Scuffed boots autonomously followed the cracked highway that bisected red dirt. Sun beating my back, thirst itching my throat.
That’s when I saw the corpse by the side of the road. Another poor schmuck consumed by this toxic realm.
I prodded at the body with my walking stick. Leaving sickly circular indentations in pallid flesh, sending dark flies into the air.
No reaction.
Slowly I reached down, parting clothing, searching for treasure.
That’s when its mouth popped open, a groan, hand scrabbling at dirt. Raising its head, the face expressionless, clawing at my leg.
I fled, boots pounding.
It followed.