TITLE: NOT A DROP
GENRE: Adult SF/SPEC FIC
The last thing Mac remembered was shooting at Boswell as he leveled his gun at her. Did he shoot her? She sat up slowly, not wanting to go too fast in case she was shot. She looked down at her gray uniform and ran her hands over her body. She hurt all over but not in any one place in particular so either he missed or he never intended to kill her in the first place. She sat up and dusted herself off.
A hot bright sun shone overhead and even the thin fabric of her uniform stuck to her back from where she sweat through the material. God, it was hot. She stood unsteady on her feet for a moment then righted herself. She was in the middle of a desert of sorts. She shaded her eyes and looked in each direction, turning a full 360 degrees until she was back to the start. As far as she could see in every direction was sand, sand and more sand. Oh, and an occasional rock formation. Her head throbbed in time to the beat of her heart. She scrubbed at her hair and instantly regretted it. There was a huge goose egg on the back of her head. A flash of memory of the butt of a gun coming in contact with her head played across her mind’s eye. So instead of killing her, he knocked her unconscious and dropped her here. Wherever here was.