He was lost.
He stumbled across the sand-dunes. He didn't remember anything prior to when he woke up with a deployed parachute dragging him across the sand. He didn't even know his own name. He had wandered for two days, and the relentless sun and ice cold night was boiling away the little sanity he still retained. There was no shade to speak of and no means of working out direction. The horizon was featureless in every direction and he had no idea if he was keeping a straight line, simply walking to feel like he was trying to do something. He was aware that his chances of survival, outside of a miracle, were low. He just wasn't willing to lie down just yet.
He suddenly heard shouting from behind him. Turning, he saw a man sprinting down the slope of a dune towards him.
"Jimmy, HOLD UP!"
He stopped and regarded the guy as he approached.
"Man, I've been following your footprints for hours. That got a little crazy back there"
He stared confused at the newcomer.
"I'm sorry, I think I hit my head. I'm having trouble remembering... anything? Am I Jimmy?"
"Yeah, mate. You don't remember a thing? Jeez, we just bailed from a plane after one of the engines exploded. I saw what direction the wind carried you, and have been following you ever since. Do you know who I am?"
Jimmy shook his head, his mind bringing forth no data. The new guy continued.
"I'm Mick? We've flown together for a couple of months? We were just taking a cargo plane to an airfield on the far side of this desert. Any easy jaunt, at least until the engine had something to say about it."
Jimmy relaxed. At least a second person here would improve his still low chances of survival. Mick put his hand on Jimmy's shoulder.
"Two days without food must be taking its toll by now"
Jimmy nodded. Mick suddenly slipped something out of his pocket and his grip on his shoulder tightened.
"Because I'll tell you something, Jimmy. I am so fucking hungry."
The blade of a Swiss army knife plunging towards his neck was the last thing he knew.
Written by The Silicon Lemming