A/N: Lots of changes to this chapter, too! The original had a word count of 810 -_- Thank you for reading!

Chapter word count: 2253

Chapter 2

Fire and Water

When I woke up, it was still the middle of the night and I had a feeling that something was wrong.

It took me a few minutes to figure out what it was, nearly falling out of the top bunk as I tried to wake myself up. It took a few splashes of water on my face before I was awake enough to really process the sounds I was hearing. Screaming. There were people screaming outside, and I could hear faint gunshots.

I was alert immediately, putting on my boots and digging through my father's bag for ammunition. I threw the ammunition, and my sketchbook and pencil, into my own bag and threw it over my shoulder.

Stop. Think. Think about what you're doing before you do it. The only way on or off the ship was from the main deck, so that's where everyone would be. I needed to get to Dad; he would wait until I came to him. The ship wasn't listing, so it wasn't sinking. That left someone attacking or fire as the most likely cause for the screaming. The gunshots could mean either, but most likely meant the boat was being attacked. I could deal with either as it came.

I yanked open the door and realized I was going to have to deal with both. The fire wasn't anywhere near me, but the deck was full of smoke. I pulled my bandanna out of my bag and tied it so that my nose and mouth were covered. I couldn't exactly crawl my way to Dad, so that was the only option to make sure I didn't inhale too much smoke.

I ran for it, and it was a bad idea. I'd gotten reasonably far when I slipped on something wet and fell hard. I heard a terrified neigh, and curled up just in time to avoid being trampled by one of the horses, loose and running along the deck. I got up and kept going. The side of my body that I'd fallen on hurt a lot: I wasn't sure yet if it would bruise or not. I shook my head; now was not the time to be worrying about it.

The smoke was getting thicker, and it hurt my eyes, but I had to keep going. Turning back and going around the other side of the boat would take far too long, and I didn't even know if that way was completely clear. I was almost there, anyway. Almost there. I didn't know what I'd do if they weren't at the bar. It didn't occur to me before I'd started that they might not be: usually where there was a bar, there my father and uncles would be found. But what if… what if…

I didn't need to worry. A few moments later I could hear their yells. Excited yells, whooping. They were having fun. I could hear their guns going off, which explained the excitement.

I put my hands up: they could get trigger-happy and I didn't want to just run towards them. I kept walking and after only a moment I could see the flipped tables by the railing, and then the four of them, Dr. Chamberlain included, hiding behind. Well, only Dr. Chamberlain was really hiding.

Dad saw me almost instantly: "Sarah!"

I ran towards him, flinging myself into his arms. I pulled my bandanna down and coughed to clear my lungs.

He checked my face, my head, to make sure I wasn't bleeding:

"Did you get hurt?"

"There was something wet on the deck and I slipped and fell. My side's tender."

"Where were you?"

"I was asleep. I woke up when I started hearing gunshots."

"You came all the way from the cabin?!"

I nodded. He hugged me tightly, and kissed my forehead.

"Good girl. Get behind me!"

It was easier to calm down, even with the gunshots. I was used to this, I usually went with them when they went hunting. Dr. Chamberlain was clearly uncomfortable, which made me want to giggle, though I held it in. He just looked so scandalized that it was hilarious.

After a few moments I realized that the fire was getting worse, spreading more and more. What had only been a few licks of flame coming up from the hold was turning into more of a problem on the rails, and the smoke was getting thicker. I tugged on Dad's shirt.

"I know, Sarah," he laughed. He was in his element: shooting was the most common pastime back home, and despite how much he drank he was still a good enough shot to impress and terrify most of the boys in town. "We're fine for now."

We were about to not be fine if we stayed any longer, but I knew better than to backtalk.

A man in a white suit appeared from around the corner, where I had come from, going immediately for the railing before stopping to stare. I had seen him before: he'd sat down to play cards and drink with Dad, Uncle Mark, and Uncle Andrew just before I'd left.

He grumbled a bit, but cut himself off as one of the invaders ran out of the cabin towards him, literally on fire. His robes were engulfed in flames and he looked like a fire monster out of a fantasy book, his face stony as he walked toward the man in white. He looked like he couldn't feel any pain, but I could see the burns, see the robes becoming part of his skin, but he just kept walking!

I screamed and hid my face in the back of Dad's shirt, and I felt Uncle Mark shift before he started shooting. I looked back up when I heard a loud ripping sound: the man on fire was falling off the boat, ripping the canvas that blocked an opening in the rail and taking it with him.

I wanted to leave, wanted to be off the boat. I'd take a chance with any hippo or crocodile over being burned alive.

There was a loud snapping sound, a sound that loud could only be part of the boat's main structure giving way under the heat, and a burst of flame burst out from the open cabin door.

I screamed again, but Dad was hauling me up and to the open side, and I took a deep breath even though my heart was in my throat as we fell over the side. It seemed like we would never hit the water, like we'd fall until a breeze caught my skirt and blew us to the riverbank.

We did hit the water, though… but I was still moving down. Down, down, down, and the river was too dark to see anything. I couldn't feel Dad's hand, and I panicked. My skirt was heavy, my boots were heavy, and I had heavy ammunition in my bag. It was pulling me down further and further, and even when I kicked and thrashed upward it seemed to only be keeping me from being pulled further down, rather than propelling me up. It seemed like I would never reach the surface.

Something grabbed my hair and yanked hard, and a moment later I felt a hand on my arm pulling me up. Finally, finally, I broke the surface. I could feel tears running down my cheeks as I inhaled.

"Sarah! Sarah!" Uncle Andrew was the one holding me, "it's okay, it's- David, take her!"

Dad swam with one arm around me, and I couldn't stop crying, even when we reached a point where he could stand. He picked me up, hugging me tightly.

"Sarah, you're okay. It was scary, it was very scary, but you're safe now. You're very brave, and everybody's okay. You're okay, I'm okay, Uncle Mark and Uncle Andrew are okay. Everyone's safe."

He talked like that until we reached a point where I could stand with water no higher than my waist. It was more chaotic here, the hired diggers were running around trying to catch their horses. Uncle Mark went to go help with a few of them, the horses were frightened and it was only because of the amount of people on hand to help that they were able to be caught. I stayed close to Dad as we walked further up to dry ground. I was still shaking, and my whole face felt tingly, but now that I was able to walk, it was much easier to calm down.

"This is a messed up country," Dad grumbled, before we made it to dry ground.

We didn't get going for several hours. There were horses to find and calm, equipment to reorganize, and we had to figure out where we could buy supplies that had been lost. And Beni had, apparently, gotten us on the wrong side of the river; I thought Dad might turn purple from yelling at him. The man saved his job, and stopped a potential fist-fight (which, judging by how small Beni was and how many fights I had seen Dad get into, would have been a beating more than a proper fight) by quickly mentioning that he knew of a place where we could cross the river safely, and resupply at the same time.

The place Beni knew was a few hours ride, fortunately up-river, which was the way we'd been going, so we didn't have to backtrack. The sun was fully over the horizon when we got there, but just barely, and already the desert was swelteringly hot. Dad had to take his jacket off and put it over me, since I'd lost my hat with the riverboat. I leaned back against him, for once happy to be riding in front of him rather than on a horse by myself, and while it was no less hot under the jacket, at least the sun wasn't beating down on my face and head, and so the heat was easier to handle.

When we got there, the trading post, of sorts, was an underwhelming, but welcome, sight. It was only a few tents, with several men selling tools, camels, and other basic supplies, but it was what we needed.

While Uncle Mark, Uncle Andrew, and Dr. Chamberlain purchased more supplies, Dad led me over to a tent where a boy and his mother were selling hats and clothing. They didn't have much, but I didn't need much. The hat I found was far too big for my head, but it was in good condition, and Dad bought some scrap material to stuff the hatband inside with, so that it would sit correctly, along with a shawl, since I'd also forgotten to put on my coat when I'd left the boat cabin, and it was long gone, too.

Beni made up for his mistakes: not only were we able to replenish the supplies in full, but the trading post also boasted a small ferry. It was nothing more than a raft, but it was enough to get everyone and their horses across the river, in several trips, without having to swim.

…

Traveling in the desert, for more than a several hour stretch at a time, was boring, there was no way around it. I had been on cattle drives, or long horseback rides, but I was used to having something to look at, something to pay attention to. Out in the desert, there was nothing. I busied myself with braiding what I could reach of the horse's mane, taking it out, trying something new, over and over and over again. What I could reach, sitting sidesaddle in front of Dad, was not very much. I listened to what Dad told me, or what he, Uncle Mark, and Uncle Andrew talked about. Some of it was stories, most of it was plans.

We were moving at a steady pace for most of the trip, but then hurried the last day and night of travel when Beni realized how far we still had to go. Apparently Dad, Uncle Mark, and Uncle Andrew had made a bet with a man who was also traveling to Hamunaptra. It took a lot for me to not roll my eyes, I didn't want to get in trouble, but they always did this, or at least Uncle Mark or Dad did and roped Uncle Andrew into it. At least it wasn't unexpected.

We didn't slow down until the last morning, as the sun was coming up. I was glad for the slower pace: I was used to my own horse's easier, steadier gaits and, compared to him, riding this horse was like riding a jumping deer. Not to mention that, for all the modifications that had been made to the saddle for me, it was not very comfortable, and after a few days I was cranky.

I could see four figures on camels approaching us, and even though I squinted I was unable to see who it was until we were close enough to speak. Evelyn! And the man in the white from the boat! Evelyn had said that her brother was coming with her, and looking at the four of them, I figured the man in white must have been him.

Just as I was opening my mouth to call out to her, Uncle Mark called out to the man who must have been the cowboy that Evelyn had mentioned:

"Remember our bet, O'Connell! First one to the city… 500 cash bucks!"

Oh dear.