Author's Note: This is a sequel to my story Stroke of Midnight which can be found under the Movies/IT category.

Rachel could see the brightness through her closed eyelids. She moaned and tried to move, but she had no energy. The brightness dimmed a bit and she tried to open her eyes. They felt dry and caked with grit.

"Hey, girl."

The voice sounded faint, but had a gruffness to it. And someone was shaking her as well.

"Girl? You alive?"

Finally she opened her eyes. A man was crouched over her. His face was shadowed due to the bright sun that was behind him. Rachel brought a shaky hand up to shade her eyes. The man had dark skin with super short hair that hugged his skull. His eyes were narrowed, though if it was because of the arid wind that blew or he was trying to study her better, she didn't know.

"Where am I?" she asked in a raspy voice. Her throat was parched.

"The Mohaine Desert. How did you get here?" the man asked.

Rachel glanced to the side. All she would see was dust: dry, cracked, light gray dust. Her heart started pounding. She tried to sit up, but decided to prop herself up on her elbows instead. She glanced the other direction. Same thing.

"I don't understand. How did I get here?"

"That's what I want to know. You don't remember?"

Rachel saw in her mind Pennywise hanging on the edge of the gaping hole, about to fall in. She remembered feeling both sorrow and relief. He had grabbed her with a tentacle and pulled her towards him. Then he had let go and she fell.

"You alright?" the man asked.

"I remember falling. But that doesn't tell me where I am. Or who you are."

"My name is Roland. And you're in Mid-World."

Rachel raised her eyebrows at him. "Mid-World? What, like Middle Earth? Like as in hobbits and wizards and all that?"

Roland sighed and shook his head. "We need to get you out of the sun. You're not making any sense at all." He held out his hand for her to grab.

"Join the club." Rachel reached out and Roland grabbed her and pulled her to her feet.

"So which direction were you headed?" Roland asked.

Rachel scrunched her face up. "Uh...would it freak you out if I told you down?" She pointed downward.

"Down? So you're trying to get underground?"

Rachel could clearly hear the confusion in Roland's voice. She sighed. "I was underground. And then I fell even more underground. Down a hole— a big, wide hole."

"So someone brought you back up?"

"Or back out. Look, I am really confused and hot right now. Can we find us some shade?"

Roland let out a laugh that sounded more like a bark. "Be my guest." He spread his hand in a showing gesture.

The white, hard-packed sand stretched as far as Rachel could see. She placed her hand on her flat belly, suddenly glad she wasn't too far along in her pregnancy. She was beginning to think she was going to have a difficult journey ahead of her.

"Well which direction were you headed?" she inquired.

"I'm going after someone. And actually, I suggest we get moving, if you're up for walkin'?"

Rachel scowled. She didn't know if she could trust Roland, but right now he was her only shot at figuring out where she was and then getting back home.

"Sure. I lost someone as well. Maybe we can find who we're both looking for together."

"Don't be so eager. You might not like the person I'm looking for."

Roland started walking, so Rachel decided to join him.

"Well mine's not exactly all fun and games either, so you're in good company." Rachel let out a shaky laugh.

"So what's the last thing you remember?" Roland asked as they walked.

"I just remember falling. And then I woke up here."

"Down a hole, right?"

"Yes. Look, I know that sounds crazy, but it's true. I have no idea where I am right now besides in a desert, and I know that I was in Derry, Maine and this most certainly is not it."

Dust blew into Rachel's mouth and she started coughing.

"Yeah, you're gonna have to get used to that," Roland commented. "The dust."

"Oh joy," Rachel muttered under her breath. She coughed again.

They continued in silence for a while. Rachel was surprised Roland didn't ask her any more questions. After a while, Rachel's skin started to feel hot. Sweat dripped down the back of her neck and she was grateful she had thought to put her hair up in a ponytail. Finally clouds started to cover the sun, the only relief from the dry, desert heat. Rachel wondered if it ever rained out there. Couldn't have been much when it did, for the only bit of vegetation to be found around were large clumps of dry, crunchy looking grass.

She started to wonder where Pennywise had ended up. Had he returned to where he had come from, or was he too stuck in this barren wasteland? She stopped short. She could call him. Reach out to him like she had the day Chris had almost accosted her in her kitchen. Could she do it? Would she dare? And was he even close enough to hear her?

Roland realized she had stopped and stopped as well. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"No. Just…thinking about someone. Wondering what happened to him." She caught up with Roland.

"Do you think he is here?"

Rachel's mouth grew into a pout. "I don't know. I don't know what happened to him."

"There's a town coming up. A small village named Pricetown. We can ask about him there."

"How long will it take to get there?"

"Depends."

"On?"

"How many times we keep having to stop."

"Hey I don't excactly go walking through deserts every day, alright," Rachel retorted as they set off again.

"Better get used to it. We've got a long walk ahead of us."

Rachel slumped her shoulders and made a pouty face. This was going to be a long day indeed.

After what seemed like an hour (or maybe it was just minutes. Who knew?) Rachel and Roland came to a particularly tall dune. Rachel trudged up it with legs that felt like lead. Please let there be something on the other side. Anything. I don't care if it's Pennywise waving a bloody arm at us, she prayed. They halted when they got to the top. Rachel's heart dropped. More desert. At least the sun was getting lower. She glanced down and saw something at the base of the other side of the dune. It looked like the scattered remains of a small fire.

"Roland." Rachel tapped his arm. He glanced at her and she pointed.

"Finally," he breathed. He made his way down the dune. Rachel slowly followed. When she got to the bottom, Roland was knelt down with his hand over the remains.

"How warm is it?" she asked.

"Cold. He's been gone a while." Roland looked around as if expecting to see a black speck on the horizon.

"It would be nice if we knew which way he's headed."

"He's headed east." Roland started picking through the ashes. He picked up a burnt piece of what looked like bacon and started eating it.

Rachel made a face. She was hungry, but not that hungry.

"We will rest here for the evening. Pick up our trail in the morning."

Rachel was exhausted. The heat had been draining. She sank to her knees.

Roland took off his leather trench coat. "Here. You're going to need this."

He held it out to Rachel. She eyed it hesitantly. "I can't."

"Take it. It gets cold at night."

Rachel put on the coat. If it was damp from his sweat, she couldn't tell as she was covered with it herself.

"I never told you my name," she realized.

He turned to face her. "Oh? And what is it?"

"Rachel. My name's Rachel."

He nodded. "Nice to meet you, Rachel."

She smiled. Roland seemed nice enough, in a gruff, western movie type of way. But she was grateful for his company. She eventually decided to settle down. Finally, the sun started to set. Rachel shivered. Roland got up to pull some of the dry grass that Rachel had been seeing random patches of.

"Whatever you do, don't watch the fire," he said as he bent to lay it over the burnt grass that was laying on top of the ash pile.

"Why not?"

"This is devil's grass. Border dwellers believe that devils live in the fires started by it. If you look at it, they'll hypnotize you and draw you into it. Then you'll be stuck in the flames."

"Well that sounds charming."

"It's probably superstition, but I don't like to risk it."

"Don't blame you." Rachel pulled Roland's coat up under her chin. "So what's in Pricetown?"

"Nothing much. I'm hoping to get some food there. A mule. Something."

Roland took out a small steel rod. Rachel watched as he struck it against a piece of flint.

"Spark-a-dark, where's my sire? Will I lay me? Will I stay me? Bless this camp with fire."

Roland's voice was so soft, like he was saying a prayer.

"That was pretty. What was it?"

"An old blessing from my realm, used for hearth and home."

He struck the flint a few more times, then finally a meager flame started.

"So you're not from here either?"

Roland sighed. A deep, weary sigh. "No."

"I almost feel like we're in purgatory. Or at least I think I am."

"And why would you think you deserve to be there?" Roland bent and blew lightly on the fire to help it spread.

"Because I loved someone I shouldn't have. Someone bad."

"Was he bad to you?"

"Not particually." Rachel shifted her position. "And I really don't feel like talking about it just yet."

"Fair enough." Roland took off his guns and laid them across his lap. "You should get some rest. I'll keep first watch."

Rachel frowned at him. "You don't sleep when you're by yourself?"

Roland shrugged. "Not much I can do about it if I am killed in my sleep. You I can at least warn."

Rachel laid down on the hard pan ground. "Thanks for that, I guess. I feel bad for you though."

Roland fingered his pistol. "It's a gunslinger's life.

"Gunslinger?" Rachel asked as she tried to get comfortable.

"Sleep. I will tell you my tale one day."

Rachel took a deep breath and settled down. At least the dune behind them gave them relief from the wind.

That night she dreamed of a little girl with long cooper curls. I had been weeks since she had dreamed of her unborn daughter. Eleanor ran through a field of red poppies as Rachel watched. A tall tower stood behind them. Next to Rachel, their guardian, Roland, silently guarded the two.

And Rachel felt true peace for the first time in weeks.