In the Eye of the Storm (Storm and Silence 2)
‘You remember the conditions, don’t you? I haven’t gotten a day off since we started on this accursed trip!’
Reaching up, he pulled the misused headscarf off his eyes, but still left it over his mouth and nose. Leaning towards me until our faces were only inches apart, he narrowed his eyes a fraction. ‘Well, then I have good news for you.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘Oh yes, indeed.’ He swept his arm around, gesturing at the raging tempest around us. ‘I give you the rest of the day off.’
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‘Thanks so much, Sir! I’m going to the nearest café right away to enjoy a nice cup of tea and a piece of apple pie!’
‘You’re welcome! And don’t forget-’
His voice was cut off by a bellow of storm wind and I felt a blast of sand hit me, almost hurling me towards him. Clutching at the straps of the camel’s saddlebags, I caught myself just in time. Another blast of sand hit me almost immediately. Wide-eyed, I looked up. Something was happening!
Around us, the roaring had continued all the time without ceasing or abating once. But now… now, something altogether different was starting. All through the storm so far, directions had been swallowed, as had the landscape and any living being. But at least there had still been a sense of light, of existence, somewhere in the chaos.
Now, though, the dark brown haze around us began to darken further. The gale raged with renewed force, and I bit my lower lip to supress a cry of pain as the sand battered against my thobe, stinging even through the thick material. Wet cloth or no, it was becoming more and more difficult to breathe.
On the edge of my vision, things were going dark. Dimly, I wondered what was happening. Was I dying? Here, in this lonely desert, my only company a man who was as cold and hard as a block of ice?
No, that’s not true. You’ve also got the camel!
Right! I was so lucky.
Are you sure you’re dying? Because it looks as if things aren’t just going dark at the edges of your vision. They’re going dark everywhere.
Looking up, I sucked in a startled breath. Or at least I tried to. What I actually sucked in was a startled wagonload of desert dust.
‘What in God’s name…!’ My voice was hardly audible in my own ears. The roar of the storm had reached new heights, battering my eardrums with primeval force. ‘What is going on?’
Above us, the sky, or what passed for the sky in a sunless world of swirling sands, was growing dark. And I don’t mean just dark brown. I mean dark. Dark like a night without stars and with shutters nailed over all the windows. Dark like a cup of Spanish roast coffee. Dark like the colour black before God thought it might be a nice idea to let there be light.
‘Holy Moses and macaroons!’
From beside me, I heard Mr Ambrose make an indistinct noise. For once, he was not complaining about my language.
‘What is happening?’
How he managed to hear me over the din, I didn’t know. I certainly didn’t catch a single one of my own words. The storm was raging like ten thousand mad dragons.
‘The sun is dying,’ he rasped.
‘What?’
‘Look.’ Raising his hand, he stretched it out towards where the darkness was thickest. After only a few moments, his fingers were swallowed by the storm. Despite the heat, a cold shiver ran down by back.
‘This… this can’t happen! A storm can’t block out the sun like that! It would have to be…’
‘Several miles high.’
‘No! No, that can’t happen! It simply can’t!’ Panic rising inside me, I looked around. Things were quickly disappearing. Ambrose’s head was already being eaten up by shadows. A moment more, and we would have a headless camel. And then… What then? ‘No! This can’t happen!’
‘Apparently, it can.’
With horror, I watched the last vestiges of light drain away. I watched as my ability to watch was stolen. The roar of the storm reached new heights, ringing like the laughter of the devil himself, spitting hot sand and darkness in our faces. The wind tore at us with malicious force, tugging so hard it threatened to rip me off the ground and away into the blackness.
‘Bloody hell! No!’