The sulight beat down on Marc's skin as he trekked through the sea of sand. Every step he took made the sand and rubble swallow a majority of his foot. It had been a week since he had left his shack, and his mind was starting to wander as he began to wonder if abandoning his shelter was a wise decision. He was running low on rations, and he saw nothing In the horizon except for the long stretch of desert laid before him. "Why did I see this is a good idea?", he said to himself. After walking several miles out, he came across a cargo ship half buried with a gaping hole in the side of it. Overcome with exhaustion, he decided to set camp inside the ship. He set his stuff down and began to kick open doors to search for stuff to salvage, until he came across the captains quarters, which was conveniently pretty clean. As the night came upon him, he dozed off.
"Marc... Marc...", someone called. It sounded so familiar, yet also nostalgic. "Marc... Marc..." Out of the distance he could make out a figure of his mother. He called out to her overjoyed, but he started to run towards her, he noticed she was yelling out to him in peril. She wore a face of terror as she was being chased by a mutated sandshark chased after her with a knife! He tried running towards her, but he couldn't move his body! It felt like a vaccum pulling his body backwards. He Woke up in a cold sweat to find a shadowy figure standing against the doorway. He saw a small flame omit from a zippo as the person lit a cigarette and stuffed the lighter in his pocket.
"You, my friend, are a restless sleeper." Marc reached for his gun, but it wasn't there.
"Really? I said hi and you want to shoot me?", said the figure.
" 'Friendly's not an adjective I frequently use in this day and age.", Marc replied sarcastically.
The man shrugged, "Fair enough. I'll start over." He shifted in his place.
"The name's Joseph. Joseph Krawietz."
"I'm Marc Orion.", Marc replied.
"Well then 'Marc Orion', where are you headed?"
"A USCPS soldier died on my doorstep..."
Silence grew in the room like fungus in a dark and damp room.
Joseph spoke up and said, "So, you're needing to get to the base to inform them of their loss?"
"In a sense, yes. But something else struck me as odd before he died...", Marc said.
"Hunger?", commented Joseph jokingly.
"No. The soldier whispered 'They're coming'."
