There was no sight of Vinh; no sight of Yayli or Carter. As a matter of fact, he was in a completely different location than before.
A vast expanse of desert stretched around him as he stood on a dune. He looked down only to find that the crops had disappeared and he was surrounded by a mere patch of desert grass.
The full moon hung on the sky, casting menacing shadows on the waves of dunes that rose and fell all around him. Fear crawled around his body like thin spider legs. He was all alone in a desert and to make matters worse, it was nighttime. Back home, he couldn't even bike deep in the alley at nighttime without his brother. This situation was a whole different beast. His heart reached his throat and he had trouble maintaining his own sanity as he jerked his body around in search of false movements within the shadows. Just when things were getting close to making sense, everything turned upside down.
What the heck is going on? He wrapped his arms around him. The cold struck him as odd because he had always thought of deserts as hot hells.
Riyad instantly turned around at the crunchy sound of hooves dipping into the sand. A camel leisurely emerged above the dune. It looked bored with its dull eyes and its uninterrupted chewing. There was a man swaying on his back with his whole body covered with frayed, brown clothes. Only his eyes were exposed, but even then, they were barely visible.
The camel stopped before Riyad.
"What are you doing here, child?" The man spoke with a thick Arabic accent.
"Uh," Riyad forced himself to talk, "I'm lost."
"Are you really?" The man simply shrugged and looked away. "You think you are lost but you are exactly where Allah wants you to be."
"What?" Riyad frowned. He looked back at the camel, but the camel continued to look ahead as if it weren't even aware of his existence. The chewing bothered him more than it should've. What the heck is this guy going on about? Why isn't he even surprised to see me?
He looked around the desert animal and noticed another person sitting by the edge of the dune right behind it with one of his feet planted on the sand. Only half of his body was exposed. The man grabbed a handful of sand and let it sip through the bottom of his fist. The sand blew sideways like a piece of fabric.
The half of his body was a warning enough for Riyad to begin running for his life again. He didn't bother taking a look back at Vinh as he stumbled down the dune. The sand desperately tried to grab onto his feet, but Riyad was quicker. As he neared the bottom of it, he made a jump for the ground.
The ground drew further and further from his legs until the sand blew away and Riyad found himself flapping his hands to balance himself on the ridge of a gable roof.
What the heck! He looked around himself. The red paint and the swishes of the roof made him assume that he was somewhere in China, which made as little sense as suddenly appearing in the desert. At this point, all he could do was shut out his mind so he wouldn't go insane. He jerked his head back and saw Vinh had also come with him and he was already walking toward him in the same manner as the Camel.
God! Once more, Riyad began his run. This time, he was careful not to slip. The house was much higher than the ones he ran on in Veleen. To make matters worse, the moon was hiding behind a layer of clouds and the slithering fogs didn't help with the visibility, either. All he could see in the distance was the tip of another house across. Before he even got closer to the edge of the roof, he already charged himself for a short jump onto the next roof.
Then, he jumped. But he never made it to the next roof. Instead, he was blasted by sunlight as he landed on a street. One of his knees struck the ground and his hand planted next to it to balance himself, which was not an easy task since the earth seemed to be rumbling all around him.
Don't tell me I'm in a middle of an earthquake... Riyad clutched the helmet.
The street he stood on was narrow and the houses around him were shoulder to shoulder around him. The white houses and their blue windows made him feel as if he had seen pictures of this place before, but he didn't want to wait and contemplate on it while the ground slowly gave away beneath his feet.
He began sprinting. The ground beneath his foot continuously broke away split seconds before he ran past it. From the corner of his eyes, he could see a blur of an ocean peeking in and out of the houses. Is this Santorini? If the whole island would get destroyed, then he would be completely out of luck.
He slowed down as he mazed around fallen rubbles and wobbly houses that looked like they were able to crash onto him.
I can't believe I made it this far! He realized that he spoke too soon as he skidded to a halt. The path ahead of him was completely destroyed and exposed the cliff that was hiding behind. There was no way he would be able to make it down the cliff. He lucked out from any other plans as well since he was completely surrounded by rubbles.
Think! Think! He charged a step back. It's either running down the cliff or end up dead.
Riyad jumped onto the broken pieces of buildings right by the edge of the cliff and looked down. The ground wasn't as steep as he had expected, but it was uneven and it went on for miles. He wasn't quite sure if he was about to run into his own death as he had never run down a mountain of this size before.
I don't even care if I die anymore... He stomped his feet to stop his shakings. The rubbles beneath his feet began shifting for another round. With a deep exhale, he jumped down and instantly began sprinting out of control. His legs were a mind of their own and the more he wanted to slow down, the stronger gravity pulled. It would take only a single piece of rock and he would be flying down the mountain.
Then something strange happened. The ground beneath his feet felt softer and slightly hollow and his feet began making thumping sounds instead of the slapping noise. He felt little drops of water on his face. There were muffled yellings all around him, but there was no one around him.
What the— The steepness de-escalated until the ground was completely flat and once he looked down his feet, he saw a wooden floor. He looked up and the sunlight instantly doused away as if someone blew a candle.
Riyad found himself in a completely different setting. He was on a ship with people who were wearing strange clothes and hats. They seemed to be battling one another with swords! The ship creaked and groaned in protest and the sails fluttered angrily at the storm.
"I will have my revenge!" Someone yelled behind Riyad.
Make this stop, please! He could feel the aching muscles catching up to him and his breathing was becoming harsher. The swaying of the ship made him stumble left and right while he tried to avoid getting his arms sliced off by the pirates.
Riyad didn't know where he wanted to go, but his legs were on autopilot. For a moment, he wondered if he would ever be able to stop running. He didn't have to wait long for the answer; the ship took a nosedive into the ocean and he bumped into a pirate with an eye patch. Riyad three-sixtied back to his path and found himself completely surrounded by darkness. The screaming and the clanking of swords instantly cut out.
With half of his balance, he continued to stumble forward until he bumped into a metallic stick, which he quickly grabbed onto. It was a thin stick with something weighty and groovy on the top.
What's next? Riyad prepared himself for the unexpected.
It seemed as if his thoughts were heard as he was once again, blinded by lights. This time, however, the source was artificial, round lights that cannoned him with full force. The sound of the lamps echoed around him as Riyad shaded his eyes. He could swear that the heat of the lights was warming his wet body.
He looked down at what he was holding and saw a golden, vintage mic. He instantly looked back up. Am I...on a stage? He had a feeling that there was a whole audience of people sitting across him — staring at him and only him — but his whole view was fogged by the blaze of the lights and the floating dirt in the rays. The only visible things were the mic on the stand and the red, wooden stage floor.
"Our next contestant is-s-s-s John Johan-Johnston!" A speaker above him boomed with an old man's voice.
The audience applauded.
Am I going crazy... Riyad's toes curled. All of a sudden, he became aware of his soaked hair, his dirty face, and his wet clothes. He clumsily put the helmet over his head and accidentally banged his forehead.
The helmet clasped around his neck. As he looked around him, he realized just how light and comfortable it was. If it weren't for the lightly tinted visor, he wouldn't even notice if the helmet were to somehow come off. He was safe now.
The rain of applause finally stopped. He squinted at the audience, but the fog of the lights wouldn't budge. The applause itself didn't seem convincing enough to confirm the presence of human life.
"Which song will you be performing today?" The announcer spoke once more. Riyad jerked his head back, in hope of seeing the announcer but instead, his eyes were met with red, velvet curtains.
No, this isn't a dream. I've gone insane. Riyad let out a breath of laughter.
He faced the mic and coughed lightly to test it.
The overly loud cough was instantly followed by a long high pitched sound from the mic that made him wince.
"C'mon now, young man! Tell us which song you will be performing tonight!"
The droplets of water falling from his clothes boomed against the silence as they hit the stage. Riyad grabbed the mic and pointed it down to his mouth and the high-pitched sound returned. He could hear the audience murmuring in front of him. His mind went blank as to what he should've been doing. Should he yell for help? Should he ask where he was?
"Don't keep us waiting now!" The voice reminded Riyad of his Chemistry teacher asking him to speak up as he stood in front of the class with his scribbled flashcards.
"Uh...um," he stammered, "I'll be performing...I Thought You Wanted To Dance by Tyler,"
The audience applauded again. All the lights around Riyad dimmed away into the soft darkness before a blinding spotlight crashed onto him. He heard some audience gasping, but they were quickly muffled away by the music.
Riyad's body squeeze itself into a rectangle as the swirly music poured out of the speakers. He was crying again. He was glad that the astronaut helmet slightly shaded his face.
Tyler's deep, raspy voice shook the stage: "The plan was to stick my toe in and... check the temperature but...next thing I know...I'm drownin'."
Riyad almost choked on his gulp.
"Appelle-moi si tu te perds," spoke a French girl.
A melody of soft piano rained in and Riyad began snapping rigidly to the beat, so he could appear normal. There could either be ten or a hundred people sitting in front of him.
"So what makes you think..." he sang, "I'm not in lo-o-o-ve." his voice was dry and echoey.
The crowd's murmurs grew louder.
"How could you know...what's best for us." He swayed stiffly. "Why am I here... Standing alo—"
The music suddenly turned off and the spotlight gave away to darkness. The hall became filled with an abrupt silence.
The announcer spoke again. "Er, my apologies. It appears that we have the wrong contestan— . What's that?" The man's clothes rustled away from the mic. His voice was barely audible: "How am I supposed to know..."
Someone else whispered: "...does he look like a John to you...there's literally an arrow stuck..."
Riyad realized that his cover had been exposed and if he didn't make a run for his life right now, they could send him to jail. He looked left and right and knocked the mic as he began running the way he came from. The mic hit the floor and the high-pitched noise returned.
The audience gasped.
He expected to hit the curtains, but there was nothing blocking his run.
Did I go the wrong way? The wood beneath his feet felt wet and liquidy. His feet began dragging in it until it eased into what felt like cold water.
The sound of a wave rose behind him and with it, brought forth the next world. The wave hit his legs from the back and Riad stumbled down. This time the world slowly lit around him and lingered halfway. He was on some kind of a beach with a lazy, thin moon laying in the sky. There were silhouettes of palm trees in the distance and the rest were in the darkness.
Riyad was too tired to make himself stand up. Instead, he sat on his heels and rested with his palms in the water. The water slowly became visible until he was able to see his hands rippling in it. He would've spent the rest of the night right on that spot if it weren't for the pungent seaweed smell that penetrated the helmet. He pushed his knee into standing and began dragging his feet down the beach. He wasn't sure where he was going. All he was doing was stalling time until Vinh would take him into the world.
It seemed as if his thoughts were heard once more as the water began sloshing behind him. He didn't even have to look back to know who it was.
Riyad's legs dragged even more as he tried to speed up. Why are you toying with me? Go to hell, Vinh. He felt the tears coming out again, but this time, it felt more like streams. After being around Vinh so many times, his fear of him slightly doused, but he still didn't want to hang around him and have a conversation. Now, the fears had turned into anger and frustration. Riyad grew tired of being the ball on the court and waiting to hit the net. Somewhere along the way, he realized that he was never going to reach that point unless he took charge.
Now, everything seemed to be fueling his sour mood: the lame moon, the stupid water, the dumb sands that were clotting between his toes... He could've been holding hands with Yayli for Christ's sake! He looked up to see where he was going and only now, he noticed a thin crack on the visor, right above his forehead. Riyad stopped.
I'm done running away from you.
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