Chapter 13: The Perfect Storm

The storm bore down on them like a raging beast, set to devour all that stood in its path. Aaron brought the car to a stop, knowing that he could never outrace it. "Out of the car! Now!" He bellowed over the winds. He undid his seat belt and jumped across the hood of his car to land on the other side. "Everybody, get on this side! Do it!" The sandstorm was raging closer and closer, a true monster of the desert, the living personification of Sekhmet's breath. They all jumped out of the car, their belongings in hand, Odion snatching up the tarp in the vehicle to shield them. Flinging it Odion managed to cover the five with the tarp in one fell swoop. Ther used their bags to weigh down the tarp along the edges, to lessen the chances of it blowing away. Sivya, pale with fright, wedged herself between Marik and Odion, though she was much closer to the former than the latter.

"I always hated sandstorms," Sivya whispered under the tarp. All five of them had a grip on it, lest it blow away with the winds and exposing them to the elements.

"Me too," Marik replied, hoping to calm her. He reached out with one hand and gave hers a quick squeeze. "It'll be okay though, I promise."

Sivya glanced upwards. "I hope so."

Aaron glimpsed over at Odion and gave a curt nod. "Good thinking."

Odion merely grunted and clenched the edged of the tarp tighter.

Then, the sandstorm hit.

It struck them with the fury of a thousand hammers striking a single anvil. The storm threatened to rip away the tarp from their hands. Sand and wind beat against it, creating a cacophony of chaos outside their improvised shelter. Even with their protection though, sand still managed to sneak in, getting into their eyes, mouths and nostrils, irritating everything it touched. Sivya whimpered and leaned closer to Marik. She had only encountered sandstorms a handful of times, most of them while inside her cave. The other time happened while she was attending her goats. She only had seconds to dive down behind a rock and cover her face with her headcloth before it struck. She still had scars from where the sand had rubbed her skin red and raw.

The storm seemed to last an eternity, screaming and wailing until it drowned out even the simplest thought. Aaron was whispering something under his breath, but none could tell what, for the desert's fury drowned him out. Sivya looked to be mouthing the Lord's Prayer as she screwed her eyes tight, praying for it to end.

Then, as soon as it came, it passed over over, leaving them in an unearthly silence. Sivya started to peek outside, but was stopped by Marik, who placed a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back down inside the tarp. They waited a few minutes, sitting underneath the oppressively hot tarp, until Aaron spoke: "I'll go check." He slowly peeked outside, only to find that not only had the storm passed over, but it had dissipated completely, with only a few, small dust tornadoes to show as evidence that a storm even plowed through.

"It's okay now. You can come out now." In response, Marik flung the tarp, glad to be free of the polyester cocoon, only to confront the blistering heat of the sun.

Sivya slowly stood up, her legs cramping from sitting for so long. She stumbled though, landing on Marik, who caught her. He flushed. "Sorry about that," she mumbled.

"No-no worries," Marik replied. His eyes caught their jeep and groaned as he saw the sand layered liberally on all surfaces of the forest green vehicle. "Aw man!"

"No kidding," Aaron said. "I'll bet that I'll still find sand weeks after this!" The comment, as unfunny as it was, broke the tension that had surrounded them like a heavy cloud. They burst into laughter, all of them feeling oddly liberated from the experience.

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They managed to make it to the shore where Aaron Levi's contact said he would meet them. The stars were out in full view, providing minimal light for them. Their boat was in fact a motorboat, with a cabin and what looked like the ones smugglers would use. Marik got an unsettling feeling about Aaron's contact, but he trusted that the man wouldn't steer them wrong, he hoped.

He whispered to Aaron, "Is he a smuggler or something?" Ever since Battle City, he had been wary of dealing with the "shadier" side of people, for fear of somehow getting caught up in their business and then paying for it due to his own shady past. He had once suspected Ishizu of pulling some strings and essentially bailing him out of the law's grasp, but he never did ask; he didn't want to imply anything of his loyal sibling.

"A long time ago. He was caught smuggling in supplies during out blockade a while ago and in exchange for immunity, he lead us to a Hamas sect."

"Do he know you're retired now?"

Half a smirk danced across Aaron's features. "Maybe, maybe not."

"I'm going with the maybe not."

Aaron's contact was a lanky, grizzled man with salt-and-pepper hair with a posture indicating that he once served in some form of military force; however, he clearly walked with a limp, indicated by the hardwood cane he leaned into it while coming across to greet them. "Ah, so are these the people I'm supposed to smuggle in," he said, eying the three up and down. His accent indicated that he was from Turkey. His eyes fell to Odion and Marik and he nodded. "I have passports for you two," he turned to Sivya, "But not you; however, for a price I can get you one rather,. . .quickly," he leered, hand outstretched. Marik growl involuntarily in the back of his throat, then paused, wondering what could bring on such a reaction like that.

Quick as a snake, Sivya's staff whipped out, rapping the smuggler hard across the back of his hand. He yelped and jerked his hand back, nursing it. Aaron inhaled sharply at her reaction, fearing that their deal now may be rescinded. The smuggler was quiet, then burst out in laughter. "You have gall, girlie!" he laughed. "I'll give you that! Very well, I'll see if I can rustle you up a passport."

Aaron breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you Hakan. Your assistance is very much appreciated."

"Don't give me your honeyed words, Aaron," Hakan snorted. "Just get in the blasted boat."

Aaron chuckled as he lead his wards onto the motorboat. Hakan merely rolled his eyes and limped onto the boat behind them, fumbling for the keys in his trench coat pocket. The boat left the secretive cove in a matter of minutes.

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She tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Sivya had never been on a boat before and the rolling motions made her feel ill to his stomach. Hakan, the smuggler, had offered her some Dramamine and it helped a little, but the medicine had since worn off and she didn't want to bug Hakan, whom was too busy steering the boat at the moment. She breathed a little prayer under her breath as she staggered onto the deck, praying that she could get to the side before getting ill all over it. Earlier, both Marik and Aaron had asked to be excused earlier, after Aaron helped Hakan fashion their fake visas. They were very realistic, Marik had said, and she was inclined to believe him. After this, she and Odion decided to follow suit, although now she didn't see the older man in his bunk.

She leaned over the side, waiting for the nauseating feeling to pass, and tried to focus on the horizon, something that either Marik or Odion had mentioned.

"Can't sleep?" She slowly craned her head to find Odion hovering over her, his face in stark shadows and harsh highlights, from the ship's light.

Sivya whimpered in response and then sunk down, leaning against the sides of the deck's wall, hugging her knees. "I feel ill."

"Here." Odion knelt next to her, handing her a Dramamine patch. "This could help."

"Thank you." Grateful, she placed the patch just behind her ear, as the instructions warranted. "Can you sleep?"

"I don't think I can." Odion replied, seating himself. "Tell me," he began. "Why are you traveling with us?"

Sivya was taken aback by the remark. As she scanned his features to find a trace of ill-will, but found none, so this must have been asked out of curiosity rather than malice. "I, I had to escape. There was nothing left. No parents, no siblings, only some goats that would always get in trouble. I didn't have a fiance or someone to miss me when I was gone."

"You wanted to escape," Odion stated.

Sivya nodded and Odion continued. "But you could have left earlier, without our arrival inspiring you. Was it something else then?"

"I don't understand."

"I think you like him."

"Like who?"

Odion chuckled; the girl, old as she was, was very naive, but it was a bad thing. "Marik."

Sivya blushed. "He is very nice, and he is funny too, but I don't know if I like him that way." Poor Sivya. It was puppy love, Odion decided. He only nodded as Sivya continued. "But surely he must have someone at home waiting for him."

"Like a wife?"

"Yes," Sivya admitted, albeit slowly.

"No, Marik is not married, nor is he engaged." It looked as if Sivya breathed a sigh of relief, but he decided to not remark on it.

"Oh." Sivya was quiet, relieved that the patch was starting to work. It made her a little drowsy, but that in itself was a blessing, for it would let her sleep through the night. "Can, can I ask something?"

"What is it?"

"What are those markings on your face?"

Odion gave a faint smile. He could tell that she had been wanting to ask for a while, since they had crossed paths. "They are Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics of an ancient spell of protection. I had them placed on my face when I was younger, in the hopes to protect Marik."

"Did it hurt?"

"Very, but it was worth it."

"Oh." Sivya, realizing how tired, attempted to stand upright, only to stumble when the boat shifted suddenly. "The medicine must be making this way," she explained .

"The Dramamine patches will do that. Good night Sivya." Odion helped the young woman gain her balance and watched her as she walked back to the cabin, tripping only slightly. Clearly she was not used to the antihistamine effects of the medication.

She stumbled in the dark trying to find her bed. The patches were working very quickly and efficiently; she wondered if she would just simply collapse in the middle of the cabin. As she managed to make her way to the bed, she heard something. She craned to listen. They were faint cries, whimpers, like someone crying out in the throes of a nightmare. She scanned the surroundings, more curious than concerned, and found their source. She saw Marik thrashing about in his bunk, his hands twisting in claw like shapes as he clutched for something, anything. She went to his side. "Marik," she whispered, hoping to break him from the nightmare. When nothing happened, she whispered his name louder and shook his shoulder. His eyes shot wide open and he clutched at his blankets. "Odion?" he asked quietly, like a child.

"No, it's me. Sivya," she replied softly. "You were having a nightmare. Are you okay?"

"I, I don't know," he said softly.

"It's done now," she soothed. "You're okay."

He looked at her and she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, something that had been previously hidden by his kohl. "Am I?" he asked.

She wasn't sure what he meant by the comment, but she went with it anyways. "Yes, you are."

"Stay with me," Marik blurted, reminding Sivya of when she was a child, asking her mother to stay with her when she had bad dreams. "Please." His hands reached out to cling to her arms. "Please," he pleaded again.

"I will stay," she said, ignoring the tired feeling that was gnawing at her. The rest she so desperately wanted would have to wait. She did tell herself, after all, that she would do most anything for them, in hopes of earning their trust. Perhaps Marik didn't realize that he wasn't talking to Odion, she thought. Marik clutched at her hands.

"Until I fall asleep?" he asked.

"Until you fall asleep." She answered.

"And beyond?"

"And beyond."

He closed his eyes, his hands still clinging to her own. His hands were soft, with minimal calluses on the forefinger and thumb. Hers, on the other hand, were rough and callused, due to her constant work. His were almost like a baby's, she thought, before nodding off, placing her head on the edge of the bed.

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Odion didn't enter the cabin until later that night, after making arrangements with Hakan. They would arrive at Tel Aviv about noon the next day, with their passports in hands. He entered the cabin quietly, trying hard not to wake Marik. He stumbled over something and he uttered an ancient curse under his breath, his toe throbbing. However, it wasn't until after he looked down that he realized what he had tripped over. Sivya was kneeling next to Marik's bed, asleep, while Marik clung to her hands, his face relaxed, the most relaxed he had seen him in days. He couldn't help but smile at the sight. Perhaps Sivya was what they needed after all.

He couldn't wipe the smile off the face when he crawled under the covers of his cramped bunk, and it wasn't until after he fell asleep did his face relax.

Phew, that chapter was a doozie. It wasn't that it was too long—actually I think it's a bit short, but I can't think of anything to add to it—but it was at about a third of the way through, right when they first meet the smuggler, when I got stuck.

And it was serious stuck-age(which probably isn't a real word, but who's looking) too. Then, thankfully, I got unstuck and thus, this chapter.

Fun Research is fun lol

Please review?