Soon enough, Vanessa snapped the reins and rushed into the arid desert. The course was set toward the Glaston complex.
A half hour in, she could no longer see the garden on the horizon behind her. The first moon became visible as the suns began to set. With a jolt, she turned the cart sharply to the side.
The men riding in would be coming from the settlement, far to the East. There were huge sand dunes in the area of the valley, so their logical course of arrival would be through the valley mouth, the calm pathway she and Knives used to reach the eastern plants. If they were still journeying through the flatlands, she'd be able to hear them from the mouth, she figured. The ears come in handy, sometimes, she reflected. The strange-looking things helped her to hear tomas steps and voices from much further away than until they'd come into sight, a talent that'd helped her avoid many a conflict back in the day.
There likely was still time. She could make it before they saw the green.
Hopefully, she'd at least get the chance to warn the raiders before they made it to Knives. Maybe those old tactics of hers would buy them time. Whatever she'd end up doing, it'd be better than letting Knives slaughter them.
Every ile or so, she'd stop the toma and climb atop the cart to close her eyes and listen to the distance. It stole time, distance, but she was nearly to the mouth by then and if they still weren't within earshot of her, they were far enough away anyhow. Everything will be fine, she recited in her brain, everything will be fine.
She bit into her tongue with the sharp, pointed teeth filling the back of her jaw. The slight taste of blood in her mouth kept her awake, kept her alert. Humans are dangerous, she knew that from…'experiences' she'd had. Even Vash only knew a fraction of her stories, the few she'd told him disturbed him well enough. If she played this right, if she was careful, she could avoid adding one more story to her list.
The toma's pace slowed. Strange, they'd never been stubborn on a trip before. Lashing the reins, she attempted to hurry them up.
In the blink of an eye, she was pitched forward, head slamming into the windshield of the cart cabin.
Coming to rest from the jolt, her neck fell onto the dashboard. She coughed, wrenching herself back against the back of the seat. The cart began to move again and spun to turn full around. Vanessa slumped into the seat beside her from the shift. Pulling herself back upright with the dashboard, she squinted to see that the toma were turning, that the window wasn't broken, but there was a bloody smear. Reaching up with one hand, she winced, and pulled away fingers moist with blood. Before they slipped from view, she grasped at the reins, and pulled them back up to her, through the underneath of the dashboard. Whipping them about several times, she was unable to elicit a response from the toma. They were gaining in speed, rushing back for the garden.
Her head was beginning to hurt, and she didn't care to think of why they were doing it. She turned round and ducked out the back window to retrieve some supplies. She couldn't carry it all, but with a few canteens and the main backpack, she'd make it. Hastily, she grabbed for them and tossed them out the side, before diving out herself, rolling to a stop in the sand.
She pulled herself up and leaned forward on her palms for a moment. The toma cart rushed away. Groaning, she stood and spotted her supplies back a ways. Taking only a moment to equip herself and get a sip of water, she trudged towards the valley mouth, fingers checking her scalp through hair dirty with blood and sand.