Merick- Day Two

Turns out, Alex really couldn't use all that information. Marie and Alex had waited outside for most of the rest of the first day, and then the creatures had started coming out to bask in the night's chill.

It was all good in theory that Alex knew how to catch things. But he didn't really know the process of it. And Merick, after feeling guilty that he hadn't been helping more, had come out to try and see if he'd have better luck catching something.

Well luck, they had all determined, really wasn't on their side.

The dawn came, and with it, the heat.

Merick's throat was raspy, his tongue awkward in his mouth, dry and begging for water of any kind. Marie and Alex weren't better off either.

"So how can we get water then?" Marie had asked about an hour ago. Was it an hour? Merick didn't know anymore. His brain felt foggy, and he felt dizzy whenever he stood. Still, he was stubborn enough not to let this be the end of him.

"We… well I guess we can get is from a cactus… I just thought… I just thought it'd be better off to leave it off, since the water isn't supposed to be that great for us." Alex looked apologetically at his feet. He had long taken off his shoes and socks, and Merick debated doing the same, only the thought of all that could lie under the sand making him waver.

"So should I go and slice open a cactus or something?" Merick didn't know how he'd do it. They had no knives. No pots to perhaps cook any food they would have caught. No firestarter. They had nothing except each other. Which, if Merick was being honest, he would have willingly traded his sister and his friend for some food and water right now.

When neither of them answered, Merick stood, fighting the dizziness, and climbed out of the cave.

The heat hit him, stronger and harder than before, and he wiped his forehead on his arm, breathing heavily already. Stumbling a bit away, the sand sucking his feet downwards, begging him to fall, asking for him to just lie down, Merick made his way towards the closest cactus. The spines looked sharp, but all Merick could imagine was the water resting inside. He rested a hand on the plant, wondering how on Earth he'd even get to the water.

He supposed he could ram a stick in it and hope the water would leak out. He had nothing to collect it with, but he guessed he could just drink as it spilled. He was too desperate to think of anything better, so after he collected a stick from the tree that overarched their cave home, he rammed it into the cactus.

It went through, but nothing happened. And he knew something, at least, should have happened. He groaned loudly, about to kick the plant, but then realizing how stupid that idea was, and then having that feeling that he really didn't care.

He did not, however, kick the cactus. He had enough common sense still left in him.

"Alex!" He called, hating how petulant he sounded, his voice carrying the traces of a childish whine. After a long while- had it been a minute? Could it have been an hour? No, no not an hour, Alex wouldn't keep him waiting for that long. How long would a friend keep another friend waiting? How long was too long?

Alex eventually appeared, moving sluggishly as well. "What?" He muttered as he came over.

"There's no water," Merick complained, and decidedly sat down on the ground, the sand welcoming him. Alex was carrying his journal with him, the one where he always wrote down notes and such, and he seemed on the verge of being annoyed at being disrupted from whatever he was writing.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Well it's not going to just come spewing out like a faucet." He laughed slightly, to curb his temper. "I think you have to get a chunk of it and then wring it out? I… I don't remember that well, and she didn't talk about it in depth." He fidgeted with one of his hands awkwardly.

"It's okay," Merick sighed. "We'll figure it out." He put on a smile, hoping it would put Alex at ease, and together they began to work.

It took hours. Alex didn't know what he was doing, and neither did Merick, which was no surprise there.

They tried slicing the cactus open first, though with no knife it was more like slamming a stick repeatedly into it and hoping enough holes would make the section loose enough to fall. Which did work, in a way. The section gave away, and inside was… hollow. It certainly wasn't dry, but there wasn't exactly drinkable water either. Merick stated at it for a long time, his breathing slow and even.

Eventually, Alex came to the idea they perhaps they were supposed to wring the cactus plant instself free of water- after all, the cactus wasn't a storage for the water, it was using it too.

And it worked. The first squeeze caused all the water to flow onto the ground, the sand lapping it up like a greedy dog. Merick shouted with surprise, and Alex's grin lit up his entire face. Marie even came out to see what had happened, and when they wrung the cactus part again, water streaming out, she began to smile as well.

the y didn't have anywhere to put the water they now had, so for the time being they squeezed a cactus into their own mouths. The water tasted strange, but it was water all the same, and they couldn't afford to be picky. The next order of business would be food, but for now they were good.

Merick was almost able to get the shadowy figure in Marie's photo out of his mind. Almost, but not quite.

The whispers were still there when he stepped into the cave, only more pronounced, still not forming any words thought. The occasional whisper came close to him, breathing at his neck, and he swore he could almost feel a presence there, a hand on his shoulder, a mouth near his ear, constantly whispering… whispering… whispering.

Merick felt a sudden longing for home. Marie had tried to call a few more times, but no luck. He wanted to be home with his parents, sitting on the couch and talking about how terrible this trip was, how he never wanted to be a part of it again. He was desperate for the eneed to just talk to somene about it, for them to tell him it was a nightmare, to laugh it off, to go onto a different subject.

His father would humor him, asking Merick to tell him about the whole experience, only to tell him that the heat of the desert can do strange things to one's mind. His mother would be more careful with her words, giving them serious thought before probably telling him the same thing.

He would have talked to his sister, if only he wasn't supposed to be the big brother for her. And besides… talking to parents, and then someone's sister was a complete different experience. She could end up laughing at him for all he knew. So for now he was alone. Alone with the whispering that plagued him.

It had been at it's worst last night, when Marie and Alex had gone to search for food. He had lain there, unable to move, paralized with the fear that held him. Sometimes he felt like the whispers were indeed whispering his name, seducing him into a lull of deeper paranoia, his mind unable to escape its hold, his feet unable to move.

'Merick…' he imagined it whispering. 'Merick.' what was 'it' anyway? Were the others haunted as he was, the whispers hounding after them? The feeling of someone behind him, the distinct chill crawling up his spine, climbing through his bones, his very insides squirming with discomfort? Did they feel that too?

Or was he the only one going crazy?