I am the desert walker.

For longer than I can remember, I have been coming back to this dry and dusty place to pass whatever judgment I am capable of bringing. The people who live there, in Gully, know me and respect me. They know that when I come, it is for a purpose that they have accepted as righteous. This time, I only have one person whom I must collect, a young boy named Riley. They will probably turn on me after this, his youth is so bright amongst them all, those desert rats, that it will seem unfair. But I must take him, for he is mine.

On June 5th, I entered Gully as I always do. My blackened form, so stark against the endless desert, was not an unfamiliar sight this time of year. Summer was the season of death, so it was only fitting that I show up on the first day. Jesse, the front man for the grocery store was the first person I saw, and when I kept walking towards him, the momentary tension at my arrival seemed to disappear. He tipped his straw hat at me, the weathered and cracked plant-matter as dusty as everything else.

I tipped my hat at him and stopped before him. “Hello Jesse, how are you?” I asked, setting my wooden cart on the ground.

“All’s well here, though I have to say you are earlier than usual.” I had been wrong, the tension was still present, just hidden well.

“I am here on the first day of summer, just as I always am.”

He stared for a moment, gulping to calm his nerves. “You’re here for some people?”

What a stupid question. “Only one. Riley McLock is the only person with which I have arranged collection.”

The pretense faded from Jesse’s face. He looked shocked, as if there was a million other names on his internal list that preceded Riley’s. “Riley, he’s just a kid. You never take younger than ten.”

I stepped forward and looked him in his eyes, his shorter height giving me the intimidation factor. “I collect who must be collected, that is all. You know the consequences for trying to stop me.”

Jesse held his posture for a moment, unwilling to yield to me. But then, as his senses grew, he faltered and looked down, defeated. “I know. Do you know where he is?”

“I know he was in Gemma’s house last time I came round. He still there?” I picked up my cart and backed away from Jesse. He nodded and turned away, walking back towards his shop.

I pulled my cart behind me, the weight and substance inconsequential to the task at hand. I could see the people I passed stop to stare at me, their season of death having finally arrived as I pulled my cart down the road. As I passed the bank, a portly man in a dusty black coat rushed out to meet me. I stopped and let my cart drop to the ground, staring at him.

“He-he-hello! Welcome back, desert walker. You are back so much sooner than I anticipated.” He reached a hand out to shake mine, his ignorance of the gravity of the notion almost too complete.

I contemplated taking his hand, ending whatever fate he had before this with a single touch, but decided not to cause problems. “Who are you?”

He looked a little taken aback, but quickly composed himself. “My name is Quentin Bartnum, I am the new mayor of Gully. Haven’t you heard of me?” He drew his hand back to adjust the lapels on his worn coat, what I took to be a sign of indignation.

While I had decided that I would not change this mans fate, I reached into my pocket and drew out my black notebook. I detached the pen from its spine and opened it, writing his name under the others, all of them crossed out with red ink except for his.

I closed the book and placed it back in my pocket, and when I looked back at him, his face was paled in terror. This man annoyed me, so I decided to move on. “I am here only for Riley McLock, then I will leave.” Without another word, I passed Bartnum and continued down the road, cart in hand.

When I arrived at Gemmas, I realized that not much had changed since the last time I had been here. Her husband is what brought me, his collection was imminent and I couldn’t wait another year to fit him into the schedule. Gemma had asked me if it was possible, and if it was, I would have complied. She was one of the few people I knew was good, and as such, I would always be lenient if it were possible for her.

I placed my cart on the outside of her small, wooden fence. The desert sand was thick, almost too difficult to walk through except for the small path that lead to her front door. Her house was small, only one or two rooms with a well right next to the small patio. Gemma was sitting there, in a rocking chair, smoking out of a pipe and reading a book. She looked up at me and smiled for only a moment before realizing why I was there. As I walked towards her, the fear in her eyes grew.

She stood and walked to the front door, spreading her arms wide to stop any entry. “I know why you are here, you can’t have him.”

I took off my hat and approached her, the conflict within making me uncertain. “You know I can’t allow you to stop me Gemma. You know what happens if you try to repel me.”

“I don’t care about all them, you just can’t have Riley!” She ran inside the house and I could hear her deadbolt the door.

I walked up to it and placed my hand on it, sure she was listening on the other side. “Gem, if you don’t let me in, then it won’t be just Riley, it will be all of you. There is no scenario where Riley is spared, because if all of you die, he will also die by being alone.” I paused for a moment, gauging my words. “Once you are all dead, I will be forced to collect him anyways. The one who commands says that he is non-negotiable. I must collect him by all means necessary.”

The door opened, and for the first time in my life, I was standing at the end of a gun. For a moment, I felt like laughing for the rest of eternity, the notion so absurd and foolish. The gun, so simple in its design, was only inches from my face, Gemma stepping forward to place it against my forehead.

“You can’t have him, I already told you.” She was starting to cry, her hands barely shaking. This Gemma was so different from the one who had let her husband go peacefully with me. She was caught up in her emotion, just like so many humans get when faced with inevitability. She pushed it harder against me, forcing me away from the building.

I stopped and took a deep breath, looking her square in the eyes. “So be it.”

Without a sound, she collapsed to the floor dead, her eyes rolling back and turning to black within their sockets. I turned around and saw, for the first time, the crowd of townspeople who had gathered to witness the collection. As Gemma died, some of them shrieked and began to flee, but it was of no use. One by one, they too dropped as she did and died, unable to escape the infinitely encapsulating hands of death.

I turned back towards the house, uninterested by the calamity before me. I entered through the doorway, into the main living room. I passed through it into the back room, Gemma’s room, and quietly entered. Inside sat a young boy, seven years, eight months, and sixty days old. His hair was dark black, just a few shades darker than his eyes, and hung down to his waist. It was wavy and bunched up into a ponytail on his head.

He stared at me, an awareness to his eyes that I had not expected. “Do you know who I am, Riley?”

He nodded, face sullen. “You come from the desert. You’re here for me.”

I nodded back and came to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. “I don’t want you to be afraid. Collections don’t go where everyone else goes. You’re going to a special place.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and already I could feel the connection between us grow stronger. He opened them and looked at me, the last thing he would ever see in this life. “I don’t want it to hurt.”

I placed my hand on his head and his eyes closed for the last time, the collection complete as I felt the fire race its way through me. “It won’t,” I said.

I left the house, carrying him in my arms, and walked over to my cart by the gate. With one arm, I held Riley and with the other pulled the canvas cover away. I opened the small, wooden casket and placed him inside, shutting it quietly and quickly. The small, golden circle on its surface glowed brightly for a moment and then disappeared completely, no mark left on the surface. The one who commands must have been pleased.

I pulled the canvas back over the cart and began my trek back into the desert. As the dunes began to fill the space between me and Gully, I felt a small sadness knowing that I would never come back.

I had hoped to collect Gemma one day.