This is entry 14 of Roger’s Camel.
We got back to camp and we found out Jack and Abby haven't returned yet. I look at Kathy, "Which way did they go?" She points to the south. I look at Gordon, "Let's go."
The sun’s high and hot, beating down on us, the sand reflecting like fire. Every step feels heavier than the last. I keep thinking about what could’ve happened out there—what if they got lost or hurt? My stomach twists, but I try not to show it. Gordon’s quiet, just adjusting his pack, moving steady. I like that about him, calm when I’m ready to panic.
We follow the trail south, a faint line in the sand that could be footprints or just wind. I squint, trying to make out anything, but the dust from the storm still lingers in the air, making everything blurry. Every shadow looks like something hiding, every rock a possible threat.
“Jack!” I shout, my voice cracking from the dryness. “Abby!” Gordon calls too, his voice low and steady. Only the wind answers.
We keep walking, the sand under our boots like walking through powder, soft and shifting. After what feels like hours, I spot movement far off. I freeze. Gordon does too. Two little shapes, waving their arms, kicking up sand. Relief hits me so hard I stumble forward.
“Jack! Abby!” I yell again, faster this time. They run toward us, laughing, but their clothes are torn, their faces smudged with dust and sweat. Gordon kneels to help them up, and I grab Abby’s hand, pulling her close.
“Thought you guys were never coming back!” I say, my chest tight, coughing from the dust. Abby shrugs, grinning.
“Found some berries,” she says, showing a handful. Jack holds a small sack, heavy with some sort of roots or dried plants. Not much, but enough to keep us going for another day.
We turn back to camp together, slow and careful. The water we found earlier feels heavier now, precious. The sun’s still high, and the desert stretches forever, but for the first time in days, I feel a little hope. We got each other, and that’s something. Maybe that’s enough.
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