She stared at him in disbelief. "More hostile than this?"
He nodded. "The rocks absorb the heat from the sun, and they're so sharp you'll wear your boots out in no time."
She stared down at the empty camp. Things were getting progressively worse. Were the others still alive? Bordeaux was right. Pete would expect Bordeaux to take care of her. What was it Pete had said? She could almost hear his gravely voice... "If anything happens, find Bordeaux and stay with him. Do everything he says." If Pete had that much faith in Bordeaux, he had good reason.
The sand stretched out before her, their tracks pointing to the escape route. How could they get away, leaving such a trail? She glanced up at Bordeaux.
"They'll find our tracks, won't they?"
"Not if they don't come back this way. All the same, we'd better get moving."
As they walked back down the dune, she drug her hand in a wavy line, trying to obliterate their tracks.
"Don't do that," Bordeaux told her sharply. "It takes time we don't have, it won't fool the Indians, and you're raising dust they might see."
She jerked her hand away from the sand and stared up at him, a lump forming in her throat.
"I'm scared," she said, and her voice verified her words.
Bordeaux smiled down at her. "Me too. It's healthier that way."
She followed him for miles, trying to keep up with his long strides. She wanted to ask him to slow down, but she was already holding him back. If she couldn't keep up she would likely get him killed. She forced her legs to move faster, stumbling and almost falling in the deep sand.
Finally he stopped. "Let's take a rest."
He wasn't tired. He was trying to make it easy on her. She couldn't let him do that.
"No, there isn't time." She brushed by him and he caught her arm, bringing her to an abrupt halt.
"There's no point in pushing yourself until you drop. Take a few swallows of water and rest your legs for a minute."
Of course, it made sense. Didn't he always make sense? How could anyone be right 100% of the time? It was criminal - robbing others of their dignity that way.
When the ache had left her legs numb, and her breath was no longer coming in gasps, they started out again - across sand dunes - up and down. They traveled until she lost track of time. It took too much effort to look up at the sun to measure time. Her legs cramped with every step and perspiration oozed from every pore in her body. She breathed through her mouth, gasping for each breath. Her throat was dry and her lips swollen. She plodded on, willing herself to take each step, not thinking of the miles to go, but merely getting through one more painful step. Occasionally she had a flashing thought that she didn't care if the Indians caught her, but when she reminded herself that they would also catch Bordeaux, she summoned a little energy from that mystery area.