Page 37 of Cherished By the Alien Outlaw

A pull of the knife strap, a secure sheathing later, and my hand was free to take her pack. As much as I longed for more weapons, more ways to protect her, we had nothing but what we carried. It would have to do.

The wind swirled around us, sending tiny grains of sand skittering across the landscape and abrading our exposed skin. If only they’d kept clothing in the closet back in the processing area. I wanted a shirt or anything I could use to cover Talia’s face that was already burned scarlet from the sun.

As we started down the hill, I scanned for anything that could serve as cover, but the desert stretched out bland and endless in every direction. I had to resist the urge to run blindly. Running wouldn’t save us. Strategy would.

A faint sound tugged at the edges of my ears, barely discernible through the rustling, buffeting wind. I strained to listen, my heart pounding too loud in my ears, but then it came again, distant shuffles that jarred across my bones. They were after us. I didn't dare tell Talia, not when the thought of them closing in nearly paralyzed me.

I tugged on her hand, guiding her in a slight detour to the right. Our pursuers wouldn’t know which direction we’d taken, and the wind was sweeping away our footsteps almost as quickly as we left them. If we were lucky, they wouldn’t give the search party more than a few males. But luck was a fragile thing in the desert.

It was hot out here. The sand would drag on them as much as it did on us. They’d hate having to come after us. They might quickly give up, go back, and tell those in control that they couldn’t find us.

Talia shot me a steely look that held as much determination as fear.

We kept going, and the sounds of pursuit faded again.

By the time we stopped to catch our breath again, this time in the hollow between two hills, the sun had crept low in the sky. Shadows from sparse vegetation dragged themselves across the landscape.

The Veerenad city lay somewhere to the north, but heading south would take us to my people. Staying alive long enough to reach them was our first priority. It would take days, and we didn’t have enough supplies for a journey that long in this heat.

The horizon stretched forever, an unbroken line of sand dunes and desolation under the blazing sun. Talia's steps faltered, her weariness showing in the droop of her shoulders and the way she sucked in a breath and let it ease out, as if it took almost too much effort to pull the next in. I hated seeing her so tired, but there wasn’t anything I could do but give her encouragement and hold onto her pack. I’d carry her if I thought I could keep going much longer myself, but I worried I’d soon drop if I did something like that. The sand would blow over us, covering us, and we’d never be seen again.

We’d been walking for hours, each step a battle against the sand that tugged us back. This place was showing us no mercy.

How could my fellow Zuldruxians make their home here? I couldn’t understand, and perhaps, I never would. They might find my clan’s way of living on an island floating above the sea just as surprising.

I was about to suggest we settle for a rest in the shade of the next hill when something caught my eye out in the distance. A faint shimmer. A trick of light, or maybe . . . I shielded my face and squinted. An oasis? My pulse quickened, and hope soared through my veins. I wouldn’t mention it to Talia, not until I was sure. I didn’t want to share that fragile bit of hope only to see it flounder when I realized it was only a mirage.

Talia must’ve caught on that something was exciting me, and she sent a look of fear my way.

“I don’t hear any sign of them, do you?” I croaked, my voice drier than the world around us. When had we lasttaken water? And when had we stopped sweating—a bad sign in the desert.

She shook her head.

We stopped and sat in the sparse shade cast by a thorny shrub that towered above us at least two times the height of a Zuldruxian male. I pulled out the nearly empty flask from her pack. “Drink.”

While she did, I grabbed another, noting there was only one left in her pack. I was carrying four, but we were woefully short on supplies for a trek like this. We could go longer without food, though that would take its toll on us too. But without frequent water, we’d die soon.

After she’d emptied the flask, I returned it to her pack and had her drink half of the next, finishing it off myself once she was through.

We chewed on dried meat that could do with some spices, but I wasn’t complaining.

Somewhat renewed, we kept walking, placing one foot in front of the other.

Whatever I’d seen remained far in the distance, but the image hadn’t wavered. It could be an oasis; I felt more certain of it by the minute.

I kept my eyes on that distant glint, and my stride lengthened. Talia stumbled before falling back into step with me, which made me tighten my steps. I paced myself to her and noted how she lagged. The sweltering air around us seemed to close in on every side, the dunes mocking our progress with their endless rise and fall.

“We’re almost there,” I said, gripping her hand tightin mine, trying to send her as much warmth and encouragement as I could. “You can do it.”

Her eyes met mine with a weariness that shredded my heart, but when she saw the fierce light of determination in my gaze, she nodded and pushed forward. Sand shifted underfoot as we moved, and the dull thud of my pulse echoed in my ears.

The shimmer grew more defined the closer we got to it. It wasn’t a trick of the light or my mind.

It was real, and we’d make it to this place together.

When she staggered, I swept her up in my arms and held her against my chest. She was tired enough not to protest my carrying her. Her head drooped against my chest, and she sighed, her eyes sliding closed.

I crested another dune, and there it was, a gleaming, wondrous thing in front of us.

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