perpendicular to my path. It was little more than a dirt indentation, wide enough for two cars to pass side by side, but it looked worn and well used. Across the road from the car was a sign, and I absentmindedly strolled to it, wanting to get a look.
“Warning Remote Areas Ahead,” it said in the top header, and below it went through a list of precautions, none of which I was respecting.
“Nice warning,” I mumbled, the sound of my rasping voice surprising and painful at the same time.
Another sign was off to my left, farther down the road. It was a yellow square with a Kangaroo drawn on it, with another square below listing “10 km” as a warning to drivers.
I had a choice to make on this road: head right into the nothingness or left through the Kangaroo crossing, and it wasn’t a difficult one to make. Heading one way would find me at a light source, probably a settlement and help. Going the wrong way would mean more desert, and probably death by dehydration. In the end, I went the kangaroo way. I figured if one crossed my path, I could catch it and eat it.
I started making plans in my head for how to catch one. As I stumbled down the road, I noticed dried brambles on the sandy ground that I could use to start a fire to cook the thing. Then again, I was so hungry I could probably eat it raw. I started gathering sticks as I travelled down the road. It soon took a sharp turn to the left around a copse of bushes. Clearing the foliage, I came upon a small stream that rolled over the road.
I rushed the water, stumbled, and fell. I crawled to the edge and threw my upper body into the rippling waves. It was a shallow creek, no deeper than my waist at its deepest, and the water was freezing cold. I opened my mouth and let the silted water rush in, swallowing as much sand as anything else, but feeling refreshed nonetheless. Another bolt locked into place, another piece of evidence that this was the firmament of reality. Nothing I’d partaken of in the dream world had tasted as sweet as this cloudy, bitter water. Once I had sated myself, I sat on my knees and inched forward, soaking my midsection and legs, splashing water all over my aching body.
Then I stopped.
Something about the creek wasn’t right. Maybe it was the creatures of the night, now deadly silent, but I felt ill at ease, and I knew something was watching me. The water in front of me was still, but I got a glimpse of a dark, shadowy creature moving through the shallow water toward me.
It was a crocodile. The biggest animal I had seen in my life, with a head roughly the size of my upper torso and a long tail that extended more than twenty feet behind it. The beast knew I had spotted it and it was still, worried that it might have ruined the ambush.
We sat there in the darkness, facing off. I could see more shapes rippling in the water, kept at bay by the bulk of the beast who had claimed me but waiting their turn should he fail to make me a meal. But the big bastard didn’t attack. Maybe it was confused. I made no move to run as prey did. I should have tried to stand and escape before it killed me, but that’s what it was waiting for.
Instead, it just studied me, its only movement a swift shake of its tail when another competitor got too close.
I stood, coming to my full height. It tensed, eager to strike, but instead of moving away, I stepped toward it.
I walked right at the croc.
“You want a piece of me?” I snarled. “You’re going to have to earn it.”
I had little strength left to fight a crocodile, much less a flock of them, but I wasn’t going to cower. I wasn’t going to back down.
Another step took me into the beast’s personal space, and my next step brought my bare foot down on its head. The croc panicked, splashed water all over the bank, and rushed away from me. The whole creek exploded with activity as the other crocs recoiled. A frantic moment later the creek was silent again. The only thing disturbing the peaceful night was the slow rippling of the water on the edge of the