Chapter 10 Where's the Beach?

"Why are we even in this town Ernest?  There's nothing here to kill us."

Wait, why am I complaining?  Must be the heat.  Oh -That is- killing us.

"Over here Reader, before the storm swallows us both."

Ernest motioned from the shattered remains of a doorframe.  The building didn't look any better.  Its clay walls were worn from the wind and neglect, giving the entire town an air of ruin. 

Where are the Twins? They must be hiding somewhere.  Probably in cool shade with hand fans and tall glasses of ice water.  Water... Water...  Water...  My mouth hurts thinking about it.

Reader shuffled through the loose sand to reach the shade filled interior.  There was no furniture inside.  Just bare walls and sand.  Already the wind was picking up outside.  With no other option the pair sat down.

Finally.  A chance to sit.  Rest.  And cough more dirt out of my lungs.

"You know Ernest.  You would think that it being so dark in here that it would cool down a little bit.  But no, it's still an oven in here-"

Reader paid dearly for the speech.  With typical timing the wind picked up and started blowing sand in.  No door in the doorframe.  No glass in the windows.  Just funnels for more dirt to get in.  Despite having cloth covering the mouth, dirt still found its way into Reader's mouth.  The next few minutes were spent painfully coughing.  Ernest grunted, scooting until the two sat back to back.  Despite the heat, the human contact was comforting. 

"A dirty.  Dirty oven."  Reader finished.

Can't tell if he's laughing or coughing.

We left the cave when it was relatively dim outside.  Ernest claimed it was this place's version of nightfall.  The heat was still unbearable since so much of it was reflecting off the ground.  We drank so much water before going that it felt we were sure to burst.  Now that we're here the thirst is worse than ever.  Knowing that water is in the cave doesn't help. 

Reader thought about when they first arrived.  Once Ernest realized where they were he ran for cover, cursing the entire way.  They had barely made it to cover before the sandstorm came.  Ernest only muttered statements of hating this place.  After getting rubbed by nature's finest sandpaper for the past few hours, Reader could easily see why. 

Hours...
It's hard to tell time here... 
The only reliable time keeper is our ragged breaths and beating hearts.
It's getting... hard to think... thoughts come so sluggishly... must be lack of water...

Grain by grain the sand piled on the huddled pair.

Finally the wind has stopped. 
Why are there so many sandstorms here anyways?
Why does it seem rhythmic?

Poof?

Ernest broke out of the sand dune that built around them.  Helping Reader up, he moved to the window to look outside. 

"Anything Ernest?"

"Sand sand and more sand."

"What are we supposed to do here?"

"I'm not sure Reader, but I wasn't expecting the town to be in this condition."

The pair was silent as Ernest continued peeking out into the glaring sun.

"For now Reader the most important thing is to get water."

"We could always go back to the cave."

"Already checked the cave.  There's nothing for us there."

"There's water."

"There are wells in town.  One of them is near here."

Nothing like being ignored over something sensible. 

With that, Ernest leapt from the window and waded through the sand towards another equally devastated building.  With no other option, Reader gritted teeth and followed. 

Ow too bright.  Ow hothothothot ow hot hot- whew...
Any longer and I think my clothes would have caught fire.

"Alright Reader," Ernest took a moment to catch his breath, "See that door over there?  It's just a straight path.  These buildings all are interconnected of sorts, but they open up at alleyways.  That sun is hot, but it would be even worse to get caught in a sand burst.  Stick close."

"Wait.  What's a sand burst?"

"It's when the sand funnels through the gaps of the buildings very quickly and strips everything in its path."

"Got it."

And people lived here?

Hand in hand the pair rushed from the relative safety of one doorway to another.  In the back they could hear the wind picking up. 

It sounds like a stampede.

The further into town they got the more broken bits of furniture they would find in their way.  Ernest stopped suddenly, snapping his hand out to stop Reader. 

"Wha-"

"Listen Reader."

Their ears were filled with a high pitch whistle.

Ahead was a pitiful table.

*wooOOOSHCRUN-SSSHHHHH*

Nothing left.  Hooo...; Poor table.  How short I knew thee.

This game of light and shadow, sand and death, continued on for what felt like hours.  The heat and thirst made it hard enough to walk let alone dodge deadly whistling sand waves.  I don't like this game.  Eventually they stopped running all together.  The sandstorm had fully come in, making movement impossible. 

After digging themselves out of another dune, Ernest stumbled over a broken door.

"Help me move this Reader."

Are we going to barricade ourselves in now?  I'm so tired and thirsty this thing feels like a ton.  Hmm?

"What's wrong Ernest?"

"You know how I talked about wells in town?"

"Yeah?"

"This is supposed to be one of those wells."

"Ernest... All I see is sand."
"So I noticed Reader."

The sigh that came out of Ernest summed up both of their frustrations into one long winded exclamation.  They were quiet for many heartbeats.

"So what now Ernest?"

He sat down looking at the well in confusion.

"You've been here before right?  What did you do last time?"

"I usually just tried to find a way to get out of here.  I would find water in the cave or in a well and then that was it."

"So what... the assignment is to not die to sandstorms?"

"I don't know.  I always thought it was finding water."

He scratched dust out of his hair in thought.  His expression grim.

"There's only one other place I can think of Reader."

"And that is?"

"When we came here you noticed the high canyon walls right?"

"Yeah this place is built into the sandstone."

"At the very back of this town there is an old wall..."

"An old wall?  Why is that important?"

"It has a picture on it."

Ernest stood up.  Certainty now guiding his steps. 

Without another word the pair walked out into the burning sun. 

I feel that if I looked up I would see buzzards and ravens flying circles around us.  If I were to look up that is.  I think my hair is on fire.

Ernest was making his way towards a tall dome like structure that was supported by pillars.  They passed a dried up fountain in what must have been a courtyard.  By the time they entered the building the pair were trailing smoke. 

It felt like we were under a magnifying glass.

Suspicious Reader looked out into the pale sky from the safety of the shade. 

Are those... birds..?  I knew it.

Reader shook a fist at the sky and turned back to find Ernest. 

He was up ahead, passing through archways, counters and benches.  Sure enough they came into a massive chamber carved out of canyon stone.  Before them was the old wall. 

Must be at least three stories tall.  It has a picture alright...  It shows rivers and forests of pine... some trees that we haven't even seen on our way here in full bloom.  Animals... and.. ...

Is that who I think that is?

In the center of the mural was a depiction of the Twins.  The female was laying back in grassy meadow smiling at them with hand outstretched as if in greeting.  The male was acting as her cushion.  The mural was damaged with cracks and bits missing.  This damage extended to the faces of the Twins.  Half the female's was missing.  Almost all of the male's was gone.  But both had at least one eye staring out and part of a smile. 

That is creepy.  It feels like they're looking at me right now.  Tracking my every movement.

Ernest stared at the wall.  Looking for something.  His fingers, once ink-stained now caked in dirt, tapped rhythmically against his chin.  Each flick away from soft flesh made a pop-pop-pop-ing noise; his claws snapping out and going back in before touching his chin again. 

Ernest started to pace the wall, scratching at it with his claws aimlessly.  Then he stopped. 

Why is he rubbing a bit between his fingers?

Something has his attention.  Sniffing?  Did he pick up a smell?

"Reader do you smell that?"

"Smell what Ernest?"

"Come here."

Dubious, Reader stepped closer to the wall and mimicked Ernest as he took a deep whiff. 

Ow it felt like something broke in my nose- hey... what is that ... what is that sweet smell?

"Reader there is water here."

"What?" Whaaaaaaaaaat... no... it's a solid wall.  The heat must have gotten to him.

"There is water.  It's behind this wall." 

Ernest took a step back, his mind's eye looking at the cracks in the mural.  He settled on the image of the Twins.  Their smiling faces and knowing eyes watching the thirsty pair. 

"It's behind this wall." Ernest muttered.  The mutter became a chant as he kicked at the wall. 

Chips of paint came off.  Then he began to claw at the image.  Dust piled at their feet. 

Dust...  I hear...  howling..?  The sandstorm!

"Ernest!  The sandstorm - it's coming again!"

"Follow the water... there is water here... it's behind this wall..."

Ernest kicked and clawed more furiously.  Reader looked all over trying to find a hole or indent.  Though he was making a dent, the stone was obviously outlasting Ernest. 

There must be something.  There must be some way.

The noise got louder.  Like the rush of desert stallions bringing forth swift death. 

There must be a way in!

Reader looked at the image of the Twins. 
Their eyes alive with mischief. 
Their lips one oversized grin. 

Must be a...  Huh?  I only see one hand.

Ernest was exhausted now.  His head leaning against the female Twin's stony bosom in defeat. 

Reader paced around with shaky steps.  Eyes on the image before them. 

Only one hand.  With Ernest in that position it's as if she's holding him close. 

Slowly as if mesmerized, Reader's hand stretched out, and pressed against the painted hand.

The sound of the storm had reached a crescendo.

Whoa-

There was a sound as if they had been swallowed by stone. 

Then there was silence. 

Did I close my eyes?  It's so dark.  And cold in here.  And... damp...

Reader's gummy eyes opened up ever so slowly.  Tiny green and blue spots of luminescence gave form to their safe haven.  It was a large natural cave.  Water could be heard in the distance, trickling down into pools and bouncing off rocks.  The pair stared in silence at the mounds of earth and stone covered in the glowing points of light. 

"Are... are we still in the sand box?"

"I think so Reader."

Ernest was staring at their feet.

"What is it?"

"We're not the only ones who have been here Reader."

"Who else could have... don't know huh?"

He reached down and showed Reader a few burnt chunks of wood. 

They took stock of the cavern with what illumination they had.  A rocky but relatively clear path was ahead of them.  There was no discernable way back out.  At their feet were scraps of burnt wood and a makeshift torch.  Ernest picked up the stick and frowned. 

"Wouldn't happen to have a lighter there Reader?"

What of course not-ah... it was a joke. 

They started to walk up the path, avoiding the mounds where the little lights were coming from. 

"Remember Reader.  Don't look-"

"-And don't touch.  I got it Ernest."