Xander woke up, startled. Something was running down his leg. He shook himself to fully wake and shake off what he thought might be a spider crawling on his calf. Arriving at a fuller consciousness, he realized what he felt was a rivulet of sweat. Then, the crushing memory came back—The Outside. He was sunburned and sticky, bleary and confused. He scratched his back and stomach. His ugly clothes were wrinkled and prickled his skin.
With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, realizing that his clothing was the least of his problems. So thirsty. His mouth was a shriveled fissure. He would have to start looking for a way to find food, water, and maybe other REMs? Would he find others like himself somewhere in the vast landscape? Or was The Outside a death sentence?
With an earnest sigh,
