Of course I wanted to go back. But not with him. Something about him made me rebel at the idea of agreeing to anything he suggested. We didn’t even have time to finish our argument. The station’s alarms sounded, and I stood there like an idiot with my mouth hanging open, trying to figure out where the blaring sound was coming from when he dragged me to the lifepods.
I can’t believe he had the nerve to try and get in with me. In retrospect, I should have let him in. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in theworld to be here with Tai. He might have even known how to land this damned thing. We could have gotten a signal out for help.
I must have fallen asleep at some point through the night because a small strip of light cuts through the darkness, perfectly aligned with my eyes. Everything hurts. My swollen ankles, my throbbing head, the blistering sunburn, and everything in between. I gently test my cheeks and nose. The light touch shoots pain all over.
Yeah, that’s gonna hurt for a while.
“Not your beautiful face!”Hollis would have teased me about my vanity. There’s nothing wrong with being concerned with the integrity of my skin while exploring a new planet. It’s not an either/or situation.
Today is a good day to discover what else is on this godforsaken sand planet. Months ago, I was desperate to get out of the muraDome. The claustrophobic research facility was boring, and all I could think about was getting out and exploring the unknown. I push the hatch open, and a humorless laugh ripples out of me as sand pours in. My mom always said to be careful what I wished for.
The pod is more than half buried in the sand now and appears to be slowly sinking. That’s concerning.
“I’ll find help today, and everything will be fine,” I say, hoisting myself up. “This is an adventure. It’s supposed to be a little bit terrifying.” I put some force behind the sentiment to convince myself it’s the truth.
The hike up the dune is worse than yesterday. I lack the delusional optimism that pushed me up the hill the first time. Now I know exactly what’s out there, and I’m not excited about facing it. I weigh my options as I slowly work my way up: go in the same direction as yesterday or take a different way and fight through the sand.
I reach the top of the dune and sit to catch my breath. My instincts tell me to find solid ground. This time I’ll take more care to head in one direction.
My first step proves to be just as clumsy as yesterday. For the second time in two days, I fall all the way down to the bottom.
Face down in the dirt, I try to summon the energy and motivation to move. I’m fucked. I’m so deeply fucked. The pack is damp against my shirt, and I already know more of my supplies were destroyed. I confirm my fear that more of the nutrigels have burst, and there are only three hydropacks left.
“It’s okay. It’s fine. Today is going to be different. I’ll get past the sand and dirt to civilization. Yes, civilization is over the horizon, and everything will be okay.”
I drag myself up, straighten my ponytail, and head forward.
SIX
Tai
Just as I predicted, the wind erased Bri’s footprints over the course of the night. What I wasn’t expecting to see was a set of significantly larger, not human, tracks.
They are about twice the size of my feet, made by some four-legged creature with claws. It circled my tent a few times and left me in peace. Whatever it is, I’d like to be far away when it returns.
My visor is malfunctioning and not picking up on Bri’s signature. It only registers her crashed pod that’s about half a day behind me. I take off the visor and tap it against my palm and try again. Just her crashed pod. With no tracks to follow and no visor to pinpoint her location, this day is fucked.
Yesterday I was mad. Today I’m worried. Constantly being on high alert will keep you alive, but it can also drive you crazy. The presence of footprints isn’t the only concern nagging at me.
On Sabaak, there are two main groups of residents. The Sabaaki seem to be a harmless tribe of desert-dwelling folk who keep to themselves. And then there is the Oo’rahim.
The Oo’rahim were banished here about a decade ago. They were granted a remote place to practice their extremist “religion.” More like a cult.
They got chased away because of their weird-ass beliefs and bonkers prophecy. In a rare move, their species wanted them off the planet and got them banned, which is not easy to do. If memory serves, it was specifically their hostility toward females that got them booted.
Now they’re here, shuffling around the desert unencumbered by decency and social norms.
If Bri encounters the locals, they will be spooked. What if they attack her? And the Oo’rahim—well, who knows how they would react. If their past treatment of women is any indication…
Yeah, I really need to get to her first.
I toss the useless visor into my pack and look around. I guess we are doing this the old-fashioned way. I’m going south until I hit the colony.
I stop for the day even though there are a few hours of daylight left. Dark clouds rolled in not long ago, certainly a sign of rain. The only thing that changed was the systematic lightening of my pack as I depleted more of my survival rations. All this walking, and not a single sign of Bri. Not a footprint or discarded nutrigel pouch, nothing.
The tent practically pitches itself, requiring very little help from me. I double-check the anchors to make sure they’re secure when I hear the pitter-pat of raindrops on the nylon material. I look up at the sky and let the multiplying droplets roll over me, washing away the sweat and dust. I twist open the empty hydropacks and set them out to collect the rain.
Before I get completely soaked, I crawl into the tent and settle in for the night. The sound of the rain hitting my tent is relaxing. As myeyes slowly close, my mind drifts to the first time I saw rain. Growing up on space stations meant that the concept of weather was completely new to me. When I landed on j’Tilak, my home planet, for the first time, I felt the wind. Then came the rain. The newness of my surroundings made me feel intoxicated.
