CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

THE INTENSITY OF THE desert growl grew in both volume and pitch, reaching a shrill whine. We ran, one hard-fought step after another. The exposed skin around my wrists and the back of my neck grew raw, then numb. Between snatches of breath and labored strides, I scanned the boy’s skin. Deep, red veins ribboned his hide, the surface of which was eroding and toughening at the same time.

If he were lucky, he would die before the transition completed. If not, well, he’d die either way. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Evie would never forgive me, but none of that would matter if we didn’t find the caves soon.

Visibility continued to decrease, both physically and psychically. No caves. “Where are they?” I yelled over the roaring wind.

“Last time I was here was with your father, twenty-six years ago!” A gust nearly threw Petrosian to the ground. “If you haven’t noticed, things in the desert move.”

I choked. The filter in my rebreather had clogged. Each new breath felt like straining pudding through panty hose—a memory from an earlier life. “We’re not going to make it.”

“There’s no choice.” Petrosian fell to a knee. “We have to.”

We all stopped. I caught Adel’s eye.

“It’s no good.” She panted.

Evie grasped my free hand and spoke inside my head. There’s another way.

What about Oleg?

We’re going to die anyway. She squeezed my hand.

I nodded. Good point, as usual. Then speaking to the others, I said, “Hold on.”

“What are you doing?” Petrosian objected, but there was nothing he could do.

I punched a hole in the storm with my thoughts. Sucking the wind-borne sand into a funnel for twenty meters in every direction, I exposed us within an eerily calm eye. Our section of the Rub’ al Khali fell quiet. Blue sky shone overhead. Within the funnel, everything appeared crystal clear. Using my sixth sense, I scanned beneath the surface. No caves.

I expanded the size of the cyclone until they appeared, seventy-five meters to the south and west. We had passed them in the storm. “This way.” Beads of sweat formed beneath my goggles, fogging the lenses and forcing me to rely solely on my psychic grid. With one arm, I supported the boy, Muhammad. With the other, I tugged Evie onward. “Just a bit farther. There.” Every second we spent like this risked our immediate exposure to Oleg.

The desert swelled upward, disguising the entrance to the cave as a slightly-larger-than-usual dune. Beneath the mound lay the peak of a large, subterranean rock—its base diving beyond my ability to perceive.

“This is it. Hurry.” Petrosian took Evie’s hand from mine. “The entrance is tight, but it widens quickly. I’ll go first. You follow, feet first.”

She looked at me.

“I’ll be right behind Adel.”

“What about Muhammad?” She panicked.

“I’ll lower him. I promise.”

Petrosian had already slipped out of sight headfirst. I closed the scope of the cyclone to a bubble. The blue sky disappeared.

Reticent, Adel looked from the sky to my eyes. “It was nice while it lasted.”

“Let’s hope it was a private viewing.”

Evie squirmed into the mouth feetfirst. Her body halfway in, she was whisked inside.

Adel sank to her knees. “I hope that was Petrosian pulling her in.”

“Me too. I’ll hand you the boy.”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“No, but I have to.”

“You’re the boss.” She scooted inside and disappeared in the same manner.

“Here goes nothing.” I lowered Muhammad to the ground, aiming his feet into the opening.

He coughed and shot awake. “The red eyes are open.” He buried his fingernails into my forearm.

Jolting, I lost focus. The protective cyclone collapsed before I could shove the boy fully inside. The storm lifted me, slamming me against the rock overhang. They boy’s nails dug deeper. With a forceful tug, he and I both slipped inside the cocoon, beneath the surface of the desert, to await a metamorphosis unleashed by hell itself.