After hours of walking, the sun noticeably inched toward the horizon. Its warm glow was both beautiful and intimidating at the same time. Like the steppe it seemed as though it might swallow her. Still, her mind wandered elsewhere, and she decided at that point to find something to eat and a place to sleep. She looked all around only to find tufts of grass on the barren landscape.

Well, she knew that plants were edible. She’d learned that from her father. Maybe that grass might be edible. It looked similar to the spices seen in food, after all. Or a little bit, at least.

Perhaps it came from overthinking, maybe from not thinking at all, but she stepped off to the side of the road and grabbed a fistful of grass. She stared at it. Hmm, she thought. The fuzzy lumps at the end didn’t look appetizing, so she twisted them off. Then staring at it long and hard, she held her breath and stuffed it into her mouth.

The grass had no real taste except… dusty. But it was not the taste that bothered her. It was the texture. It neither crunched nor dissolved, but rather flexed and twisted in her mouth, no matter how much she chewed.

After trying not to spit it out, she managed to chew it into a chunky, slimy pulp, which she spent a considerable time fighting past her gag reflex. Even then, bits of it clung to her parched palate. So she spat the rest of it out.

While she didn’t puke, she nevertheless decided she had had enough grass for the night. Now choking on dried bits of grass still stuck in her throat, she looked for something else. She didn’t know how to hunt, but there had to be something to eat out here.

The chirping of crickets caught her ear as the evening progressed. She followed the sound to a nearby clump of grass and began rummaging around it. A jumping speck soon caught her eye and she chased it down. A cricket! She soon caught it and held it between her fingers. Her stomach turned as the cricket struggled to get free, but it also growled ever louder, and however horrible it might taste, she figured it couldn’t be any worse than grass.

Without any further contemplation she ate it. It too tasted like dust, but the texture was much more palatable, if not strangely crunchy. She spent the rest of the day hunting down more, until she was still hungry but too tired to search. So she found a spot between clumps of grass that looked safe and lay down. As she watched the sun set, thoughts crept into her mind. She thought how strange it was that she was even here, far away from the town of her birth. She knew she couldn’t go back.

Then she thought of why she ended up here. Just before self-pity overtook her she remembered: she stole. More than that, she’d helped that boy steal, knowingly. The list of crimes she’d committed on the streets dawned on her.

But those people deserved it, she thought. They’re so heartless. Her welling hatred for humanity was quickly cut off at the thought of her parents.

Her parents. She hadn’t thought of them in a while. Would they condone her actions?

No, she thought. I let them down. They loved me, and raised me better than this.

Deep down she knew they would be disappointed, and she was ashamed. Just a few minutes ago she’d hated people. Now she hated herself. She didn’t know how she could live with what she had become, a street urchin on the run for petty theft. Now she knew that nobody would take her. She had no home, nor would she ever have one. She didn’t deserve one.

All these thoughts and more occupied Chloe’s mind as the sky turned dark. She lay awake on the ground staring up at the sky. There was no moon out, but the stars shone more brilliantly than ever. Chloe never knew there were this many. She’s spent so much time indoors. Eventually she forgot about her troubles as she counted each star and soon fell asleep.

~

Unfortunately that was the extent of sleep she had. The night, while beautiful, soon showed its ugly side. At first the only sounds were the soothing hum of insects, which lulled Chloe to sleep. Soon other, less benevolent sounds began to join in.

Chloe started awake at a high pitched cry. Sitting bolt upright, she looked around frantically to see where it was. There it was again from behind her. This time she realized it was very far away. This did not comfort her, though, as it meant the creature could be anywhere or anything. Her imagination soon filled in the blanks. To her it could have been anything from a wild dog to a leopard.

Ugh. The thought of a leopard out there, ready to pounce on her and eat her…

A second cry soon joined the first, much farther away. The two disembodied voices continued in eerie conversation, moving around both further and nearer.

Strange grunts, rustlings, and howls plagued the darkness, and suddenly she felt more vulnerable than she had during the day. Every time she fell asleep she shot awake again, huddling herself onto a ball, praying for daylight to come.

~

Eventually the daylight did come, waking her up from the sleep she didn’t know she had. The next few days were much like the first. After having some difficulty finding the road, she continued to walk, stopping only for water which she found under the rocks and food which consisted of grass and insects. Her stomach and throat did not thank her for this. In fact, they revolted, feeling both upset and unsatisfied. Nevertheless Chloe trudged on.

One thing that slowly dawned on her was how empty the Badlands truly were. Not so much in terms of geography (although that was very much the case), but in terms of people. She could spend an entire day walking down the path and not see so much as a car, let alone a house. Then it occurred to her she hadn’t said a word for days (or weeks? She’d long since lost count) on end. There was nobody to talk to.

Then loneliness set in. Her former avowed hatred for people flipped, becoming a yearning for any kind of human contact, no matter how small.

So whenever she did see a human structure in the distance, she unconsciously gravitated toward it. This proved to be a dangerous affair, however, as the inhabitants were not exactly welcoming.

Once she came upon a farming shack she caught the aroma of roasting meat. Taking huge whiffs of air, she licked her parched lips (she noticed her mouth wasn’t watering because she hadn’t much to drink). Upon closer inspection, it was a farming couple cooking lamb over an open spit.

Almost instinctively Chloe crept closer without knowing why. She wasn’t trying to hide, but she felt guilty coming up to them.

The farmer caught her, however, and assumed by her posture that she was up to no good. Before she could even ask, Chloe found herself running in terror from an angry farmer threatening her with a fire poker.

Other times she had a bit more luck. She eventually grew to avoid people no matter how lonely she was. However she found other farming settlements, some of which had food readily available outside. Though she felt a twinge of guilt at taking what wasn’t hers, she had to eat nonetheless.

She also started moving at night, despite how frightening it could be. The sun had burnt her skin to the point it constantly cracked and peeled. It stung to lie down and even move, but she had to overcome the pain and move on. At least at night the sun was no longer blazing down on her.

As the days passed on, her stomach shrank and she started to feel faint from the lack of water. She didn’t even know how long it had been since she had started down the path, a path which never seemed to end. Step by step. Shelter to shelter, sometimes sleeping on the bare ground. That was her life, and she didn’t know how much longer she could continue. What was her destination? Did she even have one?

~

Her answer soon came. One night as she was travelling she heard a distant wailing.

A train! It seemed to come directly down the path, too. She picked up the pace, not knowing why she was so excited to see a train. Perhaps it was the chance to find shelter. Perhaps it was out of loneliness. Or perhaps it was to break up the sheer monotony of crossing the Badlands.

She followed the sound until she could see a light in the distance. As she got closer, she could pick out the silhouette of moving cars. Finally growing excited, she ran as fast as her emaciated body could carry her.

The road eventually petered out altogether and crisscrossed with a singular rusty railroad track. To Chloe it looked too old and frail to support anything, but there it was. The train was long gone by the time she reached the track. Nevertheless, she could still hear the horn in the distance. Having nothing better to do, she followed it.

She spent the next two days following the track. As she progressed, she picked up on subtle changes in her surroundings. The old run-down farming huts that so sparsely dotted the Badlands were replaced by strange moving distant shapes. Upon seeing the ones closer by the track, Chloe immediately knew what they were. Oil pumps. The further she went the more she saw. Along with them eventually came rising plumes of smoke and flame. Drilling towers. The acrid smell of burning oil only grew in intensity. Perhaps she shouldn’t be here, she thought. This could be dangerous, and there was nothing to eat at an oil tower.

And food was a pressing issue. Chloe’s stomach had shrunk significantly over the course of her walk. More than that, the lack of water began to show itself in earnest. Parchment set into full on dehydration. The further she walked, the dizzier she became. Sometimes she had to sit for hours on end just to keep from fainting. If she did not find steady food and drink soon, she would die, and she knew it.

As she continued, she soon heard another train horn coming directly toward her. Not entirely in her right mind, she figured she could climb onto one of the cars and hitch a ride just so she wouldn’t have to walk. She picked up her pace as much as she could and soon saw the headlights.

Her excitement evaporated as the light got nearer and horn grew louder. Suddenly she felt the urge to scamper away. The silhouette grew to a giant hulking mass that roared past, rumbling its engines and blaring its horn, its cargo of tanker cars clattering past.

Chloe decided to keep her distance. Hitchhiking wasn’t a good idea.

Despite her newfound fear, she continued down the railroad track. Unfortunately, her strength soon started to fail her. The landscape and oil structures all blended together as she thought only of taking the next step.

When the moonlight was high and night full, Chloe’s failing eyes picked out yet another light in the distance. A train? No, she thought. The tracks went another way. A vehicle? She sat down to regain her balance and watched. It didn’t move. Neither did it flicker like an oil flare. Rather it was a steady yellow spot stuck on the horizon.

A house? Chloe forced herself to drag her ragged body across the terrain to the light. She could feel her head spin and tried to fight it. No, she couldn’t rest now. She had to reach her goal. But no matter how much she put one foot in front of the other, the light never seemed to get any closer…

Finally it came into view. It was definitely some sort of structure. But this one was different. It was not a ramshackle farming hut. It was bigger, and besides, farm huts didn’t have light poles.

It was a larger, more modern brick building. It had larger windows and a metal shed off to one side. Whoever lived here definitely had more money, as it was obviously better kept than most buildings in the Badlands.

Only a singular street-type light illuminated the area. All other lights were off. Chloe, even in her deteriorating state, thought this strange, especially in the middle of the plains.

Then another thing caught her eye. Just around the corner on the other side of the house she saw leaves brushing against the wall. She crept slowly toward the opposite side, careful to avoid any windows, to find what looked like a small garden.

FOOD! Yes, there were definitely vegetables growing there. Bean sprouts, potatoes, and tomatoes were all gathered in a small plot near the door.

Chloe finally forgot herself and fell down, ripping a ripe tomato off its branch and gorging on it. The ripe juices may well have come from heaven as they slid over her sandpaper tongue and filled her empty belly. She did not stop there. She greedily ate and half ate plant after plant, plucking bean sprouts by the fistful and stuffing them in her mouth. Eventually exhaustion was the only thing that put a stop to her hunger. After fighting it for weeks on end, fatigue got the best of her. The world began to spin, and her vision grew dark.

Then at last she fell asleep.