Guns of Mars 5
A Martian action-adventure by The Legend Chuck Dixon
CHAPTER 2.2
It would be heading to a settlement of men, one of many that ringed the top of the world to take advantage of the last source of water on Barsoom. Kal marked the ship’s route in his mind and rode on dead north in its wake.
By the end of the day, the animals were near collapse, moving at a plodding walk with their heads down. Kal took to foot to lead the thoats by the reins. The sun fell and night closed in and still he walked knowing that to stop now was to surrender. To stop now was to die.
Weariness overtook him and he dropped to walk upon his lower set of arms as well as his legs. He walked as one already dead, his mind wandering far from this place to the days of his youth riding the Great Sand Sea with his kin. The sun would beat upon them like a hammer and yet he recalled its brutal radiance with pleasure. They would ride and raid until they had their fill of loot and captives. Only then would they return to the camp to be feted by all for their cleverness and courage.
He saw again Tagas, his intended bride. In his addled memory she was now lean of limb and comely rather than the stout cow he’d abandoned. He felt something like regret, though born of the nature of his dire circumstance. He silently rebuked himself for his rash decision to leave the tribe behind. It would have been better had he remained and eventually plotted a death for Tagas that would free him from the bonds of a mate. Perhaps a fall from a ledge or the bite of a rock spider. And he as innocent as a colot pup.
Kal came out of his reveries at a crunching sound beneath his feet.
He looked down to see a white crust under his sandals. He crouched to scoop up a handful and sniff at it.
Snow.
The thoats were already busy snuffling at the ground as Kal dropped to sit in the snow and pack as much into his parched mouth as he could. A sharp pain in his stomachs alerted him to his folly. He leapt up to pull the thoats’ heads upright. He bounded their snouts closed with a length of thong. They were already suffering from the intense cold. A bellyful of ice-cold slush would draw what remained of the heat from their blood.
