Chapter 5 - The Flight to the Red Sands
We escaped the island on a high-speed boat,
the spray of the ocean cold and biting against my skin.
Khalid was silent,
his jaw set in a hard line as he navigated the waves.
"Where are we going?"
I shouted over the roar of the engine.
"To the source,"
he replied,
"to the desert where it all began."
We reached a small fishing village in North Africa by dawn,
where a dusty jeep was waiting for us.
The landscape changed from blue to gold,
as we drove deeper into the Sahara.
The heat was a physical weight,
pressing down on us as the sun rose higher.
I looked at my notebook,
trying to piece together the fragments of the map.
"We are looking for the 'Eye of the Wind',"
I said,
reading my grandfather’s scribbled notes.
Khalid nodded,
wiping sweat from his brow.
"The locals call it the Singing Dunes,"
he said,
"because the wind makes a sound like voices when it passes through."
"It’s not the wind,"
I corrected him,
"it’s the structure of the ruins beneath the sand."
"They are vibrating,"
I added,
"waiting for the right word to wake them up."
As we drove,
I noticed a black speck in the rearview mirror.
It was a helicopter,
trailing us from a distance.
"They aren't giving up,"
I said,
my voice trembling.
Khalid pushed the accelerator,
the jeep bouncing over the dunes.
"We have to reach the canyon before the sun sets,"
he said,
his eyes fixed on the horizon.
"If we are caught in the open,"
he warned,
"we are dead."
The helicopter moved closer,
the sound of its rotors drowning out the wind.
Suddenly,
the ground beneath us began to shift.
The sand wasn't just moving,
it was flowing like water.
"Stop the car!"
I screamed.
Khalid slammed on the brakes,
and the jeep skidded to a halt at the edge of a massive sinkhole.
Below us,
partially buried in the sand,
was the top of a giant stone archway.
It was covered in the same script from the restaurant.
"We're here,"
Khalid whispered,
his eyes wide with awe.
But the helicopter was now hovering directly above us,
and a rope was being lowered.
Men in black were sliding down,
their weapons pointed at our chests.
I looked at the archway,
then at the soldiers.
I knew what I had to do.
I stepped out of the car and walked toward the edge of the pit.
"Don't!"
Khalid yelled,
reaching for me.
I didn't listen,
I opened my mouth and let out a long,
low note,
the sound my grandfather had taught me to use when I was afraid.
The sand began to swirl,
a massive dust storm rising from nowhere.
The helicopter was tossed around like a toy,
and the soldiers were forced back.
I spoke the hidden word,
the one from the restaurant,
but this time,
I shouted it.
The stone archway groaned,
and the earth opened up,
swallowing the jeep,
May you like
the soldiers,
and me.
