It went on forever.435Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4GxWcwFbpc
It went on forever, and he'd never get out.
Everywhere Kirk looked, with his sand-gritted eyes, he saw red desert. Sand and rock. And the sun, dominating the hazy sky and burning every drop of water out of him. Turning him into dust. Dust that a burning wind would scatter away to nothing.
"Come on," he urged himself in the strange croaking voice which was now his. "You're going crazy. Straighten up."
Nothing about him was the same. The desert had changed him. HIs clothes were shredded, his flesh cracked and blistered and horribly dry. There were scratches etched all over him. He couldn't see very well, couldn't even walk without wobbling and stumbling.
The desert refused to end, and he was going to die here.
"Straighten up," he croaked to himself again. "You're going to live, goddamn it! Live and expose these bastards!"
Something loomed on the right. A huge mound of red rock. Enough rock to make shade.
Cox laughed. Even such a small boon as a little shade, a little protection from the burning sun, could cheer him tremendously. He tried to make a run for it, but he fell.
And while he lay sprawled in the sand, he heard the sound.
He knew it as well as the escaped prisoner knows the baying of the tracking dogs. A chopper.
"Those sons of bitches never give up. Never."
He crawled, crawled in a desperate, hurrying way. Struggling, fighting to reach the slim sanctuary of the rocks.
When you listen for something so intensely, listen for it even when you're trying to grab a quick nap, you sometimes think you hear when it's not there.
This wasn't a hallucination, though. There was a chopper come hunting him again.
He made it to the rocks, dragged himself into a strip of shade. He caught his breath, though that caused his throat and lungs to blaze with pain.
"Not gonna catch me," he vowed.
He was going to make it, going to survive. And pay them back. Every damn one of them. Roddenberry and all those crew-cut bastards in the "sincere" suits.
After a while, in a setup like this, everything drops away. Life becomes very simple. You stay alive, and you wait for the time when you get your revenge.
He was going to have that revenge, nobody was going to rob him of that!"
The sound intensified, the rotor blades chopping furiously at the air.
"They didn't see me," he said, nearly sure of that. "But they will."
He raised his head, glanced around. A few feet away was a darker spot in the shadows. Some kind of cave formed between the rocks. If he could get in there, then he'd be safe.
It seemed to take a hell of a time, crawling through the shade to that hole. All the while the chopper came closer and closer.
Finally, he was inside. There was barely enough room for him. By tucking in his legs, he fit.
They were almost directly overhead!
It took Kirk almost half a minute to become aware of the other sound---a dry rattling sound, coming from the snake that was about two feet from his head!
The barbed wire fence was in sad shape, and the warning sign was so faded by time that it no longer held any threat. Burgos Army Air Force Base. Closed January 13, 1948. Authorized Personnel Only!
Cox parked his borrowed car off the desert road and hopped out. About 1/4 of a mile away was an old hangar. "This could be the place."
He lifted the old barbed wire with caution and crawled under it. He walked across a dry field to the hangar, wary.
Nothing happened, nobody challenged him.
There was a formidable lock on the hangar doors. An old lock, but one that would require a struggle to pick. Slowly, Cox circled the building. No windows. The only other door was also locked.
Then he noticed the ventilation opening. The louvered cover didn't look too strong. Kneeling, he got it off and set it aside. He peered into the opening. All he saw was the inside of the vent. It looked large enough for a reasonably slim reporter to get through, however.435Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw909uhUQnn
He decided to try.
Cox emerged, considerably dusty, in a totally empty hangar. Every step he took around the place echoed.
"Wrong again, apparently," he said, angrily kicking at the dusty floor. "Doesn't look like anybody's been here since the fabulous '40s."
A small amount of sunlight came in through the vent, turning the dust a golden color.
Cox explored the hangar.
It was possible this was the exact spot he was looking for. They could have changed it, made it look exactly as it had.
Possible, unfortunately, didn't make any headlines. Facts did. Truths you could prove.435Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvQpAIvyUqn
For just an instant something flashed yellow over against the wall. Probably just a mote of dust, but Cox decided to check it out anyway.
It turned out to be a wedding ring, lying close to the hangar wall, and nearly covered with dust. He blew the dust off, sneezed, and squinted at the inscription, which ran around the ring's inside.
"Holy shit!" he exclaimed, laughing.
Engraved on the ring were the words Jim from Jan 7/24/65.435Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ65pf7pZ95n
Cox closed his fingers around the ring. "Eureka!" he cried.
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