The ride to Deep Desert lasted longer than Trevor thought it would be, but at least it was in a smaller courtesy shuttle from The Flight Dome than on one of the crowded buses he’d come in on earlier. As the shuttle passed by the dirt road that led to the On the Farm district, he glanced out at the rolling hills lining the valley the district was wedged between.
“Deep Desert’s the next one up,” the driver called out behind him. Even though Trevor was the only one in the van, it was the first thing the driver had said ever since they left The Flight Dome. Based on his thick accent, Trevor guessed it was partly due to the man not being able to speak English very well. He tried to press his luck to cut down on the silence, though.
“So have you been on the island long?”
“About six years or so, I guess,” the drive said over his shoulder.
“How do you like it? I mean, have you been any cool animals here?”
The driver shrugged and looked back at Trevor through the rear view mirror. “Not really. To be honest, I just work here because it pays pretty good. I like animals okay enough, but not enough to want to be one.”
“Really? Not even an eagle, a cheetah, or a dolphin or something?”
The driver just shook his head. “Nah. It’s just not my thing. My coworkers keep trying to talk me in to it, you know – especially since we get employee discounts and all – but I’m just not that interested. Maybe I’ve just seen too many lives messed up here. I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you saw the rules for the island, didn’t you?” the driver asked, lifting his fingers up off the steering wheel.
“Yeah,” Trevor said slowly.
“Well, it’s like those morons that get so caught up in being an animal that they get someone pregnant or attack someone. I swear, you can always see it in their eyes, you know? It doesn’t matter if they’re a, uh, parrot, or a horse, or a freakin’ dolphin man. When they realize they’re going to be stuck in an animal’s body for a while, or that their friend or wife is because of some stupid as hell thing they did, you can tell that they know that they screwed up big time. It’s gut-wrenching, man. It only gets worse when you see them get sold off to a farm or a zoo or some crap like that.”
“They do that?” Trevor asked squeamishly.
“Well, it’s not like they’ve got room on this island for everyone,” the driver said.
“Holy crap,” Trevor sighed, feeling his gut sinking. He barely noticed the van rounding a curve around an embankment, and the quick, yet gradual change of the scenery transitioning over to desert.
“So, what? You’re heading to Deep Desert to try and be a raptor or something?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, then,” the driver said. “Take my advice and don’t let it get the best of you, okay? Because as far as I can tell, being an animal is an interesting place to visit, but it sure as hell ain’t no place to live.”
“Yes, sir,” Trevor said. Even though his mind had been made up before he left home that he was going to be a raptor on his trip, he was starting to second guess himself now.
There was a sharp buzz that rattled over the van as the driver turned left and crossed a cattle guard as it started to make its way over to the headquarters for Deep Desert. As Trevor looked out the window at the gravelly sand, the cacti, and the mesquite and juniper trees, he still couldn’t shake the uneasiness assaulting his mind right now. It wasn’t just because he was worried about not winning the lottery either.