Through Dust And Shadows

Many specks of dust scattered across the abandoned railroad station. The wind was raging; howling fiercely as it crashed upon the decaying structure. The tracks of the railroad seemed to span completely across the immense desert, but in truth, only graced its southeastern area. The arrival bell at the station rung eerily, as it did every time the once active train passed pleasantly by. The wind began howling louder, as if the ringing of the bell disturbed its lament.
A dog, about three feet tall, its fur looking almost shaved, was walking along the rails. Why it was doing so was vastly unknown; the desert was hated by everything. It gave people challenge, something so hated, words cannot describe. The wind, as stated recently, was blowing ferociously, and the sheer amount of dust being thrown around was enough to drive anything crazy, but this dog didn’t seemed to be disturbed by it. It strutted silently among the tracks, until it stopped suddenly. Strangely, the dog began running; running violently. It barked, and then whimpered, as though it were suffering. It began running faster, until it fell over, and stopped barking. It stopped moving completely. The sand drug the unmoving dog below the surface of the desert. Everything was silent again. In a few minutes, it seemed nothing had just happened, until a man, around five feet and ten inches tall, passed by the dog’s resting place. He was heat-stricken, thirsty, and begging to be released from the prison that was this desert. He seemed to be whispering things to himself, like ‘please’ or ‘why?’
His pace of walking was strange. He would walk fast for a few steps, but slow down for the next few. It was like he was being hopeful one moment, then the next, realizing nothing was going to happen. But he continued. He glanced down at a patch of desert, and saw a strange, blinking object. As soon as he took a step towards it, is disappeared under the layers of sand. He didn’t seem to care much about it. A few feet away from the object he saw a patch of desert that seemed to be darker than the rest, like some kind of shadow. He decided they weren’t important, and walked along, clearing his mind of the shadow and the object.
Suddenly, he heard the roaring of an engine behind him. A horn, low and deafening, came from behind also. The man looked behind himself to see an enormous train heading straight for him. He yelled loudly, but noticed the train was not slowing. As soon as the train was but inches from destroying the man, He jumped out of the way, onto the hot sand. He was terrified.
“Who the hell is driving that thing?” the man said aloud, looking at the train, but was instantly silenced, as he saw what was now happening. People were falling out of the train onto the sand with a dull thud. A horrified look scattered across the man’s face as he saw the people, who one by one were falling out. It looked extremely painful, the eight foot drop from the train onto the floor of the desert.
The man quickly jolted to the nearest person who had fallen out. The man noticed the woman whom he jolted to was not moving. He knelt down beside her, and turned her body over. He screamed as he saw the woman had no face, just skin where it belongs. The woman then dissolved into dust, and the only thing that remained in her place was the close she was wearing. The man looked terrified.
“What just happened?!” he yelled out loud. He looked up to every person who had jumped out laying still on the desert floor. He ran up to another person, a male this time, who had a nametag that read ‘Michael Tyrrell.’ The man turned him over, and looked relieved as he saw Michael’s face.
“Where am I, Meredith, where am I?!” Michael yelled. He was frightened, but was becoming
enraged.
“Who’s Meredith?” asked the man who had Michael in his arms “I’m Johnson”.
He looked into Michael’s eyes.
“Oh no…” Michael said. “It hasn’t happened to you yet, has it?”
“This isn’t good. He won’t be happy, that’s for certain.” said Michael, who dissolved just as the woman did before him. The words ‘He won’t be happy’ echoed within Johnson’s mind, and he had been very curious to its meaning.
Johnson then ran to the body of a small child, about three years old. The child was lightly and silently crying. Johnson picked him up.
“Hey, kid, are you there?” said Johnson. The child looked up at him, and turned into a furious state. He started waving his fists at Johnson, and began crying loudly.
“I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m trying to help you!” said Johnson, but the child didn’t stop his attack. Johnson was struggling; trying hard not to drop the squirming figure he hold in his arms, but suddenly, as the child jerked ferociously, he dropped him. As soon as the child hit the ground, it exploded into dust.
Johnson again, looked terrified.
“What is this?!” he cried, very loudly, but not one of the bodies looked up to inform him. Johnson slowly started backing away from the bodies, when he tripped over a stick that had been lying solemnly on the desert ground. He looked up, and the bodies had disappeared. Johnson wondered why they had disappeared, but he was also slightly relieved. He now, was sure this was a figment of his underused imagination, playing tricks on him at the worst of times.
He squinted to see a strange object on the ground near where the bodies once lay. Pancakes? Johnson saw a plate, inhabited by two large golden pancakes, drenched in shiny, dark-brownish syrup. Blueberries graced the side of the plate. Johnson soon realized how hungry and thirsty he was, and suddenly, a tall glass of milk appeared beside the plate. Johnson ran to the plate, ready for a brilliant feast, when just as he lowered his fingers down to the pancakes, they dissolved into dust, and so did the milk, just as the woman, the man, and the child had.
Johnson gave up. He simply sat down, rested his head on his hands, and began to think. How did I get here? Where was I last? But no answer came to him. He laid down on the desert floor, now thinking of nothing. He glanced down at his hand, because it felt strange. It was slowly dissolving into sand, the tips of his fingers already gone. He was suddenly frightened, and he sat back up, and rubbed his hand, but just felt sand and no pain. It began on his other hand, and on his feet. Soon, most of his hands were gone besides one finger. He quickly remembered his life device he had just got repaired, and threw it out of his pocket and pressed an “Emergency” button. But just as soon as he did, his whole finger quickly drained into the dust. He stopped thinking. He fell to the ground, his legs no longer able to support him. Within seconds, his whole body had dissolved into dust, leaving nothing behind but a beeping Life Device.
The Life Device center got to message of Emergency, and sent a police scout and its dog over to Johnson’s location to find out what the problem was. The scout was walking along the dusty rails, when suddenly he fell to the ground. He got back to his feet, but was left with an empty feeling in his mind. What Am I doing here? The scout asked himself, unable to find an answer. He saw his dog had trekked a ways forward of him, so he followed. The dog disappeared out of view. The scout wondered where the dog had gone, but kept walking along the rails. He glanced over to his right, and saw the beeping Life Device. He wondered why it was there, and saw the shadow of Johnson.
The scout then heard the sound of an engine roaring behind him. The scout was quick to jump away, unlike Johnson. After the train had passed him, he too saw many bodies falling out. He counted a total of sixty-one bodies that had just devastatingly fallen eight feet to the ground. The scout was shocked. Before the train disappeared, he pulled out his pistol and ran to the nearest body.
The scout quickly turned over a man’s body, and looked into the face of Johnson.