The sandy dunes of the desert stretched on for eternity.  These white waves were impenetrable, I had decided.  Scaling up one meant digging my feet in and allowing the scalding grains to wash over and consume them.  Moving ahead, the only thing that greeted you at the top were thousands of other dunes in front of you, and stronger sun, more eager to incinerate you.
“Lordy, Jaysus, Lordy…” I heard Mike call out behind me.  His prayers, well put together when we first got lost, quickly slipped into a simple mantra.  “Lordy … Lordy…”  Every unnecessary word my mind registered from him made my brain throb.
         “Will you shut up for just a second?” I barked, my voice surprisingly hoarse. Immediately after speaking, I tried to take big gulp, only to feel nothing.
         Dry.
         My throat was painfully dry.  I tried coughing, which only seemed to make it worse.  My arid hacks seemed to alert Mike, who ran up closer to me and began to pound on my back.  “Oh gosh Red, are you okay?”
         I put my hands on my knees and crouched over, vainly trying to relax my muscles.  “Fine,” I said, trying to suck in as much air as I could.  Dry air was little relief for my body or my sores, but tasting it on my tongue reminded me that I was still alive, and I could still walk.  Mike helped me to my feet and we kept walking, still searching.  For the camp.  For water.  For anything that wasn’t hellish sand or an indifferent blue sky.
         Two dunes later, Mike nudged my arm.  “Look!” he pointed.  Far off to my right, surrounded by the desert’s usual blazing haze.  There was a black blot in the distance, with a hint of blue beneath it.  The blue was a shade darker than the sky, and gleamed when it caught my eyes.  “An oasis, can y’see?”  He continued to thrust his finger toward the effulgent blue speck.
         I narrowed my eyes, trying to concentrate.  Shaking my head, the blue dot shook with me.  “Naw,” I muttered softly, trying to conserve my voice.  “Jus’ a mirage.”
         “Huh?  Why you think that?”
         “Mirage.  Must be,” I reiterated.  What you saw or felt was sometimes not there.  “Mind’s playing tricks on you.  Go there and it’ll be gone, and you’ll be stuck by yourself.  Keep going south with me.  Camp’s in the south.”
         “Yeah, but which way’s south?” Mike argued, his finger still defiantly pointing towards the mirage.  “If we was goin’ south, we woulda hit camp miles back.”
         “Keep walkin’,” I pleaded, resuming my own trek.  “Footprints.  Make footprints.”
         I walked another dune before I realized that Mike had not followed me.  At the top of the mound, I could see one small speck slowly moving in the direction of the shimmering blue in the distance.  I tried to scream and call out for him, but nothing came out except hot air.  The only words I was able to muster were a few quiet curses.  I cursed Mike for not listening, and myself for not watching over him like I told myself I would.  I considered trying to turn around, but once I got down from the dune and lost sight of him, there was no guarantee I could find him again once I reached the top of another.  In the desert, once you take your eyes off something, it was gone.
         After five more dunes of painful walking, the day began to end.  The sky was dyed orange, and stars were born in the west, where the sun no longer ruled.  I paid little attention to the affairs of enormity above, but my bleeding feet and scorched skin were thankful for desert evening’s breeze.  It was at this time I heard a stomping sound behind me once more.  Turning around, I was greeted by Mike’s round face.
         Despite whatever pain they had endured, my cracked lips managed a full smile.  Realizing that I was now unable to speak, I hobbled toward my comrade and tried my best to give him a proper hug.  Mike was alive, somehow.  He found me again, somehow.  The random benevolence of the all-too cruel desert astounded me.
         “You ’ere right,” he said, his voice as damaged as mine was hours before.  “No oasis.  No water. Jus’ mirage.”  After speaking, our embrace collapsed, and he did his best to stagger back to his feet. Without any words, and with only the dying sun and Mike’s disappointment hanging over us, we pressed forward.
         The heat was gone, but I couldn’t feel my legs or arms.  I couldn’t feel my muscles either, or the strength I used to have in them.  I then realized that there was no strength left at all, and toppled over into the side of the dune, feeling the still-hot grains wash over my skin.
         “Red! Red! No!” Mike screamed, limping towards me.  “Hold on!  Please, hold on!”  He moved awkwardly, as if he were looking for something he had on him.
         I shook my head.  No… No…  I wanted Mike to leave me.  He was strong.  He could survive a few more dunes, more if he could spot camp.  I’d spend my last moments with my murderer – the sand.  It was a nice, beautiful place to die.  As night fell, the star’s defiant light seemed to illuminate the grains.
         “Drink,” he ordered, hoisting his canteen down.  He saw the shock on my face and responded.  “The oasis was there,” he explained.  “Didn’t want you to get upset ’cuz you didn’t go.  Please, drink.”
         I shook my head once more.  One or two more dunes I could be strong enough to climb, but Mike could survive a whole lot more.  In the desert, water meant everything.  Water meant his survival.
         “Please,” Mike begged hoarsely.  I heard his voice get higher, the same way it did right before he was about to cry.  “P-Please don’t leave me!”
         I reluctantly pressed my lips to the cool canteen flask, and water flooded my mouth.  Tasteless, warm water didn’t feel like much at first, but once it hit my throat, it felt like a smooth flood.  It briefly reignited the terrible pain which stole my breath, then slowly soothed it away.  Things couldn’t end here, on the side of some godforsaken dune in the middle of an infinite nowhere.  “Help me up,” I begged extending my arms.
         Mike smiled and reached out to me, pulling me to my feet.  “Let’s go.”
***
         I woke up in an air conditioned tent, confused.  I lurched forward and began panting heavily, not used to breathing unopposed, without a burning pain.  “Mr. Carlo,” a voice said.  There was a nurse by my bed, holding me back with small hands and manicured nails.  “It’s okay, you’re safe now. Your condition stabilized.  Here, you need to drink.”
         She handed me a paper cup of icy water.  Icy.  Cold.  Cold relief spread to every part of my body that I could feel.  The water made me recline in my safe bed, but it also made me remember.  “Mike!  Where’s Mike.”
         The nurse only gave me a confused look.  “Who?  Sir, you were the only one out there.”