DRY PLANET

Chapter 10 – The Poisoned Oasis

DRY PLANET

by Manilyn Nalaunan

The desert was cruel in its silence. For three days after Darius’s betrayal, Elsie led what remained of their group through shifting dunes and barren flats, following only her memory of the half-map’s symbols and the whispers of instinct that tugged her forward. The sun hammered them mercilessly. Their lips cracked, their skin blistered, and their steps grew slower with each passing hour. Children whimpered too weak to cry, and the old stumbled like shadows about to fall.

By the fourth day, Maru staggered beside her, his eyes rimmed red, his flask dry as bone. “We can’t go on like this,” he rasped. “They’ll collapse. I’ll collapse. Elsie, we need water.”

Her throat ached with the same truth. She hadn’t swallowed a drop in two days, her tongue thick and swollen. Every step was agony. But she forced her gaze ahead, refusing to look at the hopeless faces behind them. If she faltered, they would break.

And then, as the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sand in cruel shades of fire, they saw it.

A shimmer on the horizon. At first Elsie thought it was another mirage, another trick of the heat meant to torment them. But the shimmer grew into green—real green. Palm trees, tall and dark against the burning sky. A cluster of shadows that promised shade. And at the heart of it, gleaming like glass, a pool of water.

Cries broke from the group. Mothers lifted their children, men stumbled faster, hope flaring in eyes dulled by suffering.

Maru grabbed Elira’s arm, his grip trembling. “Do you see it?”

Her heart hammered. She nodded, too stunned to speak.

The oasis was real.

They half-ran, half-staggered toward it, the last of their strength pulled by the vision of salvation. Sand turned to hard-packed earth, the air cooled beneath the shade of palms. And then they were there—falling to their knees beside the pool, plunging cracked hands into the water, lifting it to parched lips.

Elsie drank, the cool liquid spilling down her throat like heaven itself. She gasped at the sweetness, her body trembling as if life itself had returned. Around her, laughter broke out—wild, desperate, disbelieving. Children splashed, their cries like bells. For the first time in endless days, the desert seemed to relent.

But Maru hesitated. He crouched at the water’s edge, watching with wary eyes. His hand dipped, lifted droplets to his nose. He sniffed, then frowned deeply.

“Elsie,” he said.

She looked up, water dripping from her chin, her heart still soaring. “What is it?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he tipped the water onto the ground and wiped his hand against his tunic. His eyes swept the pool again, then the palms, the too-bright green. His expression tightened with unease.

“Elsie,” he whispered again, “this water isn’t right.”

Her joy froze in her chest. She stared at him, at the pool, at the others still drinking greedily. “What do you mean?”

He lowered his voice, urgent. “It smells wrong. Metallic. Like rusted iron. It’s too clear, too still. Water in the desert doesn’t look like this—not unless something feeds it.”

A cry split the air.

Elsie turned to see one of the men clutching his stomach, doubling over with a strangled groan. His skin had gone pale, his lips tinged blue. A woman screamed as her child, who had drunk more than any, began convulsing, froth bubbling at his mouth.

Panic erupted. Those who had drunk staggered, vomiting, collapsing in the sand. Others screamed and dragged them back, too late to stop the poison that was already coursing through their veins.

Elsie’s flask slipped from her hand. Horror gripped her throat like claws. She had led them here. She had let them drink.

Maru pulled her back sharply. “Don’t touch it!” His voice was fierce, cutting through the chaos. “It’s poison—some kind of tainted spring!”

The oasis that had seemed like salvation was death disguised. The water shimmered mockingly in the firelight, reflecting stars that had begun to pierce the darkening sky. Around them, suffering filled the air—groans, cries, whispers of despair.

Hours passed, though they felt like moments carved from a nightmare. Those who had drunk the most slipped into stillness, their bodies twisted with pain. Others lingered, sweating and trembling, eyes rolling white. By morning, the ground was heavy with silence.

Half their number was gone.

Elsie knelt among the dead, her heart a hollow pit. She could not meet the eyes of those who had survived, though she felt their stares like knives. Hope had carried them here, and now hope had betrayed them.

Maru crouched beside her, his voice raw but steady. “This isn’t your fault. The desert tricks us all. But we can’t stay. If the scavengers find this place…”

Elsie nodded numbly, though her body felt carved from stone. She rose slowly, her knees weak, and looked one last time at the poisoned pool. Its surface rippled faintly, disturbed only by the wind. A cruel illusion.

She thought of her grandmother’s words—The gift of life lies beneath. The spring she had spoken of could not be this. No, this was its shadow, a corruption, perhaps even a trap left by those who had known of the ancients’ gift.

Elsie turned away, her voice hoarse but firm. “We leave at dawn. What remains of us.”

The survivors gathered their meager belongings in silence, the weight of loss pressing heavy on every shoulder.

That night, as Elsie lay awake beneath the cold stars, she made herself a promise.

She would find the true spring, no matter the cost. No more poisoned water, no more false hope. If she had to crawl across the desert until her body gave out, she would do it.

Because she could not bear to let this be the end.