We were following lines.

The swelter of the sun fell hard and made the soles of our shoes stick quick to our feet. But we could not stop, even if we wanted to. Those that fell were left to the mercy of the sand and the sand had little to give. All we could do was mourn as our feet stepped beyond theirs and even that we dared not risk.

We had to press onward.

We were following lines.

“Just go on by, you’ll reach it.”

“Just go on down, you’ll see it.”

“Keep on going as you are, and it’ll be right there.”

Each told us the same and each was thanked as they passed and heeded.

Go on by. Just go on by.

Sun gave way to moon and clouds to stars and still we went on by. Our limbs grew heavy as the lids of our eyes but we could not stop.

The last of the Hardins, a sixteen year old boy named Silas, dropped to his knees as his eyes flowed tears and he joined his mother and father and two younger sisters.

He in turn was joined by others that night, but there was no comfort in that company.

As dawn broke beyond the mountains to the east, my own brother stole a glance at me as I did him and my stomach sank. He looked to be dead and rotting. He had no shirt, having imparted it to a young girl no older than ten, and what parts of his body weren’t caked in pale sand blistered and burned red. His lips were no more and his mouth had run dry.

I knew then that I would not see him last to nightfall and I was right. As I stepped over him, I kept straight my gaze and thought but one thing.

That young girl was nowhere to be found.

We could not stop.

We were following lines.

Parallel.

Some five feet apart.

They stretched onward to and past the horizon each way. None of us knew where they began or where they ended or whether they ended at all.

Our numbers were thin now—a dozen, maybe. I had no energy to look about and count. We found ourselves at the base of a hill far taller than any hill previously. The sun’s upper half just barely peeked above it, casting us in a long shadow.

I craned my neck to the apex and saw green.

Three steps we had ascended when the first of us fell. Five more and another. I did not recognize them but I was sure I had known them, at some point.

The sun sank fully behind the hill now setting the top of the hill ablaze with golden radiance.

I pressed onward with a newfound vigor and my vision suffered for it. The edges blackened and the center blurred.

My face felt wet as I tumbled upwards, faster, faster.

One last step. There was nobody else now.

I hit air and I fell to my knees and I screamed until my voice collapsed into tiny sobs and my vision completely blackened along with the world.

The last thing I did before sleep found me was reach out my hands in front of me and feel the lines we had followed and how they ended at the feeling of grass.