Quicksand, Ch 3

Luckily, it was Emily who made it for him. She leaned down and started to take off her hard black rubber boots. They were melting on the bottom from the heat of the sand. 1

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Johnathan asked, and his voice was incautiously loud. "Why would you take those off?"2

She looked down at the sand, and grimaced as she started to step out of them. "So I can run faster," she replied and started to run towards the sun. 3

The others stood, mouths open, as she kept going. Graham couldn't help himself. "Holy fuck." he said.4

Within seconds, Brent had taken off his boots, and run after her. The others kept their boots on, hurrying towards camp. Emily was up ahead, showing no sign of slowing down.5

Graham caught up first, and settled into a pace to stay at her side.6

"Fuck, not you---" Emily panted. "--Again."7

"You can't get rid of me," he grinned, and made an obscene gesture. Without taking her eyes off the stone pillars in the distance, Emily stuck her legs out and tripped him, and he fell, hard, against the sand. 8

Graham grimaced, and stood up. His group had already passed over him, and their green uniforms were disappearing into the sand. "Shitheads," he muttered, and brushed off his pants meticulously. In the background, he saw the tan uniformed Southern battalion closing in on him, jogging with their guns in their hands.9

Graham ran for all he was worth.10

He caught up with Emily again, panting hard, and the sun started to set. "You--- fucking--- left me." He tried to sound angry, but couldn't get the breath into his lungs. 11

"I told you I'd do it years ago," she told him, not breaking a sweat. The stone pillars were closing in on them. 12

He scowled, and looked at her feet. She was running hard, and the sand was hot enough to scorch. 13

"Don't you feel that?" he asked her. "And aren't you worried about your feet? I thought you women always worried about that, painting your nails and ending up crying in the bathroom about how when you get old, you'll get bunions and have veins on your feet."14

She managed a grin. "Has that been your experience," she asked him, "or have you still declined to come out of the closet?"15

She sped up, leaving him sputtering incoherently. 16