And If They Get Me and the Sun Goes Down

[Polybius]

((Anatoly Orlovsku continued from The Dream Machina Takes Us All))

The sun made its descent in the west, turning the desert sky a warm orange as the shrubs and rocks of the ground fell into shadow. Anatoly was currently sitting with his back to one of those rocks, his legs splayed out as Claudia's sandals hung limply from his hands.

He shouldn't have stayed behind to talk to Isabella. What had he been thinking? Now he'd lost the girl's in the desert. So much for the sworn alliance. He searched and searched until he really began to feel it. The weakness, the fatigue. The gaping hole in his chest that screamed at him, telling him that he needed more. Anatoly had always felt this way back home, but it was worse out here. Not just draining and distracting, but painful.

Obviously, a big part of that was due to Anatoly not having his meds. But there was more to it. Just a few short hours earlier, Anatoly had been the strongest he'd been in years. But now he was back to being… like this. He'd nearly forgotten how heart-renching it was to come back down. He'd almost forgotten the part of himself that was always missing. But he'd had it back. Just for a moment…

Movement in his peripheral vision. Anatoly's head slowly swiveled around. A tiny figure stood upright against the orange sky. Through the shadow he could make out a long body coated in brown fur. A prairie dog. Only a couple of pounds, probably only a scant few ounces of blood. Inferior animal blood, at that. Not worth the trouble.

Yet the hole in his chest screamed.

Anatoly slowly and methodically got to his feet. Standing in a sort of hunched over half-crouch, he methodically stepped towards the prairie dog. His right hand closed tightly around its sandal, and he raised his arm as he approached. Slowly. Silently. Like a real apex predator.

Anatoly wasn't even able to get within six feet of the rodent. Without warning, it collapsed onto all fours and darted away. Anatoly threw the sandal at it. The shoe went wide, rolling uselessly across the ground as the prairie dog disappeared into a pitch black hole in the sand. Anatoly darted at the hole and started scooping up the sand for a few mad seconds before he gave up and flipped onto his back.

There was another shadow blocking out his view of the orange sky. A camera attached to one of the higher shrubs looked at him.

"This is so stupid." Anatoly said. He rolled into his side and shut his eyes.

"What's the point of this? What do you even gain here?" He mumbled. "You're just killing a bunch of kids for no reason. No reason."

His mind went back to the little announcement. He was likely gonna die by the end of the day. So what was the point of worrying about blood? They were supposed to have five days, but now they might only have one.

"You can't change the rules of the game just because you're losing. So stupid."

Anatoly thought that maybe he should just go to sleep. If his head was gonna be blown off, he didn't want to be awake for it. He curled up in the sand. It was as comfortable a bed as he could hope for out here. He must have fallen asleep surprisingly easily, because he didn't remember anything after that

He dreamt of a swarm of flying spiders tearing an owl apart limb by limb. Anatoly licked up the remains. But it wasn't enough. Claudia and Selene weren't enough, either. Nothing would make the need go away. But then a bright light broke through his suffering, and Anatoly opened his eyes.

It was morning. His head was still on. The air crackled with the sound of names. Pain and nausea shot through his body. Fuck it all. Anatoly rose shakily, chest filled with purpose. He ran.

((Anatoly Orlovsky continued elsewhere))