The red-orange dust seems to be easier to deal with now that we’re going with the flow rather than against it. It allows at least a modicum of visibility which allows me to notice every time Draven looks back, his fangs practically dripping with drool.
“Stop looking at Eileen like you want to take a bite out of her. The milk she’ll provide to everyone is more than enough reason to keep her alive. Not to mention the benefits for Sokko. Plus, if we go back for a male rogcow, we can keep breeding them for a herd. Maybe that Oz guy can make a pen for them. I was good at taking care of cows back home when I was younger. Eventually, we may not even have to hunt for them. We can raise some for breeding and milk and some for meat.”
“You mean to keep the animals in cages?” Draven asks.
“Well, no. I mean sort of. What you do is build a large pen, so they can walk around and eat. Hmm. There isn’t much green space like there was on the other side of the crevasse. We’ll have to talk to the others about the best way to do it. Maybe we can build the pen in that grassy area and go back and forth.”
Roooooooonk, Eileen bellows as though she agrees with me.
“Plus, if we do that, it’ll give us another opportunity to stay in the caves by the lake. Maybe I’ll even convince you to let me go swimming.”
I don’t have to see his face to know he’s frowning. For being badass vampire aliens, these morts sure are afraid of anything they don’t know or understand. I guess losing everyone you love will make you hesitant of new experiences. I can certainly relate to that.
“We’ll do no such thing until it’s been thoroughly tested,” Draven says.
I roll my eyes at his back. He’d said the same thing the second night we stayed in the cavern with Eileen on our way back through the crevasse. As we tromp through the dusty, windy path, I wish I had convinced him to let me take a little dip. A swim in the gorgeous, clear turquoise water sounds heavenly at this point.
If we weren’t on such a time squeeze getting Eileen here back to Sokko, I would have convinced Draven to stay another day or two to explore. As it is, we’re moving at nearly double the speed, the fastest Eileen will allow, down the tunnel toward the facility. Thankfully, it’s much easier to travel with the forceful wind at our backs. Even with Eileen, we make good time.
By early afternoon, we emerge from Gunteer Channel at the base of the Phyxer Mountains. The last time we’d traveled, it had taken the better part of a day, but I know we’re quickly running out of time. If we hurry, we should make it by full dark. The vast desert stretches out in front of us, seemingly endless, but we have a life to save, and though I couldn’t protect my own child, I will protect Sokko. It’s with the thought of my sweet Willow cradled in my mind that I tug Eileen’s chain and follow Draven out of the mountains and across the desert.
We travel for many hours. Soon, I forget what it’s like to not be moving forward. Eileen ambles alongside me as though she doesn’t have a care in the world. Her loud bellows are lost in the rumbles from the ever-present geostorm clouds and constant thunder.
Thunder that seems to grow louder with each step.
Great. The last thing we need is to be caught in the middle of a storm.
“Are we going to get caught in that?” I ask Draven over the rumble.
“No, my mate. We will be safe inside the facility before any storms hit as long as we keep going.”
The thunder roars.
“Draven? Are you sure?”
A loud mechanical shriek roars over his answer.
“Draven?”
The thunder sounds closer. Like it’s right on top of us. Eileen roooooonks loudly, and instinct has me whirling around.
A large vehicle is almost right on top of us. I shriek and throw myself on top of Eileen who bellows in protest. Draven whirls around at the last second and, spotting the vehicle, lunges to the side to avoid being run over.
The vehicle rocks to a stop. Draven crab-crawls across the stony earth to my side. Eileen tugs at the lead, but I keep my hand tight around the rope.
“Draven? Who is that? Is it one of the other morts?”
But Draven doesn’t answer. He’s already on his feet with his zonnoblaster at the ready, pointed at the driver’s side door. “Open up, and show yourself.”
The door creaks open, and something flies out in our direction. A second later, it explodes. A grenade or a bomb? Oh my God!