Left To Die

Originally titled 'The Hole' and published on Yahoo Voices

The blazing sun tortured the partially dehydrated man laying in the sand. A trail of blood drops revealed the path Jim had crawled. Jim grimaced and placed his hand on his side. Under his hand, his shirt was soaked with blood. He was breathing heavily and used his other hand to wipe the sand off his sunburned face. There was nothing but sand for as far as he could see. No water. No shade. No sign of civilization. 50 yards behind him was the convertible he could no longer drive. The driver's door had several bullet holes in it. The car could provide no shade for him. The sand was almost unbearably hot.

The people who took revenge for a crime Jim did not commit had disappeared 24 hours ago. They left him without water and without food. They left him to die, but he was determined to live. He remembered exactly how it happened...

Three days ago, he was at his girl friend's house to gather his belongings. Their relationship had ended with loud arguments, punched holes in walls and warnings from her brothers to stay away from her. He knocked on the front door. Judy did not respond. He did not have a key. He walked around the house tapping on every window and calling for her. He figured that she was not answering the door because she was angry at him. He stood outside the bedroom window for a few moments before walking back to his car. Perhaps it would be better if he came back another day. A neighbor peered out her window as he drove away. She went to the phone and called the police.

Inside the second floor bedroom, Judy's beaten body laid on the floor. The room had been ransacked and the box of expensive jewelry was missing. The closet had been ransacked and the clothes Jim wanted to retrieve were missing.

He had known her brothers to be hot tempered. He had been in more than one scuffle with them. So he chose a time when they were not there to get his stuff. It normally to an hour to drive across the small desert to her house.

After Jim had left, the police and her brother's appeared at ther house. Her brothers also knew that Jim drove the same road across the desert to go to work. They waited for him,chased him and shot him.

The sand blowing in his face interrupted his memories. The hot breeze was welcome. Ten yards ahead of him, something was in the sand. He could not see it but he could hear it. The sound of a piano. Jim thought he was hearing things. He pulled his body forward to the spot where the sound orignated. There he found a hole big enough to lay in. The wind was increasing and the blowing sand was stinging his face. He crawled into the hole and laid there. He fell asleep and woke up an hour later.

He sat up and looked around. He was feeling good. He remembered his wound and wondered why it did not hurt. He put his hand on his side. His shirt was dry. No blood. The air was cool and the breeze was refreshing. He was not thirsty. He was not hungry. He crawled out of the hole and immediately felt excruciating pain in his side. He felt his side and looked at the blood dripping off his hand. He crawled back into the hole and looked at his hand and shirt. The blood had disappeared and the pain was gone. He laid there and drifted into unconciousness.

Jim looked down at a truck that came down the road and stopped by Jim's car. The man in the truck saw the body in the sand and used his cell phone to call the police. Everything was okay. Jim was feeling wonderful as he watched the ambulance come and carry his body away.