xerophyte
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It was hot. Jack knew how much of an understatement that was, but it was all he could think. His mind felt like it was in an oven. The rest of him felt even hotter. His skin was cracked and dry, as all the moisture meant to keep him relatively cool had long since dried up. His only saving grace was that the ground was had packed dirt and clay instead of sand and dust. It was easier to walk on and was less likely to be blown into the open wounds that had cracked open in during his trek.
Jack could barely see. His eyes had almost completely dried up, and everything at a distance was a blur. That he could see at all was a small miracle. And it was because of that, that he had seen something that could be what saved him. A plant. A large cactus that stood tall and proud against the blazing sun. Jack did not know what kind it was, nor did he care.
All he knew was that it was tall enough to offer a small amount of shade, and probably had some water deep inside. His feet, clad in shoes that were falling apart, shuffled along. He would have liked to move even a tiny bit faster, but he could not bring himself to do so. But he kept moving. He kept heading towards the cactus with every ounce of willpower he still had.
He did not know how long it took, but he made it. Jack had made it. The plant really was huge. Taller than he was for sure. The needles presented a nasty problem he would have to deal with, but that was for later. For now, he lay down. He lay in the narrow band of shade the cactus produced. It was the greatest thing he had ever felt, even if the difference was not actually that large. It was still cooler than the rest of the desert.
Jack let himself simply be for a few minutes, letting the weariness take over. Just for a little while. Then his dry throat and tongue reminded him of what else the cactus represented. If only he could get at it. He used to have a knife, but he had lost that. He had once had thick gloves, but those had long since fallen apart.
Jack looked around for anything that might let him bypass the spiky exterior. All he found was rocks, jutting out of the ground. They were not ideal, but they would have to do. He did not need much of the plant, after all. Just enough to keep going and find some kind of civilization. Hopefully.
He heaved, using all his remaining strength to lift one of the rocks. Had he been healthy, such a task would have been much easier. But in his current state, he barely managed to get it off the ground. He eyed his target: a thick branch that was lower than the others, and within his reach. He struggled against the weight of the rock and brought it down, letting gravity do most of the work. The branch remained stubbornly attached, although not unharmed.
Seeing the green interior made Jack’s heart beat just a little faster, sending a small surge of adrenaline through his body. He smashed against the branch over and over until it finally yielded. It hit the ground with a satisfying thud, breaking open more. Jack rushed forward, taking hold of a spike free area and taking a deep bite of the flesh.
He felt it. Water. It flowed down into his throat, stinging his dry body. But it was water. He ate as much as he could, getting as much energy and fluid as possible. And then he once more lay down. He would let his starved and dehydrated body work with what it had just been given. And then he would have to move on. Although he wanted more of the cactus’s bounty, he knew otherwise. Even in his current condition. He would not kill the plant that saved him.
He would just have to hope there were more out there, waiting for him in the dry, empty desert.
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I can't image being in this position. I probably wouldn't last very long, what with my non-existent survival skills.
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