Rebirth of a Rock Tumbler
"Stuck out here in the middle of nowhere doing desert duty with you," Cross-Country groaned. "The perfect end to a perfect week!"
"Oh shut up," Dusty grumbled. "You're not the only one pining for Cover Girl so don't talk to me!"
A tall Native American in black approached them. His long black hair flowed in the wind. "What has happened, has happened. You must dwell on the moment instead of the past."
"You know Spirit ever since you got that new uniform you have an even more Zen like approach to life," Dusty told him. "And I hate it a lot."
"Oh let's just check out that satellite tracking station and get it over with," Cross-Country grumbled as they drove their motorcycles along the desert. "Some job, driving around the desert babysitting unmanned satellite tracking stations. I mean what could possibly happen?"
"You were saying?" Spirit pointed at the destruction before them. The station was destroyed, covered in rock and twisted metal. There was a huge crater where it used to be.
"Holy mother of…" Cross-Country's jaw opened. They stopped their vehicles. Spirit, who was the Joe's tracker as well as an accomplished martial artist, began looking for clues.
"Geeze," Dusty groaned. "What could have done this?"
"I think a more appropriate question is who could have done this," Spirit picked up what was left of Lance's helmet.
"I recognize that!" Dusty said. "That's that fruit bowl one of the Brotherhood wears. I think he's called Avalanche."
"Please tell me it's because he likes to drive pickup trucks," Cross-Country groaned.
"He makes earth tremors," Spirit said. "I read the file they had on all the Brotherhood members."
"Oh wonderful," Cross-Country groaned. "Well at least Cobra's not responsible for once."
"Some reason that does not make me happy," Dusty frowned.
"There's something odd about these tracks." Spirit looked. One disappears, but the other ends up under that pile of rocks. Where I found this."
"What are you saying?" Dusty asked.
Spirit looked around. "He was buried under here," He indicated the rocks. "And not by choice," He pointed to the barbed wire covered with blood. "He's injured. There's a trail leading out into the desert. He went that way." He started to walk the path Lance left.
"I don't suppose we could go the other way huh?" Cross-Country grumbled.
"I guess we'd better follow him," Dusty sighed.
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"Well this isn't bad, as far as self made graves are concerned…" The imaginary coyote told him.
"JUST SHUT UP!" Lance screamed. "Let me think. I did this…so I can undo it right?" It was already getting hard to breathe. He put his hands in the dirt. "Have to think…have to focus…."
He felt some kind of energy pulse through his body. It was like a heartbeat. He felt himself being drawn into the rhythm. Faster and faster it pulsed through his body, becoming stronger, almost overpowering him. Then the images came. Images of creatures and people that lived and died on the desert, what plants grew in it, what the soil was made up of. Centuries of change and erosion flicked through him in seconds. Hundreds of lifetimes of knowledge came to him.
It was so much. Too much for him to handle. He called out to the earth to help him. To release him from this hold. He felt the ground shift beneath his feet. The dirt passed before his eyes as he was propelled upwards. Faster and faster until he was expelled from his self made prison.
Lance rose out of the ground with a scream. He gulped in the warm air greedily as soon as he spat out the soil from his mouth and nostrils. "I did it!" He yelled. He looked below him. He was standing on solid ground again. He moved away and laughed at the ground. It was if nothing had ever disturbed it.
Weakly he sank to his knees. Then he collapsed on the ground, giggling. "I'm alive…I'm alive." He kept repeating that until he passed out. About an hour later he woke up. He woke up groggily. It was hot and he could feel his exposed skin had gotten red with sunburn. He got up and looked around. He could have sworn he had heard something.
The noise behind him made him turn around. He saw a coyote advancing towards him. "Oh it's you," Lance said. Then he noticed there were other coyotes. "What did you bring your friends here for a party or something?"
The only reply Lance got was a loud snarl. "Why do I get the feeling that this is not good?" Lance gulped as the coyotes advanced.
