Blood Red Road

Mountains from there.
    Nero flies to the top of the plateau an down agin, tryin to hurry me along. He cain’t ever believe how slow I am, how long it takes me to git places. I think he feels sorry fer me with my two legs.
    I reach the plateau as the day starts to wane. I start to make my way to the top, weavin my way around rocks an over scree. Nero goes on ahead, hoppin from rock to rock nice an easy, then comin back to croak an caw at me to hurry along.
    Show off, I says to him.
    I pull myself the last bit an flop on my belly onto the top. I git my breath, then stand up. It’s narrower than I thought it ’ud be, no more’n fifty paces across at the widest point.
    I’m on th’other side in no time. I gasp.
    As far as the eye can see, to the horizon an beyond, it’s sand. Great crests of it, great sweeps of golden sand carved into waves an hills an peaks an valleys. Smooth on one side, ridged on th’other side. Vast. Endless.
    No sign of any town. No sign of any mountains.
    I cain’t believe it. I thought I’d bin crossin Sandsea fer two days. But what I jest done was nuthin. That was only the beginnin. Here. Now. This is where the crossin starts.
    My heart sinks into my boots. My belly clenches. I lick my dry lips.
    Nero flutters down an lands on my shoulder.
    It’s big, I says. Whaddya think?
    He croaks an bobs up an down.
    No problem, eh? Easy fer you to say. I look out over Sandsea agin. It’s too big, I says. Too damn big.
    Don’t give in to fear, Saba. Be strong, like I know you are .
    I ain’t no quitter, Pa .
    If I’m careful, what water an food I got should last me another three days. After that, I got my bow an my wits.
    Nero launches hisself over the edge of the plateau. He soars above the desert floor an caws, impatient fer me to git movin.
    Okay, I says. I’m comin. You better be right about this.
    An I start down.

    Dusk. I’ll need to stop soon to make camp fer the night.
    All of a sudden, the wind picks up. It comes outta nowhere, wailin an moanin. It plucks at the sand on the top of a nearby dune an flings it away. What was it Mercy said?
    Take care crossin Sandsea. It’s one of the wild places. Listen to the winds .
    I take another step up the dune I’m climbin. I stop. Look around me. All around, the dunes is startin to shift, change shape.
    Holy crap, I says. I wrap my sheema good an tight around my nose an mouth.
    The wind’s growin stronger. Bolder. It tugs at me, tries to pull me over. It wants me. Sand flies in my eyes, stings ’em. My cloak whips around my legs an snaps in the wind.
    Nero! I yell. Nero! Where are you! The words git torn from my lips.
    Nero swoops an dives, cawin frantically. I scream over the roar of the wind. Git outta here! I flap my hands at him. Go on! I’ll be okay!
    He disappears.
    The world howls its rage around me. It’s too big. I’m too small. The sand unner my feet starts to slide, starts to shift—like it don’t want me on it no more.
    Panic claws at my throat. My eyes is gritty. The sand’s blindin me. It’ll make me blind. Do somethin. Quick. I pull my sheema down over my eyes. Now I cain’t see a thing.
    What should I do? What do I do?
    Feel the way. Go down. An git buried alive? Keep goin then, keep goin! An git swept away?
    What should I do? What do I do?
    The sand dune collapses unner me. An that’s it. No choice.
    I’m swept away.

    Dark.
    Hot.
    Cain’t breathe. Oh gawd, I cain’t breathe.
    Weight. On my chest.
    I’m movin. Slidin. Cain’t stop. Cain’t stop.
    Cain’t-breathe-must-breathe-must-breathe-cain’t-breathe-cain’t—
    I’m out. I’m thrown outta the sand.
    I fly through the air face first an thump down, land hard on the ground. I gasp. I breathe. I cough. I roll to my side an yank my sheema down. I cough an cough an take in great, deep gulps of air. I breathe it in, drink it in, I cain’t git enough.
    Then I grab my waterskin, rinse my mouth, spit out the sand.
    After a bit, I start to calm down. I lie there, starin up at the pink dusky sky. I cain’t believe I’m alive.
    Then I realize. I’m lookin at the sky. I can see the sky. The first faint twinkle of stars. I ain’t breathin in sand no more. The wind’s gone. It must of left as quick as it came.
    Slowly I stand, pull myself to my feet. I brush myself down, make sure I still got all my gear. Then I look.
    I’m on a wide flat plain. The sand dunes is gone. Not a trace of ’em left. Like they was never there. Like I dreamed ’em.
    An standin