Sandstorm Box Set

by T. W. Piperbrook

  “Give her some room!” Amos called.

  Neena groaned loudly, losing her strength. “I have to—”

  “Have to what?” Samel asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  She closed her eyes, and then she was under again.

  Chapter 8: Raj

  Raj swallowed as the path took its final curve. Far ahead, dozens of Watchers took their first steps onto soft sand, stepping out from the last of the cliff’s shadows. All walked in the careful manner that Bryan had explained, heel to toe. The baking sun showed no mercy, beading their heads with sweat and scorching the sand.

  Soon, it was more people’s turn to leave the cliff path. Raj steeled his nerves as one pair of men after another entered the desert patch leading to the colony.

  One marching step.

  Then another.

  That’s all he had to do, for now.

  He had to be strong. A hero.

  He felt as if he was heading for the edge of the cliff, rather than a flat patch of land. And then he was upon it. Raj glanced at his boot, as if the ground might disappear beneath it, and a gaping mouth might swallow him whole.

  His heart slammed against his ribcage.

  He took the step.

  Raj walked the way Bryan had demonstrated, soundlessly, deliberately. It felt as if he were traveling to some strange, foreign land, rather than back to his colony.

  When he was far enough away that retreating wouldn’t be easy, he turned and glanced behind him.

  All conversation in the line had ceased.

  People looked straight ahead, holding their horns, or toting their spears. Raj turned and glanced at Eddie, who met his eyes. Their time was almost here.

  They waded through the desert until they reached the edge of the trail at the eastern corner of the colony, passing the tithing and storage buildings. The structures looked dirtier than before, but mostly familiar.

  The smell of death invaded his nostrils.

  It was impossible to ignore the odor of decay consuming Red Rock when it was all around Raj, nor could he ignore the destroyed hovels. Gaping holes scarred the ground between them, where the colonists used to carry their buckets.

  The line’s leaders wove north up the hunter’s path, between the tall rock spires that bordered the trail. The gigantic, reddish formations rose straight into the air, towering high above the line on either side, a few hundred feet apart. The first formations were about the width of a few people, but as they moved on, the spires grew wide enough to fill the foundation of a hovel. Raj looked up their smooth sides, remembering how he’d fantasized about climbing up them, back when he was young and foolish enough to believe that were possible.

  To do that, he’d have to be a giant.

  Or a spider, with long, sticky legs.

  Now, those formations would help them defeat the monster.

  They passed between a dozen pairs of spires—a tiny line of men, dwarfed by the heavens’ creations.

  And then The Watchers assumed the positions that Bryan had instructed.

  Bryan and his Watchers fanned in two directions, twenty in each group. One group positioned themselves to the left of the western spire near the path, creating a horizontal line at a buffer from the stone, while the other stood near the eastern spire, forming a similar pattern.

  Raj and the eleven other horn blowers split into two teams of six, standing thirty feet in front of their respective spires.

  The rest of the marchers divided themselves between Bryan’s teams.

  When they were finished, nearly a hundred men were in place in long, single lines near each of the spires with Bryan’s Watchers. Bryan stood in the left group.

  Raj scanned the desert with a growing unease as he waited. His hands shook on his horn.

  The wind stirred, kicking up the top layer of sand and whistling around the rock spires in front of him. His comrades on either side of him shifted. No one was safe from the monster, but standing where they were now—about to blow their horns—Raj realized the horn blowers’ peril. It felt as if he and his companions were on the other side of a wide, bottomless chasm.

  But this was their important duty.

  That’s what Bryan had told them.

  He looked over at Bryan, waiting for a signal.

  The sun disappeared behind the clouds, turning the sky charcoal grey, dulling the silhouettes of the twin moons and sharpening his fear. Next to him, Eddie looked as if he might soil his shorts. The other four people in their group—two men and two women—waited with wide eyes, their horns quivering.

  Bryan raised a hand.

  As one, the six people in his group put their horns to their lips.

  Raj and his group steadied their breaths.

  Bryan’s hand came down.

  Raj blew with all his might.

  Chapter 9: Samel

  Long, sonorous notes echoed from somewhere outside, filling the Right Cave with their single-pitch song. The crowd at the entrance riled up even more, speaking in frantic tones. Slowly, the sound faded, as the horns dropped off one by one. A forgotten fear struck Samel’s heart.

  His brother was outside.

  Getting to his feet, he started for the crowd.

  “Samel! Where are you going? It’s not safe!” Samara cried after him.

  He didn’t look back, nor did he heed Amos’s cautionary cries. Neena was unconscious, but at least she was breathing.

  No one was looking after Raj.

  Samel ran until he was at the back of the gathering, standing on his toes. Too many bulky bodies blocked his view. Using his small size to his advantage, he scooted wherever he found an opening, weaving past fearful mothers, frightened children, and sweaty men. Eventually he found the open ledge, taking up next to two older boys. The scrawny kids watched the desert with awe, and more than a little fear.

  “What’s happening?” Samel asked them.

  Neither answered.

  He followed their eyes to the desert.

  Far below, in the middle of the hunter’s trail, north of the colony, two long lines of people stood on either side of a pair of spires. A small group of people was tucked into the shadows in front of the enormous structures. He watched the group on the left raise something to their faces. Horns.

  The same, melodious noise filled the air again.

  The people around Samel stared.

  No one could look away, because everyone knew what was coming.

  “They’re calling the monster!” came a whisper.

  Samel’s heart pounded with empathetic fear. He felt as if he were among those in the desert, luring the beast, instead of safe on the ledge. From up so high, he couldn’t tell men from women, and he didn’t see Raj, but he knew his brother must be down there. The marchers stood rigid in the desert. Slowly, the horn notes faded.

  He looked along the rest of the ledge. Even if he were courageous enough to take the path to the cliffs, the people in the other caves would hurt him, like they’d done to Neena and Kai. Frustrated tears fell down his cheeks.

  Holding a hand to his heart, Samel said a silent prayer.

  Maybe Raj would get lucky, and the monster wouldn’t come.

  Maybe the beast was far enough away that it wouldn’t hear, or it had left for some other part of the planet.

  His hope died.

  A few hundred feet past the spires, a seam split the desert, veering toward the waiting people.

  No…

  Chapter 10: Raj

  Raj lowered his horn.

  Silence greeted him.

  And then something happened.

  About fifty feet away, Bryan shifted in the desert, reacting to a growing rumble.

  Two hundred waiting people tensed.

  Panicked murmurs filled the air.

  Raj looked out into the desert.

  What he saw made his knees buckle.

  Two hundred feet away, the sand creased.

  In the time they’d blown their horns, the sun had returned, sh
immering the desert with its heat, revealing the true horror of what they faced.

  The ground caved and fell inward in front of them.

  It felt as if some strange lightning was splitting it open.

  But this was much worse than lightning, and everyone knew it.

  Raj’s heart hammered. His roiling stomach made him feel like he might vomit, or collapse. Instead, he waited, repeating Bryan’s instructions in his head.

  “Stay in place. Do not move until the last moment.”

  It was easy to imagine bravery, when standing in a cave full of others. But it was another to stand in front of horror and face it with two rigid feet.

  The rumble increased to a deafening pitch.

  Raj’s heart and mind shrieked at him to flee—to get far away from the caving sand and retreat—but he couldn’t fail Bryan. They had to keep their courage, until the last bit of time, when they’d…

  “Run!” someone screamed.

  Raj didn’t need to be told twice.

  He and his group turned and dashed over the sand, heading for the rock spire. Raj kept his eyes on the distant stone. He didn’t need stories of heroism to motivate him.

  Move, or die!

  The five horn blowers around him huffed and sweated, stuffing their boots in and out of the sand, racing against certain death. The rumble was loud enough that for a moment, Raj thought he might go deaf, or keel over from fear. Someone’s shoulders grazed his. Someone else shouted something he couldn’t hear. The world became a frantic mess of screaming and panic. Raj kept his eye on the smooth, red stone, praying to the heavens that he made it.

  Twenty feet.

  Fifteen.

  He was almost there.

  He was about to curve around it when something distracted him.

  Raj turned in time to see Eddie stumble and fall.

  Eddie’s horn flew from his fingers as he landed hard, turning over and over, coming to rest ten feet behind the others. He regained his footing, but panicked, and ran toward the line of Watchers instead of the spire.

  “Eddie!” Raj cried.

  If Eddie kept going that way, he’d ruin the plan. Not only that, he’d die. He was moving in the wrong direction.

  Defying his good sense—just for a moment—Raj stopped and took a single step back, calling his name.

  The sand exploded.

  Raj hurtled through the air, his arms and legs flailing. His face stung from the blinding, pelting sand. The world turned black and chaotic.

  A last agony hit him, so hard and so fast that he couldn’t help his cry.

  He’d made a mistake, and now he and Eddie would die together.

  Chapter 11: Bryan

  “Fall back!” Bryan yelled.

  Instead of emerging and leaping toward the rock spire, the creature diverted, following the path of the dim-witted horn blower and erupting from underneath the surface in another direction.

  Now it was rising over the line.

  Dammit!

  The monster’s rising body blocked out the sun, casting a long, ominous shadow. Blood and bile spewed from something it chewed. Its protrusions unfolded from its side, piercing the air, promising death to all who came near. If they didn’t flee, dozens of people would be crushed or impaled.

  “This way!” Bryan shouted over the beast’s primordial sounds, hoping someone might hear him.

  A few foolhardy men took aim, throwing their spears even though the plan was fouled, but too many people veered farther west into the desert, descending into chaos.

  Their agonizing cries were cut short as the beast landed, driving them into the ground.

  Shouting at the hundred or so in his group, trying to reorganize, Bryan said, “Get to the spire! Follow me!”

  The screams of the injured echoed through the air, but there was nothing anyone could do for them at the moment. He and the survivors fled in the direction of the spire, hoping to put it between themselves and the monster, and he clenched his powerful weapon, running.

  The beast soared in and out of the ground again, prompting a chorus of new screams, catching the slowest runners.

  Sand sprayed Bryan’s back. An ear-splitting boom rang out behind him. Sucking in a winded breath, he looked over his shoulder, in time to see another caving hole. A hopeless feeling shook his boots and his heart.

  Still, he didn’t quit.

  He ran, heaving, until he and the other survivors of the western line reached the back of the spire—the only point of relative safety.

  A few dozen people stood around him, stock-still.

  Looking across the desert, he surveyed the eastern horn blowers and Watchers, who hadn’t moved. Panic gripped them.

  Letting one hand off the weapon, he cupped his mouth and shouted, “Blow your horns!”

  The scared people did nothing. They were terrified, and the sight of so many crushed, or eaten, froze them.

  “Do it!” he insisted.

  Putting their fear into their lips, the second group finally obeyed, blowing long and hard. A rising tide of sand lifted near the beast’s last hole as it changed direction, heading southeast and toward them.

  The second line of spear-throwers readied themselves, moving north to compensate for the beast’s incoming angle. The horn blowers adjusted, too.

  From his new position—out of range—Bryan watched the beast break the surface and soar into the air. Its massive, circular body reminded him of some of the cave grubs, only on a grander scale. In a strange, abstract way, the beast was majestic.

  But it needed to die.

  The horn blowers blew their note again, waiting for the moment to run.

  The creature reached its peak height, arcing over the horn blowers, who took the cue and fled.

  Its angle changed.

  Changed?

  No!

  The beast’s body twisted and convulsed; its scales shifted. Instead of crashing directly into the rock, it grazed the side of it, creating a small avalanche of rock. The horn blowers had dispersed too late. The monster slammed back into the ground, taking four with it.

  A few of The Watchers in the eastern group chased behind, hurling their spears at its back, but they plunked uselessly off its scales.

  Two surviving horn blowers screamed, running across the desert in the direction of the cliffs.

  The beast followed underground.

  Bryan looked at his decimated followers, and those fleeing toward the eastern formation. The second diversion had failed.

  The strategy was lost.

  Worse, the horn blowers had blocked off their retreat.

  Finding Louie’s face among the survivors, he traded a panicked look. They could stay, reform, and cobble together a plan. Or they could accept a temporary loss.

  “What are we doing?” Louie yelled.

  Bryan looked at the horn blowers and the monster, and then over his shoulder.

  Motioning toward the survivors in his group, and those farther away, he shouted, “Grab whom you can among the injured and follow me to the colony!”

  Together, they fled.

  Chapter 12: Samel

  Hands tugged Samel back from his new perch on the ledge, leading him back toward the Right Cave.

  “We have to get back inside, Samel!”

  Samel resisted Samara’s pulling.

  All around him, people stared anxiously at the scene below. The area near the spires had turned to chaos. Bodies lay everywhere. Holes filled the desert around the spires, marring the landscape like enormous, monstrous eye sockets.

  Addressing the crowd, Samara said, “It’s too dangerous to be out here! Everyone get back inside!”

  She raised a hand, pointing to the mouths of the other caves, where their enemies still lingered, watching. Slowly, the crowd headed inside.

  But not Samel.

  He couldn’t move.

  He was riveted.

  Choking on his tears, he raised a shaky finger.

  “Raj is still out there!” he cried.
“He might be hurt, or...or…”

  “I know, Sam!” she said. “But it’s too dangerous to get to him right now!”

  The last of the people bumped Samel’s shoulders, while heading for the relative safety of the cave.

  Samel dug his heels in the ground, ignoring Samara’s pulling hands. “We can’t leave him!” he protested. “He’ll die out there! He needs our help!”

  Samara looked over the ledge. Her face formed an expression he had seen too many times. It was the same face people wore at the processions, after a loved one had been buried. “We can’t do anything now, but we will, Sam, later. I promise.”

  Samel fought for several moments, but finally, he let Samara guide him, tears flowing down his face. The sight of those people lined up in the desert gave him a cold, dark feeling he remembered from the first day of the monster’s attack. He’d been terrified. But that day, he’d had his brother with him, and now Raj was out in the desert with the awful beast.

  Samel couldn’t allow himself to think of his brother’s death. He hardly felt his legs moving, or Samara’s tight grip on his arm as she led him inside. He felt numb, as if someone had dipped him in the river before the first rays of morning sunshine.

  In front of them, men, women, and children bustled deeper into the cave, looking over their shoulders with fright. Samara stopped at the cave entrance, calling out instructions.

  To Salvador and Roberto, she said, “Get as many guards at the front and rear entrances as you can! The rest of you keep in the middle with the children, away from the tunnel’s ends!”

  Salvador and Roberto obeyed, shoring up men or women, who guarded the entrance and the rear of the cave, clutching their spears and knives. The rest hung in the cave’s middle, speaking worriedly. Samel caught the eyes of a younger child, who peered out from behind his mother. Too many kids didn’t know what was happening, and that translated to panic. Fear’s grasp was contagious.

  Smearing fresh tears away, he looked up at Samara.

  “Where’s Neena?” he asked.

  “We moved her and Kai to a safe spot by the wall.”

  “Is she okay?”