26. Jack
TWENTY-SIX
JACK
Jack could feel his father tapping him on his back.
He chanced a quick look over his shoulder, and at the same moment, wished he hadn’t.
There was a wall of sand over a hundred feet high rushing toward them.
It was still more than a quarter mile away, but Jack knew how quickly a sandstorm was capable of moving.
Marcus’ arm shot forward on Jack’s left side. His father’s finger pointed to the ridge of trees marking the edge of the desert and the beginning of the mountainous forest region beyond.
“Can—we—make it?” his father shouted into his ear.
Jack set his jaw and nodded. Sloan and Aareth must have noticed Marcus’ instructions. Sloan stayed close. They both gunned the engines.
Sand swirled around them at hazardous speeds as they raced toward the safety of the tree line. Jack jammed his lips shut as he squinted through the goggles and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of tiny granules making their way inside his ears and nostrils.
Fear began to pump through his veins like poison as he lowered his head and thought about the possibility of not reaching the tree line in time.
If they didn’t make it to the safety of the trees, Jack knew they had a very small chance of survival.
They would be enveloped and buried by the wall of sand behind them.
These thoughts made Jack do the worst thing possible. He looked behind him again.
The wall of sand was gaining on them despite the breakneck speed the mage-powered machines were traveling. The wall of sand was at least as tall as New Hope’s city walls. Jack tried to focus on anything except the stories he heard about men trapped in sandstorms and buried alive. It didn’t work.
The tree line was approaching quickly. Thirty yards away from the safety of the trees, Jack could make out the detail of the hedge of pines before them. He aimed the machine for a spot between two large trees and prayed they would make it.
Twenty yards away from safety, the sandstorm overtook them. Jack felt the machine nearly lift from the ground. His father’s strong arms wrapped around his chest, tight and firm. Jack knew his father was trying to shield him as best as he could.
Ten yards from the tree line, the limited visibility they had turned to none at all. Jack set his jaw and tried to remember where he had seen the opening in the line of trees. Was it here? Was it a little to the left? Am I going left now or is this straight?
The sand was so thick in the air, Jack couldn’t even see the control panel right under his eyes, much less what was in front of them.
Out of nowhere, tree limbs appeared. At the rate Jack and his father were traveling, the tree branches struck the machine with wood-splintering force.
Jack slammed on the brakes too hard. Jack and his father were thrown off the bike and catapulted through the air.