Desert

Zara squinted against the glare of the twin suns, her weathered hand shielding her eyes as she surveyed the endless expanse of dunes. The desert stretched to the horizon in every direction, broken only by the occasional rocky outcropping or withered scrub brush. She took a swig from her canteen, savoring the precious liquid as it soothed her parched throat. Behind her, the ramshackle collection of domed structures that made up Oasis Settlement 23 huddled against the harsh landscape. Zara could hear the low hum of the atmospheric moisture collectors working overtime, struggling to extract every last droplet from the arid air. It was never enough. ...

The heat shimmered off the cracked earth, distorting Nora’s view of the horizon as she stepped out of the rusted bus. Sweat already beaded on her forehead, and she squinted against the harsh sunlight. The remote desert town of Al-Safiya sprawled before her—a jumble of sun-bleached buildings and narrow streets that seemed to have sprung up haphazardly from the barren landscape. Nora hitched her backpack higher on her shoulders and made her way down the dusty main street. The few locals she passed regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. She was clearly an outsider here, her fair skin and Western clothing setting her apart. ...

The scorching desert sun beat down mercilessly as Nora Reeves stepped off the rickety bus into Mirage Springs. A wave of heat shimmered off the cracked pavement, distorting her view of the dusty town. She squinted, adjusting the strap of her heavy backpack while taking in the sun-bleached buildings and sparse vegetation. “Welcome to paradise,” drawled the bus driver sarcastically as he tossed her duffel bag onto the ground. Nora shot him an unamused look, but he had already slammed the doors shut and was pulling away in a cloud of exhaust. ...

The scorching Arizona sun beat down on Milo Prickles’ weathered face as he shuffled across the cracked earth of his desert sanctuary. His gnarled hands, scarred from decades of handling prickly plants, gently caressed the spines of a towering saguaro cactus. “There, there, Bertha,” he cooed, his voice gravelly from years of disuse. “I know you’re thirsty, but the rains will come soon. You just have to be patient.” Milo’s eyes, still sharp despite his advancing years, scanned the horizon. The familiar silhouette of red rock formations shimmered in the heat haze, but something was different today. A plume of dust rose in the distance, signaling an approaching vehicle. ...