Page 17 of Sheltering Instinct

In all her time putting the dots together in the field, nothing like this had ever happened. Their previous guides were systematic, with a protocol that was rigorously followed and an understanding that the health and welfare of their clients rested on their shoulders.

With Otto? Not so much.

The look Gwen sent her told Tess that her friend had come to the same conclusion. They were with an ego. A blusterer. A self-aggrandizer. Someone who might make a show of skill and yet—forget water on an excursion to the desert with the level of physical effort required of Big Daddy. It was unconscionable and dangerous.

Well, it was only a short time, and they’d be near the ranger station.

As soon as the doors unlocked, Tess piled into her place at the front and encouraged the others to be quick about it. “We should hurry,” she cajoled. “The sand is heating up.”

The blank faces that met her comment told Tess that these tourists didn’t know what they didn’t know. Driving on hot sand was dangerous.

Tess and Gwen were both in their early forties. Not quite old enough to be these people’s mothers, but it sure felt like the group needed some parental guidance.

Pulling on her seat belt, Tess felt apprehension slide down her spine. She understood what the heated sand meant.

They’d set off that morning in the chill of a still-darkened sky. They aimed to get to a particular spot to catch the sunrise.

The dunes in this area were unique in that they were comprised of sand with a high concentration of iron oxide. With time, the oxides rusted, turning the Namibian dunes a bright copper.

As the sun rose, it shone on the side of the dune, illuminating it in a vibrant orange. On the shadow side of the dune, the sand looked black in contrast.

The stark opposition and the crispness of the demarcation line between orange and black seemed hyper-pigmented against the bright azure of the cloudless Namibian sky.

It was a stunning visual.

It was absolutely one of the most gasp-worthy natural sights Tess had ever seen.

Driving on, they had entered the park. It had been a bouncing and bobbing ride as they wended their way over the roadless wilderness to get to the parking area.

Tess had felt bad for those in the very back row as they flew up and banged their heads.

But this morning, with the cool temperatures, the grains of sand were tightly packed, sticking together with friction. Now that they were moving into the high heat of the day, those same sand grains would expand, losing what little moisture they’d had. Now, the friction from the wheels would force the grains of sand apart, putting them at risk of getting sand bogged.

And the group had no water.

Water was the second thing in the hierarchy of survivability, right after air.

Too little water could mean heat stroke, which could be deadly unless quickly reversed. Tess had been at other scenes of crisis where there was too much water that was the threat.

No worries about the latter. Not out here.

The sooner they got to the ranger station, the sooner Tess could relax her guard.

They climbed into the vehicle with little energy, found their places, and pulled on their belts. Everyone was already fatigued and dehydrated to the point that they weren’t talking much.

Otto backed out of their place, and the bumping and jumping began in earnest as they made their way to the front of the park. Tess had decided to raise the water issue as soon as she saw the wooden entrance gate. But she and Otto were like sandpaper rubbing against each other. He might be able to pull off his ‘bushcraft master’ guise for the others, but Tess and Gwen had spent too much time with special forces operators and people with real skillsets to be fooled.

Otto knew they knew.

But Tess would be damned if she’d hold her tongue and put everyone in danger.

Those were the thoughts running through her mind when the back wheels started to spin, and the vehicle began to tip upward in the front.

“Everyone out,” Otto ordered.

Tess and Gwen got out and moved toward one of the small scrub trees that provided a bit of shade and a patch of packed dirt instead of the sandbox around them. By habit, both women lifted their knees and stomped to warn any critters in the area that they were there. From the relative shade, they watched as Otto let the air out of each tire to gain surface. Okay, that was a good start.

“I’m not particularly comfortable with this scenario,” Gwen said under her breath.

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