Chapter Three The Northern Waste

By the third day after leaving Hope Town, the world had been reduced to three colors. The sky was a dead white. The earth was iron gray. The red rocks in the distance looked like clotted blood. Jack had not seen a proper tree in a long time. The waste stripped everything unnecessary from the world and left only stone, sand, wind, and bone. Now and then a cactus stood on a slope, its shadow short as a nail. Buzzards turned patiently overhead, waiting for the living things below to admit defeat. Old Bill's steps grew slower. Jack gave the horse half his water. After drinking, the old animal touched its nose to his sleeve, as if it understood how dangerous that generosity was for both of them.