Page 2 of Tharn's Hunt
I glance around, my eyes darting between the rocks and the endless waves of sand. She wouldn’t just drop it for no reason. Not Justine.
“She’s smarter than this,” I whisper to myself. “She wouldn’t just… leave.”
Panic creeps in, threading along my spine, but I shove it down. Focus, Jacqui.Think. What would Justine do? If she had to leave, she’d leave… something. A sign. A clue.
I force myself to stand, tucking the earring into my bra for safekeeping. The movement makes my head swim, and for a second, I think I might pass out right here in the sand. But no. Not yet. I’ve been fighting this heatstroke, dizziness, and occasional weird dreams thing for weeks now. What’s a few more hours?
I stumble around the rocks, one hand bracing against the striated stone to keep myself upright, and scan the ground again, looking for anything out of place. A shoe. A water sachet. Maybe a middle finger carved into the stone.
That’s when I see it.
Etched into a flat stretch like a Post-it note.
“BRB,” I read aloud. My laugh comes out as a choked wheeze, part relief, part pure disbelief. Only Justine would casually leave a “be right back” note in the middle of an alien desert. Like she just stepped out for coffee or something. “An arrow. Just an arrow, Jus? Couldn’t spring for a map, huh? Lucky for you, I love your stupid face.”
Still, it’s enough. A direction. A sign she was thinking clearly, at least when she left it.
I squint into the distance, shielding my eyes from the last rays of sunlight. Far ahead through the heat haze, I can just barely make out another rock formation. That must be where she went.
The muscles in my legs burn at the thought of walking any further, but I don’t care. I’ll crawl if I have to.
But not tonight.
The desert’s already growing darker, the sun sinking below the horizon to leave behind a sky streaked with orange and purple. Soon, it’ll be pitch black, and traveling at night without alight source is just another way to add “fall into a hole and die” to my catalog of desert deaths.
I stagger back to the shade of the rocks, my legs giving out beneath me. My body hits the ground with a thud. The stars overhead blur as exhaustion pulls me under. “Tomorrow,” I whisper, clutching the earring to my chest. “I’ll follow her trail tomorrow.”
It was a good plan. A sensible, human plan. It never occurred to me that on this planet, the things that hunt don't need light to see.
Chapter 2
IS IT TOO LATE TO CALL FOR BACKUP?
JACQUI
My eyes snap open at a sound.
Justine?
No…no…not Justine.
A dry, clicking sound slices through the night. It’s not the wind. It’s not a rockslide. It's rhythmic. Chitinous.
I freeze, every muscle screaming in protest as I push myself up into a crouch. My heart hammers against my ribs as I clutch the jagged piece of metal Mikaela had ripped from the bus for me, her words echoing in my head:"This is a suicide mission, Jacqui."
For a few long moments, nothing happens. No sound. No movement. Then, ahead, a flicker of movement in the pitch-black. A shape detaches itself from the deeper shadows. I squint, but there’s barely enough light to see my own hand. Two greenish-yellow pinpricks of light blink open, like a cat’s eyes catching a flashlight beam. Then they’re gone.
I imagined it.My brain is fried. In all our time here, we’ve seen nothing. It's all just sand and rock.
But then the clicking sound returns, closer now. And not from one source. There are multiple. Like echoes on stone.
Oh.
Oh shit.
Run.
My legs move before my brain catches up, powered by sheer panic and whatever scraps of energy I have left. My pack slams against my hip as I stumble forward, nearly tripping over my own feet. The screech that follows freezes my blood. It’s a dry, bone-deep sound that vibrates through my ribs, like metal scraping against raw nerve endings.
