The sun, big, red, and threatening, disappears behind the furthest dunes, and it becomes cool here in the Sahara. Twilight is rosy and purple and becomes darker fast, as twilight in the Sahara does not last long.
Podolski and Jack Richie kneel beside D’Arlan and constantly rub the captain’s wrists. Fritz is standing around, powerless, like an animal that has been cornered, and he glares at the Arab guards.
It is already deep twilight before D’Arlan starts moving his head. He groans and moves his body. He tries to roll over onto his side, but they stop him. There is only one way for him to lie, and that is on his stomach.
“Water… give me water,” D’Arlan says. “I am thirsty.”
He gasps for breath again because the salt is burning into his open wounds. It is like a fire that wants to consu
