I can feel the suns rays burning deep in the pores of my skin. It stings. The hairs on my arms smell like charred grass singed on a camp fire. With pores devoid of moisture I itch all over. I've been chained to this post for twop days now. I'm not sure how much more I can take.
Through blurred salty eyes I watch a bull ant scurry across the sand. As it carries a twisted green leaf on its back, it stops momentarily by my foot. I think "shit, that's it then. Death by slow mastication from bull ants." The ant continues on its journey. I wonder if it will bring back others. Despite my dehydrated state I'm sure I'd still make a delicious meal for his entire hoard. His queen would no doubt reward him well for his nutritious discovery.
Light flickers in waves of colour on the sand as the suns rays catch the surface of a water trough. Set a good metre and a half from where I'm chained, the trough glistens and sparkles as a constant torment by my capters. A rather coarsely haired horse takes a drink from the trough. It's a cruel vision for one that is badly starved of any nuorishment. The drenched chin of the horse gives me a moment of hope. I try to get its attention. If I can get it to come over to me, then maybe some of the water will drip from its chin onto my face. If I could capture just a little drop of water, it would bring a world of relief.
"Pst, pst come here horsey." I whisper, hoping not to get the attention of my capters. The horse lifts its head from the trough and lingers towards me. "Who's a lovely horse?" I don't know why I think complimenting the horse will entice it closer, but hey, I'm desparate and possibly suffering some form of dilusion from my current dehydrated, sun struck state.
Well whatta ya know, the horse comes over and places its head near my cheek. The water drizzles on my cheek and I lick it up with frantic speed. I don't think I've ever stretched my tongue so far in my life.
"Well whatta we have here?" A familiar voice echos nearby. My head is ringing from the heat. Everything is reverberating within, like I'm stuck in a metal drum, an intense spotlight shining down on me and someone is banging the drum in rhythmic pounding. It is an unbearable echo.
"There's no need to make out with the horse mate. Things aren't that bad."
Drake castes a relieving shadow as he stands in front of me. In his hand is a long knife dripping with blood. I squint and look over at my capters. I can see puddles of red on the sand around them.
"Well come on mate. We've got business to attend to." Drake is rather chirpy and proud of himself. Having dealt with my capters, he can't help but be gloating in his rescue efforts.
Comments