The group trudged deeper into the harsh desert, the cracked earth stretching endlessly beneath their weary feet. The scorching sun and relentless heat made every step a struggle, and the barren landscape seemed to swallow them whole.
Valerie, on the verge of collapse from fatigue, suddenly swayed and fainted, her body crumpling against the unyielding terrain. Mark Wilson quickly offered her his ration of water. “Here, Valerie—take what you need,” he urged, but she weakly shook her head, insisting, “No, I’m fine. I don’t need more than my fair share.”
Amid the murmurs of concern, Dan Erickson’s voice cut through the heavy silence. “There has to be life somewhere, if that weird radio transmission is anything to go by. Steve, what do you make of that green space you saw before the crash?” he asked, eyes searching for an answer.
Steve studied the horizon thoughtfully before replying, “I’m not entirely sure. It looked like a hint of vegetation—a possibility of an oasis or even a remnant of fertile land—but nothing definitive.” Their conversation was interrupted by the increasingly bizarre features of the desert. The sand, interspersed with dark mineral patches, shimmered unnaturally under the dying light, while jagged rock formations and isolated mesas towered like ancient sentinels.
Alexander Fitzhugh’s grumbling punctuated the oppressive quiet. “I swear, this place is crawling with nightmares,” he complained bitterly. “I’ve never seen insects like these—iridescent beetles with spindly legs and chittering cicadas buzzing around like something out of a fever dream.”
Throughout it all, Betty Hamilton struggled to carry the exhausted Barry Lockridge, whose fatigue had rendered him nearly immobile. The relentless march across this alien wasteland continued, every step drawing them further into a realm of surreal desolation.
Valerie’s face was flushed with exertion and heat as she struggled to keep pace. Her blouse clung to her skin, and her miniskirt, completely unsuited for this punishing desert, fluttered with every labored step. Stopping for a moment, she winced and rubbed her aching wrist. With trembling fingers, she slipped a small ring off her finger—a delicate band that had once belonged to her family—and pressed it into Mark Wilson’s hand.
“Mark,” she said, her voice choppy and heavy with fatigue, “promise me. Promise you’ll give this to my sister if I ever get out alive.” Her eyes shone with a mix of desperation and hope as she continued in halting, fragmented sentences, “It’s all I have. You… you must keep it safe. Don’t let her forget me.”
Mark Wilson's face grew grim. “Valerie,” he began, his voice low and strained, “I looked at the clock. It read 6250 A.D. We’re not talking about decades or even centuries here. Think about it. We’re not in the 20th century. We’re well into the 63rd century… maybe further.” He stopped for a moment, struggling to find the right words. “Your sister…” he hesitated again, the weight of his knowledge crushing him. “If she was alive when you left, she’s been gone for over six thousand years, Valerie. Even if she lived to a ripe old age, I doubt—” He couldn’t continue, the enormity of time’s passage swallowing the remains of optimism. “It’s possible we’re the last humans left on Earth.”
Valerie’s breath hitched at the impossible reality, and she faltered, her knees buckling slightly beneath her. Her eyes, filled with disbelief, scanned the barren wasteland, as though expecting the landscape to provide some kind of answer. “Six thousand years?? No,” she breathed, trying to block out the growing sense of suffocation. “It can’t be. She can’t be… gone for that long. That’s… that’s beyond reason.”
Mark’s eyes didn’t leave her, his voice resigned but kind. “I wish there was some way to turn back time, Valerie. But reality’s different now. No time travel. No going home. We’re in a future so far removed from our own 1983 that everything we knew has long since vanished.”
It was like a dagger to her heart, but Valerie wiped away a tear, clenching her jaw. "Then what choice do we have?" she asked, barely above a whisper. "We keep going." She straightened herself, forced to accept the brutal truth. There was no turning back—the journey ahead had no more illusions.
Fitzhugh suddenly yanked off his stylish cotton blouse and, with a flourish, draped it over Barry's head. The action was both absurd and oddly protective—a makeshift visor against the relentless sun. Betty, startled by his impulsiveness, stepped forward and demanded, “Fitzhugh, what do you think you're doing? You'll burn off that blouse if you're not careful!”
Fitzhugh scoffed indignantly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’m just giving Barry a little shelter from the sun,” he retorted. “Besides, I’ve always wanted a good suntan.”
Before anyone could respond, Dan interjected with a dry remark, shaking his head as he eyed Fitzhugh’s attire. “Fitzhugh, if you want a tan, you can keep that blouse. I already have mine—from my green jumpsuit. Now, give it over to me if you’re that desperate for a change!”
The tension in the group was momentarily broken by the banter, even as the harsh desert heat and their grim reality pressed in around them.
Steve wiped the sweat from his forehead as he looked toward a distant cluster of rocks jutting out of the barren landscape. He pointed toward them with a grim nod. “Head over there,” he said firmly. “There’s at least a chance of some shade, and a better shot at finding water where rocks collect, rather than out here in the open sand. It’s our best option for now.”
As the group neared the cluster of rocks, their hopeful search for shade turned grim. The outcropping was not a stable refuge at all but a precarious formation of ancient, weathered stone. Massive rock walls rose abruptly from the barren landscape, their surfaces pitted by time and erosion. Deep, jagged breaks ran along the walls—gaping fissures that threatened to widen at any moment. The very structure of the rocks seemed unstable, as if the force of the desert had slowly begun to drive the walls inward.
With each cautious step, the sound of shifting stone grew louder. It became clear that these rock walls were not stationary; they were, in a way, moving—creeping perilously toward the group. Loose fragments tumbled down the sides, and the gaps between the walls expanded like yawning mouths, ready to swallow anything in their path. The promise of shade and even water seemed to vanish beneath the threat of collapsing stone, leaving the survivors to wonder if this seeming sanctuary was just another trap in a hostile, unyielding land.
“Watch out, everyone!” Steve bellowed, his voice echoing off the looming cliffs. In a rapid flurry of coordinated movement, he and Dan, with Mark’s help, pushed the rest of the group back toward the safety of the cliff’s edge. The sudden urgency left no room for hesitation as they scrambled away from the unstable rock formation above.
Just then, a massive boulder dislodged from the crumbling wall, crashing into the sand with a deafening impact. It buried itself deep in the scorched earth, sending a shower of pebbles, dust, and jagged rocks cascading in all directions. The particles danced chaotically in the disturbed air, mingling with the lingering haze of the desert as the group huddled against the cliff, their hearts pounding in the tense silence that followed.
Coughing with the dust, Steve lunged outside the cloud and looked up at the cliff. All seemed quiet now.
"Is everyone all right?" he asked.
They nodded, and as the dust cloud settled, they began brushing away the choking dust and flicking stone chips off their shoulders and hair. Aside from torn clothing, no one seemed hurt.
"Wow! That was close!" Barry said sincerely, but prematurely.
A sudden roar made all seven humans whirl about. Out of nowhere, an immense burst of flame shot forth on the face of the cliff.
Stunned, the seven 20th century people stared up at the sudden phenomenon as a second jet of flame spout out, closer this time.
"Where's that fire coming from?!" Betty shouted over the roar of the flames as a third jet of fire issued from the solid rock, terrifyingly close to them this time.
"Run!" shouted Steve.
Another jet of fire flamed out into the desert sun, as if from the mouth of a dragon, barely missing the seven humans. Dan snatched up their survival pack and trailed it behind him as the seven forced their weary bodies into a desperate run along the cliff face.
A fifth flaming jet incinerated the pack as it flew along behind Dan. He dropped the charred straps and kept on running.
As the tension in the air reached its peak, the six humans, ahead of Dan, reached the narrow turn in the cliff wall. With their hearts wild and their adrenaline pumping, they rounded the corner, each of them darting forward in a desperate scramble. Their movements were sharp and frantic, every second crucial. Steve, Valerie, Betty, Mark, and Fitzhugh moved quickly, their eyes wide with fear, throwing themselves against the rock face as the others followed suit. With breathless urgency, they pressed themselves against the wall, seeking whatever shelter they could find in the unforgiving terrain. For a split moment, it felt as though time had stopped—the pounding of their own hearts drowning out the sound of the roaring flames behind, the looming danger only a breath away. Despite the panic etched on their faces, the others worked in unison, forcing themselves behind the cliff’s protective embrace, their backs pressed hard against the cold, rough stone.685Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnaSbnlQIUB
Dan joined them, his heart pounding and his lungs painfully sucking in the hot air. "What the hell was that?" he asked.
"The pack....?" Steve looked around and saw its charred remains lying some distance away, on the sand.
One more great spout of flame erupted with a vast roaring sound. Then----nothing.
Betty Hamilton was the one to speak up, her voice trembling with both relief and confusion. "What happened? It's—it's stopped."685Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0W5JPxGZLN
Steve peered cautiously around the rock, and Betty joined him. "It's disappeared without a trace....No marks on the rock....nothing," he said.
She looked at him in bewilderment. "What kind of place is this?" she asked.
Neither Dan nor Steve had any answers.685Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpPLd4y0jTc
and then Add to home screen.