The story so far:
The five of us first met in the back of a dimly lit van, which stopped off in the **** end of nowhere, and opened its doors. Waiting for us there was a large garbage bag the size of a small person, filled with tupperware containers. We watched the edge of the bag flutter in a small breeze. The man who would be Sergio got out first and looked in the bag. He pulled out a container, showed us its contents, (a drumstick) and happily consumed it.
How a man with no tongue enjoys food is an interesting sight to behold, though slightly tragic. Judging by the speed of his devouring, he was hungry. Upon seeing the food, Truman was quick to leave his seat, and partake in his own.
The van was idling, but the driver gave no inclination to our existence; by his expression, he could be waiting for a train to pass.
Red moved to leave at the same time that Wendy did, and both awkwardly sat back down, then up in an effort to be courteous at the same time. After a couple tries, Wendy smiled, but Red scowled and shoved past her, over me, and out the door.
Wendy sat back, looking oppressed. I expressed my heartfelt apologies for my gender with a small shrug and raised eyebrows, and left the vehicle.
Stepping out of the van, with my eyes adjusting to the light, I realized the scale of the desert we were in. The horizon was a flat circle around me, with no defining features. It was a flat beige-white to the edge where it became a sudden, constant blue. The heat was not intense. It was calm, tropical. The ground was perfectly level, with a layer of sand an inch thick, spread almost evenly across. This was like no other desert that I had seen. I wondered where the hell we were, and cursed myself for sleeping on the plane ride.
Turning back to the van, I saw Wendy slowly stepping out. The instant her feet touched the ground, the van’s engine gunned and it tore away without closing the doors.
We dumbly watched it disappear towards the edge of our vision.