Chapter Twenty-Nine
Twenty-nine
The darkness was absolute, like the thickest blackout curtains set across the windows to block out any light.
Then there was a dull and distant sound, like a storm rumbling underwater.
It was soon followed by pain.
Porter’s head throbbed, sharp and pulsing just behind his temple. He tried to move, but there was something heavy all around him, covering his body. With heat.
Porter sucked in a breath, except particles flowed.
Sand?
He gagged. Coughed. The taste of dirt, laced with the bitter tang of exhaust, coated his tongue.
Bulldust!
He’d been buried in the bulldust.
The problem now was: which way was up?
The panic hit him as he tried to shift. His arms were pinned, his body twisted, with his right leg bent beneath him in an awkward position.
Yet the sound behind him seemed familiar…
It was the car horn.
Suddenly sure he was going in the right direction, he dug through the fine powder with speed. His hands scraping blindly, clawing upward, as the dust collapsed with every movement.
His pulse hammered now. As did his chest, desperate for air.
What the hell happened?
The Ram. He’d taken the rope to tie it onto the back.
Siri held the shovel—
Amara!
The muffled sound of the horn. Brief. Distant. Then… nothing.
His lungs were screaming. He clawed faster, towards that red glow he hoped were taillights. Pushing upward, choking as dust filled his mouth. His fingers hit something metal. The exhaust pipe. Then the handle of the rear door.
Using the tow ball just beneath it, he hauled himself up the back of Amara’s car, praying it hadn’t sunk further.
The dust surrounded him like soft, warm ash. It was endless. But he didn’t stop.
He burst through to the surface, coughing violently, with his eyes watering in the glow of red taillights.
The Freelander was nose-down in the dust trap. Doors and windows were sealed. And sinking deeper. While filling up inside like a funnel.
‘Amara!’
He staggered to his feet. Pain lanced through his head, but the adrenaline and his need to save her shoved it all aside.
Again, he waded back through the powder like they were in the surf’s swell fighting against a riptide.
Finally, he reached the driver’s side, but the window was covered from the inside. She was still in there. Trapped.
‘Amara!’ The door was impossible to open, jammed tight under the weight of the dirt.
He ripped off his belt, wrapped it around his knuckles, and used the buckle to smash the window. Glass shattered. Dust exploded. A scream broke through.
He reached in and dragged her out, fighting against that tidal rush of funnelled sand, hauling her through the broken window and into the night air.
She gasped, coughing violently, as her whole body trembled.
Porter dragged her to solid ground where he landed on his back—wrapping his arms around her, holding her tightly against his chest like he’d never let go. Not ever.
Amara clung to him, shaking, her sobs muffled against his shoulder.
Porter barely had time to tighten his grip before the Land Rover gave a final, hollow groan beside them—like metal mourning its own death.
A whump of bulldust exploded, rolling over them like a wave.
‘Hold on and don’t breathe.’ Porter braced himself.
Clutching Amara closer, protecting her head with his hands, his face burrowing against her neck, as the wave of fiery dust washed over them.
It stung against his exposed skin, and he pulled up the layers of Amara’s gown to shield her as he held her tighter.
Then came the silence, the kind that settled heavily, like everything was holding its breath.
For a moment, all he could do was stare at the stars, growing clearer as the dust settled around them, his eyes stinging and his lungs catching.
That was the deepest dust trap he’d ever seen. And he’d seen a few in his time—but this? This was a bastard pit carved by the wet season and filled with powdered death.
Amara coughed and gasped for air beside him, smothered in dirt and disbelief. ‘That just… vanished.’
‘Yeah. Welcome to the Territory.’ His heart pounded with hers, as their chests heaved for air, as he tried to shake that bone-deep terror of how close he’d come to losing her.
And that’s when he knew.
The one and only personal rule he ever had—was broken.