Hi! I have not posted a chapter in some six months, where I was doing a bunch of interesting and boring things, all twisted together into what I call Daily Life of a Human. I am very sorry to those of you who read my story, and if you have given up on me, now you can be hopeful again!

This is a short chapter, because I am unsure whether to continue this story or not, but I would be SO GRATEFUL if you could review this and tell me what to do with my liiiifeeee (this story).

Mornings were beautiful in the desert. The sky was a dark grey when Amy woke up, but as she was running around a large rock they had called Uluru 2 (courtesy of Kevin) she had watched it turn into a gorgeous light blue, stretching on and on until it touched the harsh red colour of the horizon.

But this beautiful morning was ruined by Hamilton Holt's shouting. His face was a bright red, with sweat (literally) pouring down his face.

"ONE MORE ROUND, COME ONNNNNN!"

Amy had a bad stitch in her side. She wanted to stop, so badly. Please, make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stoppppppp.
Her head felt light, as if it wasn't even attached to her body. She saw Hamilton turn around to face them, and as he began shouting, his feet started melting. Then his knees, hips, chest, neck. All that was left of him was his face, bobbing along in mid-air, shouting insults and profanity.

That's weird.

In front of her, Evan began melting too, until all that was left of him was a big puddle of wax. His eyes looked out at her from the puddle, the only thing that still looked like him. They seemed to be staring her down, the blue so intense she couldn't look away. Like blue diamond.

She didn't even realize she'd slipped over the wax puddle until she was lying on the ground, heart pounding a million miles an hour. And then, and then…. Her heart began to slow, and it began to melt, too, she could feel it. She tried to cry out, but everything around her had melted, blurred into meaningless blobs.

Until it hadn't, and all she could see was black.

Amy woke up feeling cold. She opened her eyes. It was hard though, her lids kept closing on her. She kept her eyes open long enough to see that she was in the living room of their little house, and the air-conditioner had been turned on: full blast.

"Oh good, you're awake," someone said. Amy just groaned and closed her eyes again.

"Amy? Amy, are you okay?" said a different voice. Something in her brain told her it was Evan.

She groaned again.

"Look, Amy, it is fine if you are not up to talking, but it would be extremely helpful if you listened, as I cannot be bothered repeating this again."

That was Ian's voice. His British accent gave him away. His incredibly cute, hot, sexy British accent.

What?!

My brain has definitely stuffed up.

"…so what we need to do is-"

"Whaaatt?" Amy groaned. "I didn't..catch the first bit."

Ian let out a huff of annoyance. "The heat, and your general weakness-"

"Hey!" Amy protested/mumbled.

"-Seem to have caused you to faint while running, and I think this is the effect of you pushing yourself too hard, too fast. If we want to escape, I think we need to do less physical training, and more mental training. Otherwise we will be suffering from more fainting."

"No fucking way!" That was Hamilton. He got a few murmurs of assent.

"Let me finish! We could be out of here in half the time if we, say, managed to bribe someone into giving us a car so that we could get the bloody hell out of here," he paused. "Or, we would have spent so much time mentally training ourselves so that we could perhaps build something to help us get out of here. The chances of us using our brains to escape are much higher than the chances of us running out of the desert."

There was dead silence. Ian smirked.

He has a point.

Then Quinn broke the silence with: "That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

Ian's smirk was replaced with a scowl.

"Our chances of running out of the desert are much higher than any of us actually being smart enough to build a car," she continued.

Sinead coughed very loudly.

"Oh no, don't think that I've forgotten you, Sinead. I have remembered you, and I've remembered that you're the vesper mole, so I don't really think the group would need your help, do you?"