Erik adjusted his pack as he approached the derelict station. He fingered his canteen, dented and scarred beyond recognition, but knew it was empty. He kept trying to suck one last droplet out of it, anything to help his aching muscles. He hadn't been able to get a coherent thought through in the last two hours and the ache had only gotten worse.
Rusty creaking filled the air as he passed under a beam, hanging by a tangle of metal strands. Most of the structures here were a collection of discarded plates, doors, and struts, roughly molded into a shelter. Erik leaned into the side of a building, hiding from the relentless sun. The metal bore into his back, searing the leather harness his gun hung from.
He closed his eyes, thinking of the feel of the sea breeze. He got the barest flicker of the water as it splattered his face, way back in his youth, but then the arid air picked up, bringing another blast of sand in its wake. Ripped from his thoughts, he brushed errant strands of hair from his face and continued down the path through the twisted structures, in search of some place more like home.