Sweet Mercy: A Desert Of Death

“It gets a little dicey telling the good eggs from the rotten ones when they’re all dipped in Easter dye and done up like first Christmas. Some of them are blunt and rough around the edges, seemingly standoffish like someone that your momma would want you to avoid for sake of saving yourself some trouble down the line. The others rot your teeth with their pixie stick coated nonsense. They’ll talk you in circles just so you might trust them, to be honest, I haven’t ever been the type to take kindly to someone who talks more than their fair share.” 

With a swift motion, she swiped to the side, a golden strand of hair that had fallen into her eye. Her stead, QT huffed and trotted his feet in place, kicking up a fine cloud of sand. The heat permeated the land, and everything roasted. I could smell the meat of my body, rancid, and relentless.

 “Well it’s Wednesday, so the calendar says and that means the trip will take ages. Everyone knows people like to cause more nonsense on a Wednesday than any other day of the week. Don’t ask me why cause I can’t tell you. Just keep on my tail or you might lose me in the heat of things. Come on then, don’t be fearful cowboy, step on up and mount your stead.” 

I did as she commanded, seeing there was not much room for negotiation. The arch of her backside was quite appealing, I would feel privileged to follow such a lady into certain doom. Assuredly, I’d feel just as much a juvenile, that this lady-my escort-was to protect me in the unknown, unfamiliar territory we would soon be stepping foot in. 

“Much obliged Miss.Mercy.” Were the only words to escape my lips for many a minute's past. 

The rolling sand gave the impression we were hardly moving at all. The hazy scape of the desert settled over my eyes, I gave thanks for solid stead to save me the misfortune of walking, then crawling, then dying for a mirage of an oasis, surely unreal. There was an eerie sense of listlessness across the whole damn desert, and it seemed for a while like we were the only living souls in sight. I got an itch and reached into my pocket to coat my mouth with some sweet stuff. Then I chewed it like I used to chew bubble gum when I was a brat the size of an overgrown twinkie. Not like much has changed, just got a little bigger, that’s all. Tin can on the side by some brush and I aimed for it with deadly precision. Hit the mark, landed it right in the can with a clunk. Not a single second later, a little desert horned lizard came scrambling out, scorning me for the unwanted shower. But licking it off the top of his head not a moment later, I shivered despite the heat, Mother Nature sure did seem to have a devious sense of humor. 

“Quite the shot then Mr. Pierce. I bet a rogue or a rapscallion wouldn’t wanna come face to face with the likes of you, that lizard certainly got the best of it, and is just an innocent bystander too.” 

“Well if that was the case, Mrs. Mercy, I dunno if I would’ve required your services for this journey.”

“Is that so? I thought you’d just called on me for the company.” She chided, a devilish smirk curling the tips of her lips towards the sun-scorched sky. 

We remarked to each other on and off like this for some time, neither of us wanting to waste much air on talking under the thick blanket of sand and heat that coated our tongues when we opened our mouths. I was fine with the pace of things, the pace of the horses, and the stops we made every so now and then, to replenish them. Just the usual upkeep, you know, make sure they were well hydrated from the canteens strapped to each of our packs. More than us even, the horses needed it. 

I found out from Mercy that my horse's name was Szarks, which reminded me of snarky, a word that describes an individual who is known to be aggressively sarcastic, and overtly sassy. A characteristic that had failed to show for the few hours I knew him yet. Still so much to learn of a horse, or a person for that matter, after only a few idle hours of conversation. Not like that was at all my prerogative, in exchange for the coin this lady-and by that I mean sweet Mercy- was doing me a solid favor. Though it would be false to imply I wasn’t at all curious about the origin story of this sultry killer. The sand grated over my mind, mulling what was left of my senses to a dull sandy wave. I felt- for lack of a better word- sleepy, and now that I think it; smug. That kind of stupor a man might work himself into, after knocking back a few too many, and trying to defend the honor of a lady suitor. Of course, I’m sure this attitude turned me into an ass, my sister, my mother and every female I’ve met between birth and now have told me, either I would kill the ladies with my charm, or with my stupidity. I wondered which would leave me in this desert. Once again death nodded at me in my peripheral, and being the gentleman I chose to be, I nodded at my steadfast, sure-footed companion. A tilt of the hat and the mind is clear of premonitions.