Page 99 of Evan and the Alpha

30

Sobek

Sand whips into my eyes and I curse. Of course there would be a sandstorm now. Of course.

“Sobek,” Yafir calls to me as we trudge across the shifting sands. “Sobek, please. We need to slow down.”

He casts a backward glance at the rest of the party struggling up the dune we’re climbing. There are several kroakka, but Darwin and Vince are also plodding along.

I grit my teeth. They’re holding us back.

Yafir lands a hand on my arm. He gives me a reproachful look, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. I have to look away, because I’m guilty as charged—I know, deep down, that Vince and Darwin are not what’s holding us back.

We don’t know how long we’re going to be out here. We don’t have much information to go on. All we know is that Evan left the ship and, according to hisbrother, headed in a southerly direction. Darwin’s tried explaining how that doesn’t mean much at all, because of the altitude the ship was at when the shuttle departed.

Evan could literally be on the other side of the planet. I have no idea how we’ll get to him if that’s the case. I know the land ends, eventually, dropping off into a bottomless blue expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. We call it the ocean, and legends say that on the other side of it is the land of the dead, the underworld.

What if Evan crashed there? What if he’s drowned or the ship sunk? What if he’s out there, just floating on the waves of the ocean, helpless?

I don’t think I can be blamed for wanting to move faster. But this damned sandstorm, combined with the fact that we’re hauling a lot of gear because this could turn into a long trip, means we can’t move swiftly.

I wish that we were on the river, that I could simply dive in and follow the current to the ocean. Perhaps it would carry me all the way to Evan.

“Sorry,” I mutter to Yafir.

He sighs. “I know you’re concerned,” he murmurs, “but you do have to think of the others. What good will we be to Evan if we die or get lost before we reach him?”

There are lots of reasons to hurry, I think, even if it means pushing ourselves past the brink of exhaustion. Even if it means battling the storm, at risk of getting lost in it.

They make a lot of sense in my head, but I suspect they won’t make much sense when I speak. So I stay silent, save my breath for the task at hand: sliding down the other side of the dune.

“We should head for the river,” Darwin says as he trots up beside us.

Like we weren’t already doing that. I have to resist snapping at him. “That would be a wise idea,” Yafir agrees, far more diplomatic than I care to be at the moment.

“It would be helpful if anyone knew which way the river was,” I mutter, letting my shoulders slump. I should have known better than to press on when the winds sprang up. We should have hunkered down, battened the hatches. Waited out the fury of the wind god.

I know all this; the desert is wide and vast, and it is easy to get lost. It’s even easier to get lost when one can’t see where they’re going.

Too late now. We struggle on through the shifting sands, the wind buffeting us, as though telling us to head back the way we came.

At long last, we reach the river. In fact, it comes up so suddenly that Yafir and I almost stumble right into it.

The search party slowly collects on the bank. “Where now?” Yafir asks, turning around.

Vince is looking over Darwin’s shoulder at a strange metal object. Darwin shakes his head. “No good,” he murmurs. “It’s not working.”

Vince frowns. “Maybe ’cause there’s no magnetic north?”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Darwin mutters. “The planet has to have a magnetic field.”

“Or maybe the storm’s messing it up?” Vince suggests, and Darwin huffs at him.

I’m glad I’m not the only one whose patience is running short.

Yafir turns his questioning gaze on me. “Well?”

“Well what?”