Sandstorm Box Set

by T. W. Piperbrook

  “She’s fine.” Samara hesitated. “She’s asleep again.”

  Samel couldn’t stop his thoughts from racing. Was Neena going to die? And where was Raj?

  “It’s going to be all right, Samel,” Samara said, grabbing his arms. “I promise we’ll figure all this out. We just need some time.”

  He looked into her eyes, wanting to believe her.

  Despite her reassurances, Samel didn’t see how it could ever be all right again.

  Chapter 13: Bryan

  “To the Comm Building!” Bryan mouthed, keeping the remainder of his followers quietly moving.

  Men and women hurried, or hobbled, soundlessly down the center path of the colony. The looks on their faces were much different than the line he’d led down from the cliffs. Courageous postures had turned to panicked slumps. Chatter had turned to silence. A few people carried broken spears, or bags, but many had lost them. None of that mattered now, as much as survival.

  He directed them faster, past the tithing and supply buildings and between the broken houses in the alleys on either side. A mass of people followed, creeping over the ground.

  They passed by some of the wreckage he recognized from earlier trips to the colony. Piles of mud brick littered the former alleyways. More bones were dragged out and picked over. The smell of rancid death clung to his nose, reminding him of their fate, if they didn’t find cover.

  A lone, circular roof towered in the distance.

  Bryan and his people veered toward it.

  Soon they approached the back of the annex, and the wide, circular path that looped left and right around the Comm Building. Making another split-second decision, Bryan swerved right, avoiding a few piles of scattered mud-brick. Soon they rounded the corner of the towering structure, glimpsing the threshold.

  And then they were at the front entrance.

  “Open the doors!” Bryan mouthed.

  Louie, Clark, Nicholas, and Isaiah stepped ahead of him, approaching the large, shuttered doors that led into the Comm Building. The enormous group of people behind them waited, shoulders slumped, faces painted with fear. No one spoke, or moved.

  Slowly, The Watchers inched open the doors, releasing a whiff of stale air from the building.

  The structure smelled of weeks of dust and disuse, and the last few meals that The Heads of Colony must’ve eaten. Bryan held his breath and moved through the threshold, verifying that no predators had gotten inside, before waving for the others to enter.

  Two by two, the survivors advanced through the entrance. A few women limped with tears in their eyes, carrying their spears. Bryan glanced at a man with a bloodstained stomach, who winced as two others ushered him through. And then they were all inside, closing the doors, putting the braces in position, and shutting out the carnage outside.

  **

  Bryan looked around the dimly lit Comm Building. All around him, men—and the few women who had marched with them—held torches, quietly tending to the wounded, or sipping their flasks nervously. Some lay in pained heaps on the floor, while others situated themselves in the rooms formerly occupied by the veteran Watchers. More guarded the doors, lurking among the shadowy, yellowed animal skeletons hanging on the wall.

  The rumbling and the screaming had stopped.

  Still, no one spoke.

  They were safe, for the moment, but Bryan wasn’t foolish enough to believe the creature was gone.

  Walking through the structure, he located a few of his men gathered near the center table. Bags, supplies, and spears lay haphazardly on its surface. Under the glow of the torchlight, Louie, Clark, Nicholas, and Isaiah awaited his instructions.

  Leaning close to Louie, Bryan whispered, “Where are Rodney and Boyle?”

  Louie shook his head.

  Bryan blinked hard, feeling a pang of despair that he hadn’t expected. “How many of our group survived?”

  “I’m not sure,” Louie answered quietly, looking around. “We grabbed whom we could among the injured. Most of the casualties were the horn blowers, of course. But we lost some Watchers and some others in the line. I think Rodney and Boyle were among them.”

  Bryan blew a slow breath. Ever since they’d reached the Comm Building and safety, all he could do was review what had gone wrong. The monster was savage and unpredictable, operating on primal instincts. But his people should have listened more closely.

  The horn blowers should have listened more closely.

  He couldn’t accuse the dead, but that didn’t stop his rage. He kept remembering the moment that first horn blower had strayed off course. Everything had gone to pandemonium after that.

  “Our thought to use the unintelligent ones as bait failed us,” he said with an angry sigh. “We’ll have to retool our plan.”

  His failure stung. They were supposed to be using this room as a victory chamber, not another squalid cave. A few of his men looked at the strange device he held. He’d never even had a chance to use it.

  “At least you kept hold of the device,” Louie said, with a grateful nod.

  It was a small miracle.

  Louie fell silent, looking around the room at the men and women, and Bryan followed his gaze. A few of the injured agonized quietly, afraid to make noise. Others paced nervously. A few women cried, or held onto one another. The man with the bloodstained stomach suffered in a corner, lying prone on the floor.

  Death hung over the room like a vaporous cloud.

  The irrational part of Bryan wanted to rush outside, lure the monster, and try killing it again. But that would certainly lead to more deaths. Instead, he looked toward the door, where his Watchers stood nervously, holding their spears. Another row of people behind them looked from wall to wall, listening for rumbling. Bryan glanced up at the ceiling, tracing the rounded contours of the dome. He’d been in here on numerous occasions—always during the meetings of The Heads of Colony—but never for an extended period of time. Only the unmarried Watchers lived here. Still, the structure had always struck him as impenetrable. More than one time during a storm, he’d wished he’d been here, riding it out.

  If only he could be assured that the walls could withstand the monster.

  Seeing the frustration on his face, Louie walked closer. “What’s our next move?”

  Looking around the room at all the tired and the wounded, Bryan grew resolved.

  “We’ll stay here so our people can rest and recover. We’ll mend our weapons. And then we’ll figure out another plan.” His voice grew hard. “One thing is for certain. We’re not heading back to the cliffs until the monster is dead.”

  Chapter 14: Sherry

  Sherry fought her way through the cave’s dark shadows, her heart slamming against her chest. She couldn’t forget the things she’d seen in the desert: the monster, the screaming, and the chaos. Nor could she forget the skirmish on the cliffs, which had filled her body with adrenaline.

  She glanced behind her, listening to the voices behind her fade. Soon, the quietness of the cave swallowed up everything but her footsteps.

  Winding with the cave’s turns, she found her way past the first cove, shining her torch into that first, empty recess. The injured people once staying there no longer convalesced.

  Only the second cove was occupied.

  Sherry approached quietly, greeting Jameson, before stepping into the foul-smelling room. The oppressive air reminded her of the important man inside.

  “Gideon,” she whispered, taking up by his bedside.

  Turning his disfigured face toward her, he adjusted his blankets and said, “Sherry.”

  Sherry swallowed. Of course, he had expected Bryan. But she had to prove to him that she was an ally, and not just the woman behind the man he trusted. “I came to update you on what has happened.”

  Gideon’s eye rolled on her. He opened and closed his chapped lips, awaiting more details. If she’d been in an alley in Red Rock, he might’ve ignored her, but now she had his full attention.

  “Is the be
ast dead?” he asked.

  Sherry felt a sting of failure for Bryan. Hoping to compensate for what might be considered disappointing news, she said, “Our people fought the monster bravely. They lured it with their horns, threw their spears, and tried killing it, but the beast was unpredictable. It crashed into the side of the rock spire, killing some and wounding others. It caused an avalanche that forced them to flee.”

  “Where’s Bryan?”

  “Alive,” Sherry said with relief.

  “How do you know?”

  “His weapon made him easy to spot. I followed him with my eyes after the monster attacked, and saw him valiantly leading the others to safety in the Comm Building. They regrouped.”

  “A blessing,” Gideon said, nodding. “And where is the monster now?”

  “No one has seen it since the attack,” Sherry said, “But I fear even the people it consumed did not sate it.”

  Anger welled up in Gideon’s expression. “It will not leave easily, after tasting more Red Rock flesh. The Red Rock traitors have caused more bloodshed.”

  “We have begun punishing them,” Sherry reported.

  “You have?”

  Gideon listened intently, while she detailed the attack she’d led on Neena and Kai. Pride took over her face as she told how their people carried their limp bodies away.

  “The Right Cavers are scared,” Sherry affirmed. “Especially now that Darius is dead.”

  A smile wrinkled Gideon’s scars.

  Feeding off his satisfaction, she said, “I think we’ve taught them a lesson that words never could.”

  Gideon reveled in the news, before his smile faded. “They are weak, but ultimately, we want the rest of the Right Cavers on our side. Do not forget that. A colony is no colony without people to fill it.”

  Sherry refrained from a response.

  “What are Neena’s and Kai’s injuries?”

  “I am not sure,” Sherry said. “Though I would like to find out, so I can finish what I started.”

  “Perhaps they are dead,” Gideon said, a strange expression taking over his face.

  Impatience made Sherry scratch the scars on her skin. “I do not know for sure, but I will find out, so I can end them, if possible.”

  Gideon thought on it for a long moment. “Leave them alone, while we wait for things to settle. All things will come in time.” Gideon watched her for a moment, ensuring she understood. “How are the people in the Left and Center Caves doing?”

  “We’ve consolidated the women, children, and elderly into the Center Cave.”

  “A good idea. All are safe?”

  “All are safe.”

  “Another boon.” Clearing phlegm from his throat and swallowing it, Gideon said, “Keep your guards posted, and keep an eye on the Right Cave, just in case. In the meantime, I have faith that Bryan will do what he promised. Where one plan fails, another will arise. He will kill the monster and lead us to victory. I am sure of it.”

  Sherry nodded. An unexpected tear fell down her cheek. Too many emotions had followed the monster’s most recent attack. It felt as if she and the Left and Center Cavers lived in some dark, primal hell, waiting for the last jab from misery’s knife.

  But soon, they’d be through the suffering and into the light.

  “Leave Bryan to his work,” Gideon told her, watching her dab her tear away. “Once the monster is dead, he will take care of everything, and our colony will return to glory.”

  Sherry nodded, moving for the entrance.

  She had no arguments, but her mind was already running new scenarios. She couldn’t help her burgeoning anger. She was through sitting around and waiting. She was ready to take action. Gideon had his goals and plans.

  She had hers.

  Chapter 15: Raj

  Pain burned throughout Raj’s body.

  He blinked and groaned, certain that he was dead, or food for a foul creature.

  It felt as if someone had flung him from the top of the cliffs.

  Or dropped him from the top of a spire.

  Dead.

  I must be dead and dreaming.

  It wasn’t until he felt the sand in the corners of his eyes, and the taste of it in his mouth, that he thought he might be alive. The hot sun beat down on his back, sticking his shirt to his skin. A light wind blew up and over him.

  He was on his stomach, near where the attack happened, covered in sand.

  Raj lifted his head, dripping stringy drool. Slowly, he wiggled his fingers and toes. His body was stiff, sore, and swollen, but his appendages worked. He raised a hand and wiped away his spit, ridding himself of some of the dirty paste. Raj squinted, but the glare of the sun prevented him from seeing clearly.

  Slowly, he pulled himself into a crawling position.

  And froze.

  Where was the monster?

  He paused, lifting an achy hand to shield his eyes. Long shadows stretched between the mammoth rock spires, crisscrossing the desert. The stone structures rose like giant’s legs. About a dozen feet away from Raj, a cavernous hole plunged to darkness.

  He saw no sign of the hideous creature.

  No sign of anyone.

  He shuddered.

  Memories of his comrades’ screams, and their hasty, running feet, rushed back to him with such clarity that he instinctively backed away. The last thing he remembered was trying to help Eddie, before he flew through the air, assumedly to his death. His eyes riveted to the hole again, watching for signs of teeth or scaled skin. He crawled about ten feet and stopped, his knees and palms stinging from the friction of the sand. He held his gasping breath.

  The world was silent save the wind.

  Raj turned east, spotting another hole in the distance. A person’s broken spear lay near it. On another side lay an abandoned bag. A desire struck him, so hard and so fast that it overtook his thoughts.

  Water.

  Choking on the pasty sand, he crawled in the direction of the bag, praying it contained a flask. Thirst consumed him. He could think of nothing more than liquid.

  Praying the monster didn’t detect him, he moved quietly and quickly. Soon his hands were fumbling with the bag. He kept an eye on the hole while he rummaged through it.

  A few rags.

  A spare shirt.

  There had to be water. There had to be—

  A flask.

  Raj held it up, gently shaking it. Half full. Thank the heavens! He uncapped it and drank, using a little to clean out his mouth, spitting quietly before drinking some more. He blinked again, relieved, but weak.

  The quiet bothered him.

  Two hundred people had marched down to the colony. Was he the last one alive? He looked past the hole and around him, certain he’d find his comrades searching for him, but he saw only more broken spears. Raj fought the glare and looked up to the cliffs. It felt like late afternoon, maybe evening. In a few shadows by the entrance of the Right Cave, he thought he saw silhouettes, but he couldn’t be sure.

  Maybe he was the last person alive on the planet.

  Whatever the case, he needed to get away from here.

  Carrying the flask, he crawled away from the hole. He needed to find The Watchers.

  Something brushed his hand. Raj cried out and spun, facing whatever reached out for him.

  A severed arm, half-covered in sand.

  Crooked fingers reached out from the body-less appendage. The rest of the person was nowhere in sight.

  Raj stifled his panic and backed farther away, spinning and looking around. More body parts lay in his path of travel. A bitten-off leg. An unraveled string of intestines. Ten feet away, a severed head appraised him with glassy eyes.

  In horror, Raj recognized the person.

  Eddie.

  Raj couldn’t control his emotion.

  Smearing frightened tears, he stumbled to his feet and found the strength to walk. Fear and adrenaline carried his legs. He hurried away from the holes and the bodies, searching for someone—anyone—who co
uld help him, using the spires to hide, in case the monster was near. He looked up to the cliffs again, but this time the shadows only looked like crevices in the rocks.

  What if all the others were really dead, and this was his hell?

  **

  A few dozen steps later, the soreness in Raj’s legs worsened. He stumbled, weak and thirsty. It felt as if the sun had dried out his body and his mind, sapping him of strength and clarity. He held up the flask, sipping greedily, but stopped. His survival instincts kicked in.

  He knew it was dangerous to drink too much, too fast.

  Dehydrated or not, he needed to be careful. Blinking against the sun’s dying glare, he maneuvered around a few more scattered bodies, heading in the direction of the colony.

  One man lay on his back, his body flattened, his tongue lolling from his crushed face. Another man’s jawbone protruded through his cheek. With a shudder, Raj recognized Boyle, one of Bryan’s men.

  Be quiet, or you’ll be next.

  If this wasn’t a dream, or hell, then the monster might lurk nearby.

  Shielding his eyes, he weaved between the spires, walking heel to toe, passing in and out of the shadows of the rock formations. Every so often, he rested. More than once, his legs threatened to crumple. He was starting to think he might collapse when he saw something.

  Boot prints.

  Lots of them.

  The prints were obscured, partially covered in sand, but he could just make them out. He studied them through his weakness. More than likely they led to the cliffs, which he’d never reach.

  To his surprise—and his hope—they headed in a single direction: to the center of the colony.

  Steadying himself, Raj followed them.

  Chapter 16: Bryan

  Something crashed against the doors.

  Heads turned. The Watchers jolted, holding up their spears. A few of the men put their weight against the braces. Bryan had been right to question the integrity of the building.

  The monster was here again.

  “Hold still!” he mouthed.

  All around the room, men and women stifled gasps, or held on to one another. The wounded looked frantically from where they lay, to the entrance, probably praying for their ancestors to save them. They wouldn’t make it more than a few steps before the monster devoured them.