Sahara Crosswind Read Free

numerous trips with Omar to check on the animals. The tribe’s children spent most of their waking time there, filling the odoriferous tent with their delighted laughter. The newborn lambs were little bundles of black and white fluff. The animals frisked about, bleating their high-pitched cries, jumping and spinning in midair. Jake watched the children as much as he did the animals, marveling at how contented they were with the simplest of entertainments. They rarely cried or fought or whined, despite a life that was harsh by any measure. And here they were, cooped up in a tent with over a hundred milling animals, not a toy or a book between them, utterly content.
    Jake found himself thinking that he, too, could be content in this sand-bounded desert world if only Sally were here with him. But the pain of missing her, which had dulled to an inner ache during the course of rescuing Patrique, now throbbed into anguish during the long hours of waiting.
    When he dozed, he could see her clearly. Sally tall and lithe, cool and confident behind her desk in Badenburg. Sally strong and tender, kneeling to comfort one of the impoverished orphans the war had left scattered in its wake. Sallybeautiful in the candlelight, her auburn hair gleaming. Sally sad but determined, telling him about her orders. Telling him goodbye.
    And then he would wake to the reality of sand and wind and children and animals and Sally would be gone once more.
    ----
    It was around noon of the third day that disaster struck.
    By then, Jake had almost grown accustomed to the wind’s continual growl. He was caked from head to foot with grit, and his hair felt like a used paintbrush that had been left to dry in the sun. But he watched the others and saw how they ignored what they could not alter, and he resolved to try and do the same. By the third day, the dry crunchy feeling of his skin seemed almost as natural as the thundering gusts that shook their tent from time to time.
    The change came without warning. Jake sat cross-legged in what had come to be his corner, trying to concentrate as two men laid out a complicated game of rocks and shells on a board design drawn in the sand. He nodded as though he understood as they pointed at each rock or shell in turn, then gave lengthy explanations. Clearly they had decided that his lack of Arabic could be overcome by shouting, because their explanations were as gentle as artillery barrages. Jake found the game totally incomprehensible, but since they were tugging at his sleeve with one hand and fondling their daggers with the other, he tried to pay attention. He felt like his mask of wide-eyed interest had become glued in place.
    Suddenly the wind’s pitch rose to a horrendous shriek. The flickering lamps shook as the tent’s guide ropes threatened to give. A terrific blast fought its way through the double flaps over the portal, blew out all the lamps, lifted up a great fistful of coals from the central fire, and flung them haphazardly about the room.
    The tent went berserk.
    Screams and shrieks competed against the wind’s overpowering noise. The cramped space was instantly filled withjumping, whirling bodies, tumbling onto one another, tripping and falling onto yet more coals. Jake struggled out from under one writhing body, only to see the robe of a man next to him shoot up in flames. He tackled the man, tore up a carpet, and flung it together with his own body over the flames. Only when the fire was out and he raised to his knees did he realize the man he had saved was Omar.
    Before the tribal chieftain could speak, another blast of wind split the night. In its midst came another sound, an explosive ripping followed by animal screams. Omar’s eyes opened wide in the dim light and he shouted words Jake did not need to understand. The animals’ tent had collapsed.
    Somehow he managed to struggle across the mass of teeming bodies behind Omar and push himself through the tent’s portals.