Blue Desert Dreams: Part Two


“I can’t believe you sold that girl.” Marks laughed as they rode on, just a bit ahead of O’Dwyer.

“I’m going right back for her.” O’Dwyer responded. They were making good time across the desert, pushing the animals. O’Dwyer shrugged, but fluttered his fingers at his side.

He couldn’t believe he had sold the girl, either.

“What do you mean, you’re going right back for her?” Marks turned around to stare at him. “You’ll never find her.” His eyebrows drew down over his eyes, and he tugged at the collar of his shirt. There was a stray thread loose that was itchier than all the others; just how it always went.

“Of course I’ll find her. She’ll be helping out with housework or drawing water, something.” O’Dwyer urged his camel a bit faster. It grunted but didn’t speed up. Blasted things.

“No, I mean that guy probably sold her to some off tribe.”

O’Dwyer urged the camel faster, ignoring its protests, and caught up to his friend.

Marks laughed when he saw the confusion on O’Dwyer’s face.

“What do you mean?” O’Dwyer asked.

Marks laughed again and mimicked, “‘What do you mean’? Classic, man.”

O’Dwyer reached over deftly, his rough fingers hooking over the same collar that Marks had been scratching at moments before, and dragged him off of his horse.

He tumbled into the sand; O’Dwyer hovered over him, his shadow long and dangerous. Marks’ horse stopped a ways from them and began to make it’s way back uncertainly.

While Marks sat, stunned, in the sand, O’Dwyer jumped down from the camel and landed at his face. “Speak quickly.”

Marks groaned and said, “You’re the most violent man I know.”

“Tell me what I want to know, Marks.”

Marks protested, reminding O’Dwyer of the men at the dig site, of the treasures being taken. He rolled onto his stomach and coughed.

“Faster, Marks.” O’Dwyer said, voice low.

“What did you expect?!” Marks groaned again, clutching at his ribs. “She’s an American girl, man. If that camel guy sells her he’ll get three times as much as he bought her for. I think you broke my ribs, man!”

O’Dwyer sighed and climbed back onto the camel.

“Where. Are. You. Going?” Marks gritted his teeth as he stood, hand over his side, and watched O’Dwyer turn the camel back around.

“To rescue an American.”


to be continued….


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