.

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