Jonathan's Desert

Approx. 510 words

by Ann Davie

"It's a hot one today, Rex. Nothing but sun, sand and death out there on the dunes." Jonathan's companion looked up at him. The wolf's icy blue eyes provided him with the only cool relief he'd feel that day.

"I'm sorry to drag you out in this heat, but Gallahad's only hope is for us to find him before the others do." As if understanding the importance of the mission, Rex ran ahead a few yards. His eyes darted to the sand canyon walls either side of the pair, snout following the elusive desert breeze. With a determined certainty, he stopped in his tracks and waited obediently for his master.

Jonathan bent down and scooped up some sand and brought it to his nose. "If I'm not mistaken a camel has been through here." He inhaled again deeply, "And recently, too." He held the handful of sand for Rex to sniff at. "Follow, boy! It may be the only chance we get today!"

The dunes shimmered, oily mirages ebbed and flowed in the midday sun. Jonathan knew he was closing in on the most despised man in the Middle East. A hero to those gullible enough to follow, Gallahad held the secrets that only Jonathan would be able to decipher. No one could understand that man's wicked mind better than his former protege.

Jonathan's legs burned from the effort of running through the shifting sands. The desire to throw off the heavy backpack was strong, almost as strong as his will to succeed and he knew he'd need his rations. Rex disappeared over the next dune. Jonathan fought to keep his fear of being alone at bay. The high pitched yelp cut deep into his gut, bringing all his most dreaded fears into focus.

"Just ten more feet and I'll be there, buddy. Hold on." Jonathan crept on his hands and knees the last few feet and edged his way over the summit.

Down below his spied Gallahad whose red face turned to meet his nemesis.

Jonathan stopped. Was this dread or pleasure? Was he actually glad to see the man? He wasn't nearly as imposing as he'd imagined. He looked almost comical; his eyes squinted, barely perceptible above his sweaty, fat cheeks. Johnathan was seconds away from overpowering him. He was already savouring his success.

"Don't even think about it, Jonnie-boy."

"What?"

"Drop that bottle of water right now. You spill a drop of it and you spend the rest of the vacation in the house. And just what were you doing with Rex? You can't throw a puppy around like that. He almost landed in my lap."

The man stood up and brushed the sand from his shorts. "Come on. Time for lunch. Your mother has the picnic laid out down the beach. I'll race you."

Gallahad may have won this round, but Jonathan knew his day would come. But for now, Gallahad was on the loose and the future of the Middle East was still in his grasp. Tearing off in pursuit, Jonathan knew he would have to hone his skills further to overthrow this crazy, but brilliant, man.

"Dad, do we have any water pistols anywhere?"