Desert Dune Blues

The sand danced across my skin as I stared out across the moonlit dunes. I shivered in the desert’s grip. The night was cold and heartless, and I had only my jacket to keep me warm. It wasn’t meant to be this way. I kick-started the bike again, but it choked and died. There was something wrong with the engine.

I peered out into the sea of pale blue glimmers and deep purple shadows. Curses couldn’t find those traitors fast enough. I was the courier. I represented nobody but the transaction itself. Couldn’t they see that double-crossing me would only lead the bosses back to them?

The bike cared just a much as the endless sand. It had brought me this far, and then promptly given up. Just far enough that I couldn’t walk back. I knew how it would end now. Thirst. Cracked skin. And the unbearable heat. My imagination left no detail from the image of my sure fate.

Suddenly I heard a buzzing sound in the distance.

I sprinted to the top of the dune, leaving the bike behind me. I saw a tiny light shaking madly across the floor of the desert. Another motorcycle! My heart leapt. All thoughts of dying were gone. Whoever this was, I could bargain. I had money. Hope against hope, I might even persuade them to help me with my motorcycle. I would pay. I waved my hands frantically in the air. If only I had a torch or a flashlight!

I stood, watching the bike as it seemed to inch closer. The sky started to brighten to the east, just faintly, but with a definite yellow warmth. Then silence. The rider had stopped, just after cresting a ridge. Surely they had seen me. I waved again, staring, willing my gaze to alert them to my presence.

They turned on a light, but no, it was just a flash. I horrible stinging spread out across my chest and shoulders, and then I heard the gunshot echo across the barren sand. I fell backwards, tumbling down the dune. I crashed headlong into my dead motorcycle.