Chapter 2: Red Glass

Micka awoke and stood, looking out her tiny window to see that the sun was just above the horizon, making the far end of the desert appear as if it were ablaze. The heat of the day had not yet died, and her little hut was much hotter in the places above ground than in the shaded parts below ground where she had dug to provide cooler air. Still, even though the air was cooler, she was sticky from sweating in her sleep. She reached beneath her bed made of the feathers of desert birds to find her cantine. She took a long drink and noted that it was still about three quarters full, but it was the only of her seven cantines that still carried water, a very precious commodity in the desert. She would fill them up from the wells on the way to the edge of the desert.

She found all her cantines and set them on her table, then retrieved her belt to tie the strings to and keep her arms free. She looked at her cloak with disgust. "What do you think, Elja," she said to the little fox, "should I bring this accursed monstrosity with me?"

Elja looked up at her from his place by her bed and sneezed, his head moving from side to side as he did. "I didn't think so either," she replied as he buried his nose under his tail. "Oh, but aren't you coming with me?"

He looked at her without moving his head, then closed his eyes again. "I see. Going on my own this time around. Oh well. At least I may get something worth my time." She continued getting prepared for the night. She grabbed her leather sack so she could put any plants or herbs in one side, and filled the other side with plenty of soft feathers so that her glass sculptures wouldn't unnecessarily break and lose worth. The last things she brought were her knife, her slingshot, and the three-inch cactus barbs she had dipped in the poison of a crushed scorpion's tail.

She stepped out of her door as the last rays of the sun disappeared beneath the burning horizon. The heat of the sand still seeped through her boots, warming her feet. Just as she stepped on the sand she saw an orange-gray figure dash between her feet. Elja was sitting comfortable on the sand just 15 feet ahead of her, his head tilted to the side as if to say "A bit slow tonight?" She laughed, "So you are coming with me then?" and shook her head, chuckling as Elja waited for her, and then walked next to her as they headed toward the mountains.

The walk was fairly easy. She had decided to bring her cloak in case it became cold, and she was glad of it. The air cooled more quickly than the sand due to a brisk northern wind from the mountains, and by the time the sand cooled she nearly shivered. Though she was glad of the warmth her cloak provided, she left the hood down, with her goggles and scarf in a pocket on the outside of her cloak. She picked a few plants and herbs on her way, and even saw a few animals, but she decided to wait til she was on her way back to hunt, so as not to carry around soggy meat any longer than she must.

The mountains seemed to have grown to enormous proportions as they took up half of the night sky. The moon was shining bright and was nearly full, and the stars seemed to twinkle clearly. The sand had already absorbed whatever moisture had gotten through the pass and was just as dry and shifting as it always had been. A few hundred yards ahead she knew that little bits of grasses were shooting straight upward like spikes because of the rain that sometimes made it to the very edge of the desert, but she also knew that she was more likely to find mountain lions than anything of use to her, and a slingshot was no match for a mountain lion. Instead of trying to collect the rather useless plants, she stuck to where she was, hunting for precious bits of glass made by the lightning storms that barely reached the sands below.

She walked carefully, always looking before she stepped so that she wouldn't damage any of the precious sculpture and thereby damage the price. The she saw it. About twenty paces ahead of her, glistening in the moonlight, was the precious glass she looked for. But something about it seemed strange. She cautiously approached it and leaned over to inspect. Touching it gently, she found that it was beautifully shaped, unique and glittering in the moonlight. But there was a strange tint to it. Places in the glass were red or pink colored, something she hadn't seen before. She delicately handled the sculpture, placing it in her bag, and then looked back at the place where it had been. Although it was difficult to discern colors in the night, she noticed the sand seemed a darker, redder color there, and that the color seemed to follow a line.

Her eyes traced the line and noticed that the sand had ruts in them, as if something very large and heavy had been dragged. Quickly and silently she retrieved her knife and slingshot from her belt. Ahead of her, at the end of the trail of red, was a large construct. It seemed as though the frame were made of metal or wood, and then that frame had been covered with something like cloth or paper. It wasn't anything she could recognize, but something about it was strange. She decided after watching it for a few moments that it wasn't dangerous, and that she would investigate to try and find something useful, or to just figure out what the thing was.

She had long been in control of herself in distressing situations. Defending herself against angry animals, or people, had taught her to maintain her thoughts to stay clear and prepared for action. With this cool, collected manner, she was able to survive the circumstances that had been thrust upon her since a short time after she'd left her home. Panic was the least helpful thing that could be done. Yet as she approached the tattered shape she found her heart beating wildly beneath her cloak. Her senses heightened with anxious anticipation; the nothing that she heard every day in the desert quickly became a thrumming murmur, the cool night breeze sent a chill down her spine and into her limbs, the tingle resting in her fingers as if she'd sat on them for too long. Her eyes darted about at intervals, checking and rechecking every bit of shrub and grass in her path. As she noticed how quickly her breath escaped her lips, she paused to collect herself, taking slow, deep breaths to lower her heart rate and calm herself down.

She was nearly ten yards from the thing, and it appeared to her to be a machine. She didn't know what for, but it seemed not to have been there for long. She new it must have happened at the tail end of the storm, or else the rain would have washed away the trail of red it had left behind. The moon was now at the height of it's trek through the dark night's cloak, and she decided that she was calm enough to finally get nearer to the machine.

She reached out her hand and touched the cloth-like material surrounding the frame. She couldn't tell what it was, but it was still damp, and there were gaping holes with charred edges and scrapes that had ripped and torn through the cloth, leaving the frame bare and exposed in many places. Had it been struck by lightning? She wondered. Touching the frame she found it was made of metal. If it had been struck, it would explain why it hadn't burnt with the rest of the machine. Taking a few steps back she observed it as a whole.

It reminded her of a dragonfly. It seemed to have a "body" that was composed of the same metal of the wings, and was dented and distorted where it had scraped against the ground. the parts of the machine with a frame covered by cloth stuck out from the body, parallel to the ground, she assumed. An idea crossed her mind. A dragonfly? Was it even possible? She shook her head disbelievingly. No, she thought, flight was meant for birds and insects, not humans. She stepped up to the machine to examine the "body" of it more closely and thoroughly.

Stepping closer, she saw a strange, lumpy figure in a hole in the side of the machine's body. As she stared at it, trying to identify it, the lumpy mass moved and emitted a sound like a groan. Shock, surprise, fear, and panic all seemed to race through her body at once, and the terror coursing through her veins settled in her fingers and toes with a wildly tingling feeling. She didn't move a muscle, hoping that her stillness would give her safety, and willing the lump to disappear, and for her heart to stop beating in her throat like the wings of a hummingbird. Although the mass did not disappear, her heart did lower itself to the protection of her ribcage.

The longer she stared, the more she seemed to recognize of the shape of the lump. It seemed to be a human from what she could tell, a man even. He wore goggles, and a strange hat, and a leather jacket. The lower half of his body was within the body of the machine, the upper half was without. She also noticed shards of flat glass sticking out from the body of the plane, as if there had been a pane of glass there, like a window. She shook her head to clear it and looked back at the person in the plane. Should she help? Could she risk it? What if the person was a man and he saw her? But what if the person died? The injuries could be extensive enough that it could be fatal. Or they may wander in the wrong direction, completely missing the only town for hundreds of miles and instead search the desert fruitlessly for a sign of human life. No, she knew she could not let that happen.

Stepping forward she pulled the cantine that still held water from her belt and placed it on the ground. Mustering her strength, she cupped her hands under the person's arms she tugged and pulled. She ceased puling and examined the body to find any snags or something that might be holding it back. As she leaned in closer she saw the face and pulled off the goggles that the person was wearing. The person's eyes fluttered for a moment and at that same moment she realized in terror that the person was a man. She fell backward and frantically scrambled away, sending the sand beneath her feet flying toward the machine in the process. Her hand slipped and her head landed against the sand with a muffled thud. After laying for a moment she unscrewed her face and opened her eyes.

The sky was a blue-purple and the stars shone vividly like glitter strewn across the sky, and the moon looked like a bright, flat, silver coin. The eastern horizon was beginning to glow a soft gray and in a few hours she new the sun would return in blazing heat. She had to decide now what she would do. Sitting up she looked at the man. His goggles lay on the ground where she'd droped them in her scramble. His face was dirty with sand, and his clothes looked a little weathered and worn. He had been traveling, most likely. Perhaps she could leave him a note, that said where to go. But the sun would scorch him if he didn't wake in time. And his legs could be broken. Standing up, she warily approached him.

Upon inspection she found he was wearing a sort of belt attached to the machine, probably to keep him from falling out. She fumbled with the latch until she got it undone, then placed her hands under his arms again. She was able to drag him out much easier than she'd expected and she fell over again, this time out of poor balance rather than fright. The air rushed out of her lungs when his shoulder and arm landed on her torso, and she struggled for a moment to push him to the ground, glad for his unconscious state and the cover of darkness that hid her flushed cheeks.

Rolling him over onto his back she reached for her cantine and lifted his head a little to pour some water down his throat. He coughed a little when she did, so she moistened the hem of her cloak and wiped it against his forehead and on his cheeks to cool him, and possibly wake him to a slightly more aware state. It seemed to be working. He scrunched his face up and coughed a little more, then groaned.

She decided if she was taking a chance, she might as well risk it all, and so she spoke.

"I need you to wake up. Please." Her words were soft and gentle, more gentle than she'd intended and it surprised her. She decided to ignore it until she was less pressed for time. She was glad she did, for when she refocused her gaze on the man his eyes were open. He seemed to be having trouble focusing on her, so she spoke again.

"I know you must be confused right now, but we need to hurry if you're going to be ok. I need you to help me get you to my house. Blink twice if you understand me."

He blinked twice. "Alright, we need to get you on your feet. We need to do this slowly. Tell me if you think a leg is broken, that way I can support you from that side." He nodded and so she stood up. She tucked the strap of her cantine back into her belt and noticed the goggles were still in her pocket. Maintaining her calm, she reached into her cloak and pulled them out and slipped them over her head. She realized that his eyes were likely not yet able to ascertain any of his surroundings. He may even believe it all to be a dream. Still, she decided it was better just to be safe.

Now, how to get him standing without causing to much pain, or nausea. Thinking back, she remembered how she and her brother had played together and how they'd found a way to stand up with ease. It would do perfectly.

"Okay. I need you to bend your knees so your feet are flat on the ground." He did, and she put her right toes on top of his left toes, and slid her left toes under his right. "Now lift your arms if you can, and then cross them at the wrist." He did so, seeming to wince only slightly as she tugged him up with her similarly crossed hands.

For a moment he stood on his own, then he began to totter backward and she grasped his forearm and yanked him toward her. She caught him as he fell against her, and she supported his weight as much as she could on her stronger right side. Seeming not to be in pain she decided it was ok to start walking. She was wrong. The man leaned forward, coughing and looking as though he may start to wretch any moment. Thinking quickly she pulled out her cantine and poured a small amount of water into her cupped palm and patted it onto his neck. He seemed to calm down a little and she instructed him to very slowly straighten up to avoid another wretching fit. He obeyed her instruction and she started off to the south, the eastern sky glowing brighter and brighter every minute.