Dust again. The wind was kicking up the dust, creating a thick haze that the headlights could barely cut through. The moon wasn't out yet either. But they had the GPS; how lost could they get?
Straight south, she had said, and look for trees. If they came to trees and a dry river they had gone too far. Trees were a pretty rare commodity around here. Most of the trees within 20 kilometers of the camp had already been stripped to the ground for firewood.
Luka had only been out of the camp twice before, and both times were by daylight, and both with a guard. The desert looked very different at night; cool, silent and utterly empty. If not for the dust it would be, he knew, beautiful.
"How far have we come?" he asked. The first words either one had spoken since leaving on this fool's errand.
Carter glanced at the odometer. "Just under 6 kilometers. Can't see a damned thing in this stuff."
"It's not like we're going to hit anyone," Luka replied. "Traffic's pretty light today. Rush hour's over."
"I don't want to drive off the road," Carter explained. Besides, the slower I drive the less sand I stir up."
And the longer we spend out here, Luka thought, but he said only "You watch the road. I'll take care of the rest."
And he did. As silence descended again, he peered through the dust until his eyes ached. They hadn't come far enough, he knew full well. It would be at least another 10 kilometers before he had a chance of finding anything. Still, he searched anyway, trying to decide if each rock, each dune looming up through the dim haze might be a body. The sooner they found them, the sooner they could return to the relative safety of the camp, and the sooner he could go to sleep.
He jumped a bit when Carter spoke again. "The road curves here."
"So?"
"So we're not heading south anymore. Did they follow the road?"
"She didn't say."
"So, what do we do?"
"You're asking me?" Luka fought to keep the irritation out of his voice. "This is your party."
"We'll follow the road," Carter decided. "Maybe it will swing south again."
"And if we hit the C.A.R. border before it does, we'll turn around."
"Oh, we'll run out of gas long before that," Carter joked back.
"That's a lovely thought."
For the next few kilometers the road continued to curve, south, then southeast, then south again. There was less dust now; the terrain was rocky, the road rougher. Then an outcropping of rocks, and the road turned sharply straight east for as far as the headlights shone.
Carter idled the engine for a minute, looking at the road, the GPS, and at Luka, who quickly shook his head and repeated firmly "Your party, Carter. But whatever we do, if we don't find them in another 15 kilometers, we're going back. We can try again in the morning."
"Fair enough." Carter shifted the engine into low gear and headed south, off the road. Skirting the outcrop of rock they emerged onto a stretch of sand and rock. "It's not much rougher than the road, really," he commented after a minute. Luka didn't answer. There was nothing to say.
Three more kilometers in silence. Five … eight … The landscape remained the same; sand and rock, the occasional hill, the even more occasional shrub. But no bodies.
Then, ahead in the distance, a smudge of something on the horizon. Less sharp-edged than the rocky hills they'd passed so often.
"Carter, up ahead. What do you think?"
"Trees? Maybe." Carter said thoughtfully. "Did we pass them?"
"How the hell should I know?" Luka snapped, then took a deep breath. None of this was Carter's fault. They were doing the right thing. It wasn't Carter's fault that he was chilly and tired and thirsty. "Ok, keep going, but drive slowly. They have to be here somewhere."
Carter slowed to about 5 kilometers per hour, and Luka searched both sides of the car. The moon was out now; it was nowhere near full, but it made it a bit easier to see – not that there was anything to be seen. More rocks. More sand. Still, he was so intent on his search out the side windows that he was startled to feel the rover suddenly stop.
Carter nodded towards the area ahead. "Trees," he said, and opened the door. Luka followed suit and stepped out into the chilly night. Trees. Acacia trees, about the only thing that grew in this harsh climate. Beneath his feet some coarse grass struggled to survive amidst the stones and sand. The river bed was dry, but there was enough water beneath the surface to support life of a sort.
"Over here," Carter called, and Luka hurried to join him. A few charred sticks, the remains of a campfire. A damp depression in the sand, perhaps someone had dug deep enough to get to water. "They definitely camped here last night," Carter went on. "We're in the right place."
"No," Luka said. "Somebody camped here. Maybe last night, maybe last week. It's an oasis, Carter. There's wood, there's water, there's shade. People are going to camp here. "
"It's our best shot," Carter argued. "If we head straight north from here we're bound to find them. We must have missed them. Maybe we were just a little bit too far east before. I mean … if they started out from here they'd be a few hundred yards west. It's not surprising that you didn't see them.
Our best shot is to go back and try again in the morning. Luka sighed. "Ok. So we need to go what … 4 … 5 kilometers?"
Back to the rover in silence. Carter drove straight west half a kilometer, then turned north.
The going was even rougher here. More stones beneath the tires, more rocky hills. Every kilometer or so Carter had to drive around another outcrop or rocks.
Then … something larger than a rock, softer looking than a rock. Perhaps 20 meters to the left of the car.
"Stop!"
The protesting squeal of the brakes as Carter brought the rover to a rapid halt.
"There," Luka pointed. "I think we found them." Despite his fatigue, he couldn't help smiling as he rummaged in the back for flashlights and, handing one to Carter, opened the door.
It was the body of a young man, perhaps 18 or 19 years old. Shot once through the chest, and cold. He had been dead for a while.
Carter joined him. "I knew it was worth trying. I knew we would find them," he said.
Them.
"Maybe not," Luka said softly.
"What?"
"Where are the others? There should be seven bodies here. This man could be anyone … I'm sure that they weren't the only party ambushed in the desert this week."
Rising stiffly from his squat, Luka slowly shone his flashlight in a circle. There … another 50 meters away, maybe …. Or maybe it was a rock. He started towards it, and saw out of the corner of his eye Carter heading rapidly in another direction.
"Here are two more!" Carter called to him, and then, excitement in his voice, "And this one's still alive!"
"I'll be right there!" Luka started to call back. He would check his own victim first. It was a body, not a rock.
But a sudden sound, startling in the stillness. A crack, then another. And a shout. And Luka instinctively threw himself flat into the sand. The flashlight hit the ground just out of reach. Now his own breathing was loud in the renewed stillness.
"Carter! Carter!"
And more shots.
