by Leo Romero
What’s wrong with this guy? Why isn’t he busy beheading me?
Behind them all, those panicked voices were ongoing. The burly guy pointed with his free hand beyond the pyramid. His finger was visibly shaking. Dom frowned and looked to where he was pointing. His jaw dropped. A colossal yellow cloud of dust was heading their way like a giant wave just begging to be surfed.
Dom’s mind pinged in alarm. Sandstorm.
The burly guy dropped the blade to the sand and backed up, his whole body jittering. He’d forgotten all about the guy he was supposed to behead and was instead getting ready to leave in a hurry.
A roar split the air. Dom whipped his head the other way. Nixon was on his feet, his hands clamped around the neck of a jihadi. Beyond that, jihadis were either on their heels and running or caught in battle with some of the other POWs who were also up on their feet and fighting back. Nixon’s beetroot-colored face tremored as he exerted more pressure. A bone snapped and the jihadi dropped. Without hesitation, Nixon whipped up the dead guy’s assault rifle, aimed at the throng of other masked thugs and let rip. Gunfire rasped through the air. A bunch of jihadis caught the bullets and fell to the sand. Other Glo-Ji reacted. They aimed their guns and fired. Nixon grabbed the nearest jihadi and pulled him tight into his chest, ducking down behind him. Bullets came their way. The jihadi caught the brunt of them, Nixon using him as a shield. When a pause came in the shooting, Nixon popped up over his now dead shield’s shoulder and fired his gun toward his attackers. Jihadis dropped to the sand and bled out. Nixon dumped the body in his grip to the ground like it was a dead rat. He immediately looked around him for more guys to fight.
Dom watched on, his body frozen, his mind in a whirl. He had no idea what was going on. One minute, he was expecting to die, now suddenly he was alive and kicking.
Behind him, the burly executioner finally turned on his heels and ran.
No you don’t!
Dom threw out a hand. He grabbed hold of the asshole’s ankle and the guy went sprawling face first into the sand. While chaos ensued around him, Dom went straight over to the blade and picked it up. It was hefty, needed two hands to hold. He gazed at it for a second. There was blood still smeared on the blade. Some of it Faisal’s. With a sneer emerging on his face, he stood over the executioner. The guy rolled onto his back. He waved his hands on the air, begging to be spared. Dom looked from him to the blade in his hand. He gripped the handle with both hands and raised it high above the guy’s chest.
The executioner went into a frenzy. “No, no, no, no, no!” he stammered.
Dom sucked in a big breath. “This is for Faisal, asshole!” he snarled before plunging the tip of the blade straight into the executioner’s chest. Blood sprayed up like a geyser, bones crunched. Dom pushed harder until he felt the blade penetrate sand. The executioner seized up, his hands going straight to the blade. They slid down it, opening up his palms. His limbs tremored for a couple of seconds, and he flopped down, skewered to the Sahara.
Dom took an erratic breath, his focus fixed on the dead guy by his feet. All he could think of in that moment was Faisal.
“Dom!”
Trixie!
Dom came back to life. He snapped his head up. Trixie was racing over to him, half bent over.
She reached his side and grabbed hold of him. Dom pulled her in tight and closed his eyes. She felt so good. Relief, comfort, and joy all rolled into one. He seriously thought it was over. To have her this close alive and kicking was surreal like the best dream he’d ever had. He hugged her tighter, relishing the moment.
“We gotta get outta here!” Trixie said, breaking the spell.
Dom opened his eyes. Ahead of them, bodies were dropping left and right. Some POWs were fleeing the scene alongside the jihadis who decided to break ranks. The ones that remained were engaged with POWs, either firing off guns or waving machetes around. The blades cut through limbs in the madness, blood spraying across the sand to the sound of insane screeches. Bullets tore through the air, peppering the sand, sending it up. It was madness, a chaotic cacophony of violence. And all the while, that massive cloud of dust descended on them like a tidal wave, turning the sky dark.
Dom laid eyes on it. Alarm bells went off in his mind. If that thing caught them...
“Dempsey!” came Nixon’s roaring voice.
Dom whipped his head around in its direction. Nixon was grappling with the leader guy; two rhinos clashing head-on.
“Get a vehicle and get outta here!” Nixon growled from the side of his mouth, the leader’s hand mashed into the other side.
Dom whirled around. The convoy vehicles greeted him. Some of them were missing, the jihadis having made their escape. Dom laid eyes on an armored vehicle.
“Dom! Lookout!”
He caught Trixie’s warning at the last moment. Something cut across the air to his right. He ducked. The machete missed him by inches. In the next instant, Trixie’s hands landed on Dom’s back. She propelled herself off him with a roar, landing both her feet in the jihadi’s chest. She hit the sand while the jihadi was sent reeling.
Dom stood upright. “Thanks,” he said down to Trixie as he rushed past her and brought a hard foot down on the jihadi’s head. His neck snapped like a twig. He went and helped Trixie to her feet. “Come on.” He darted over to the armored vehicle. He closed his eyes and prayed for a bit of luck as he tried the door handle. It popped open. With wide eyes he looked straight at the ignition. Keys dangled from it. He looked up at the sky. “Thank you!” He turned to Trixie. “Get in!”
He jumped in the driver’s seat, while Trixie got in shotgun. From where they were, facing the pyramid, the whole scene was playing out ahead of them. Bodies were strewn on the bloodstained sand. Tiny pockets of fighting were still ongoing. Most of the jihadis and POWs were either dead or had fled the stage. Vehicles were becoming dots in the distance as the seconds ticked by. Over to the right, that cloud descended like a plague, getting ever closer.
“Let’s get outta here!” said Dom, reaching for the ignition key.
Trixie rolled her eyes toward him. “Did you mean... what you said back there?”
Dom frowned. He let go of the keys and met her stare. She kept her head facing forward. Without hesitation, he reached over, placed a hand on her cheek and turned her head to face him. He planted his lips on hers, injecting as much passion as he could muster into his kiss. Yeah, he meant it, was she kidding? He meant it, and having come back from the brink, it made it all the sweeter.
She kissed him back, pressing her lips firmly against his. He wanted to stay there forever, had been waiting for that moment for so long, and it finally came, but typically, an impending sandstorm was about to swallow them up. He had no choice but to break off. “We’ll finish that later,” he said, going for the keys again.
Trixie sat back. “You better!”
“Oh, I will!” Dom said with a chuckle. He went to turn the engine on, when a Nixon roar tore the air in two. Dom snapped his head back up. Nixon was still grappling with the leader. He managed to push him off. He threw out a punch, catching the jihadi in the side of the head. The jihadi staggered back, tripping over a prone body on the ground. He was sent sprawling. Nixon seized the opportunity. He grabbed up a machete and dived in, plunging it into the leader’s chest.
That was him taken care of. “Nice work, Husky,” Dom muttered to himself. That asshole deserved it.
Nixon stood upright and looked around. A couple of POWs were loitering around, a young girl and a middle-aged guy. They had their arms around each other, frozen in fear. Nixon leaped up to them. He pointed at the vehicles. On doing so, he caught Dom’s stare. Dom immediately waved them all over. Nixon got moving, literally dragging the POWs with him. Once they got the message, they followed up, Nixon bouncing across the sand toward Dom’s vehicle. Dom kept an eye on that cloud the whole while; it was edging dangerously close.
Nixon reached the vehicle. He popped open the back door and ushered in the couple
of POWs he’d managed to save. They took their seats along the sides of the vehicle. Nixon jumped in, slamming the door shut behind him. “Get us outta here, Dempsey!” he growled.
“No problem!” Dom went to turn the ignition when something else caught his eye. Someone emerged from the entrance to the pyramid and was staggering down the steps. Strapped to his back was a strange looking rifle.
Dom’s mouth became an O. No way... “Is that...” he began.
Trixie’s eyes widened. “Rufus?”
Rufus made it to the sand and he grabbed his knees. The guy looked exhausted.
“How the hell did he get here?” Dom asked.
Trixie shook her head. “I dunno. But, from the looks of things, Roo did the business!”
Dom glanced over at that ominous cloud. It was crazy close now. “And then some,” he said, suddenly understanding its arrival. Rufus had killed a major vampire and nature had subsequently gone crazy.
Rufus noticed the sandstorm and he sparked into life. He began backing up, his whole body cringing in terror.
Dom slammed his hand down on the horn. The noise alerted Rufus; he turned to face them, his back straightening. He met Dom’s concerned stare and his eyes flashed with happiness. A grin spread across his face. Dom frantically ushered him over. “Come here!”
Rufus scurried over as fast as he could, his legs like two tiny pistons. Every now and then he glanced over his shoulder in trepidation at that giant cloud of dust. On reaching the vehicle, he patted Dom’s window. He began speaking in sign. Dom glanced from him to Trixie.
Trixie’s eyes lit up. “You got it? The Heart? You mean you got it?”
Dom looked at Rufus. He was nodding, a big grin on his face.
A smile crept up Dom’s cheeks. “Way to go, Roo.”
Rufus put both his thumbs up.
Dom glanced at the massive cloud beyond Rufus. “Okay, buddy, we can congratulate you later. Get in!”
Rufus nodded and scampered away. The back door opened up and he climbed in.
“So, Rufus, my man,” Dom shouted, watching him through the rear-view mirror. “How the hell did you—” Dom stopped short. Rufus was standing there, eyeing Nixon with venom. Dom sensed trouble. Rufus grabbed the rifle from his shoulder and aimed the butt at Nixon, just as he jumped to his feet, ready to defend himself. The female hostage yelped.
“Hey!” Dom shouted, stopping both of them mid-action.
Rufus glanced at Dom. He replaced his gun on his shoulder and began speaking sign to Trixie.
“There’s no time for that, Roo,” she answered. “We gotta get outta here! So, just both of you sit down, then we’ll work it all out once we’re safe!”
“You should listen to her, kid,” Nixon said, cocking a thumb Trixie’s way.
Rufus gave him daggers for a prolonged second, neither of them backing down.
“Sit!” Trixie demanded.
Rufus glanced over his shoulder. He backed off toward a seat. He pointed across the way to the seat opposite, indicating for Nixon to take that one. Nixon gave him a brief nod before backing up. Both of them planted their asses down in their respective seats, their stares fixed on one another.
Trixie rolled her eyes. She faced the front once more. “Okay, get us outta here, Dom.”
“Your wish is my command!” With a smug grin, he turned the ignition. The engine coughed, and then died. Dom’s grin melted. What’s going on? He tried again. Cough. Then, nothing. “Oh, you gotta be shitting me!”
“Get moving, Dempsey,” Nixon shouted, his stare still on Rufus.
“I’m trying!” Dom said back through clenched teeth, the engine continuing to cough, but not kick in. he thumped the steering wheel in frustration. “Great!” he said, turning to face Trixie.
Trixie’s eyes widened, her gaze fixed on the windshield. Dom looked that way. The sandstorm had reached them. It effortlessly swallowed half of the pyramid in one quick gulp, obscuring it from view.
Trixie gasped. “Keep trying, Dom.”
Dom turned the key. The engine continued to cough. He frantically turned it, slamming the gas. Nothing. “Come on, come on!”
The cloud hovered over them like Death itself. The world descended into darkness. The first tendrils of the sandstorm reached them. Its bulbous fingers touched them.
“What are you waiting for, Dempsey?” Nixon growled.
The moment he did, the world altered. The cloud swept over them, transforming everything into a hazy, brown whirlpool. Dust swirled all around them, obscuring the windshield, peppering the vehicle from all angles like hailstones, a tinny pinning sound dominating the airwaves. Wind rocked the vehicle left and right, threatening to topple them over. The female hostage let out another yelp. Trixie grabbed hold of the dash as they were rocked like a baby in its cradle. A continuous whoosh! swirled around Dom’s mind. He stared out of the windshield in horror, sand already gathering on it.
He grabbed the key and tried again. This time, the engine coughed into life. “Oh, now you decide to work!” he vented. He slammed the gas and the vehicle zoomed forward into the hazy world surrounding them. He flicked on the wipers. They managed to push away most of the accumulated sand, giving him a clear view, which wasn’t saying much.
“I’ve no idea where I’m going!” he said as he continued to just go straight ahead, the view outside the windshield a dark orangey-brown.
“Just try and outrun this goddamn sandstorm!” Trixie retorted, gripping the sides of her seat. The vehicle bounced up and around on the uneven ground as the intense wind rushed past them, sand slamming into the vehicle in clumps like they were driving through an alley lined with tennis ball launchers.
Dom pushed the gas harder. Trixie was right, they needed to get out of the cloud, then work it out from there. He sped along the Sahara to an unknown destination on an invisible trail, the vehicle bumping this way and that. Trixie scanned the windshield the whole time, her grip on her seat tightening, turning her knuckles white. The guys in the back were watching the front, anxiety plastered all over their faces, even Rufus and Nixon had stopped giving one another daggers and were more concerned with where they were headed.
“It’s all under control, guys!” Dom said through gritted teeth, just as they went over another bump.
“Just keep going straight,” Trixie said.
Dom could read the fear in her eyes. Typical, he thought to himself. I finally get it on with Trixie and then we might die straight after!
He gripped the steering wheel tighter, sand smashing against the windshield, the wipers sweeping it away immediately.
From out of the haze came a dark mass. A black block formed, growing bigger by the second. It was another vehicle. It slowed, and then came slamming into them.
“Woah!” Dom shouted, the jolt causing them to veer to the side. He regained control, just as the vehicle came slamming into them once more. The girl POW was thrown off her seat. Nixon grabbed her before she hit the floor.
Dom scrutinized the other vehicle with wide eyes. A face appeared at the passenger window. A masked face. Dom nodded in understanding. A final attempt to kill them.
Dom clenched his teeth and tightened his grip on the wheel. He pushed down on the gas. They bumped up and down with more ferocity. Dom caught up with the other vehicle and swung his steering wheel across to the right. This time it was them who did the slamming. They smashed into the side of them with a mighty crash. Everyone rocked in their seats. The jihadi’s vehicle swerved away under the impact. Dom straightened up, the vehicle jolting up and down on the sand, the wind continuing to thrash against the windows.
“Hold on to your butts!” he muttered to himself, just as a looming dark shape appeared at his window.
The jihadis bashed into them once more, this time harder. Dom was sent careering off to the left, hitting a few vicious bumps on the way. The vehicle jumped along like a frog, Dom’s ass leaving his seat and smashing back down again. His body became taught, the steering wheel wanting to t
urn all on its own. He wrestled with it, determined to hold it steady. He glanced in his rear-view. The guys in the back were sprawled all over the show. Rufus was gingerly making it back into his seat.
“Everyone okay back there?” Dom shouted.
He was answered by nervy groans. He focused back on the dark, crazy world outside. Just ahead and to the right, a dark mass was racing along. It began to veer over toward them.
“All right, enough of this crap!” Dom said to himself.
He floored the gas, a steely determination etched into his face. He kept his focus on that dark mass as it grew in clarity with each passing second. The jihadi’s vehicle moved just ahead of them. Dom swerved at the last second, missing it by inches. He drew away from it, while remaining level with them. He bit his bottom lip, hit the gas harder, and yanked the wheel across. They slid across the sand like a juggernaut. Dom kept his focus on them the whole time. The enemy vehicle dominated the view out of his window. The jihadi riding shotgun saw what was coming at the last moment. His eyes bulged.
Dom smashed into them as hard and fast as he could. There was a mighty jolt, a crash of metal on metal. The jihadi was thrown across his seat. Their vehicle tipped to the side, the front and back tires leaving the sand. Before anyone had a chance to breathe, the ethereal wind took control. It literally picked the vehicle up from the bottom, throwing it over. It gathered momentum and the jihadi vehicle flipped up and over and rolled away at a crazy pace like a piece of tumbleweed. It vanished somewhere into the haze never to be seen again.
Dom regained control to cheers from all around him.
“Nice work, Dempsey!” Nixon grunted.
Dom grinned. He wiped the sweat from his brow and kept his focus ahead of him. He sped on a bit further and the wind appeared to calm. Just as it did, they shot out of the dust cloud, clear broad daylight suddenly shining in through the dirt-caked windshield. Bright yellow sand greeted them, beautiful blue sky above them. Dom never thought he’d be so pleased to see the desert again. Serenity surrounded them. No more wind, no more sand pummeling them. It was like night and day, like emerging out of a river.