Page 33 of Tharn’s Hunt (Barbarians of the Dust #2)

BURIED ALIVE AND OTHER ROMANTIC GETAWAYS

JACQUI

O ne second, Tharn is beside me; the next, he’s shoving me with enough force to send me flying.

I hit the sand hard, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs, but I barely register the pain because what I see next freezes the blood in my veins.

Where I was standing just moments ago, the ground has exploded upward. Something massive and pale bursts from the sand. A nightmare creature with segmented armor plates and a gaping circular mouth ringed with teeth.

The air vibrates with a hiss I feel more than hear .

It towers above Tharn, its eyeless head turning as if scenting the air… and then it strikes.

Tharn tries to dodge, but he’s not moving right—he hasn’t been moving right all day.

The creature misses his body, but three body-lengths behind where its head emerged, its tail suddenly whips up from the sand.

The armored tip strikes like a scorpion’s sting, wrapping around Tharn’s thigh with a crack that echoes across the dunes.

I see the moment the barbs sink, just before the creature’s head dives back into the sand, burrowing once more.

"THARN!" My scream tears from my throat as the serpent begins dragging him backward toward the hole it created.

Everything happens too fast. Tharn’s claws rake desperately at the ground, carving deep furrows as the serpent drags him under. His golden body twists and jerks, trying to find purchase, but the merciless sand shifts and crumbles beneath him.

"Tharn!" I scream again, the sound raw in my throat. His gaze snaps up, locking on mine, even as his claws dig into the sand. The serpent is too strong. He’s being pulled deeper, the sand shifting like liquid around him.

To my right, Justine cries out—a sharp, pained sound. It cuts through the chaos like a knife.

I whip my head toward her. She’s stumbling, clutching her leg, blood streaking her hand.

Rok is already moving. He’s there in an instant, his arms sliding under her, lifting her like she weighs nothing.

“No! Forget about me! We have to help Tharn!” Justine shouts, her voice cracking with pain.

Rok’s jaw tightens, and for the first time, I see his glow. It erupts, then falters, flickering unevenly—like a heartbeat gone wrong. It pulses brighter as blood seeps between Justine’s fingers, and something about that glow twists in my gut.

He sets her down behind an outcropping of rock, his movements careful despite the chaos, before spinning and racing back toward Tharn.

I turn back just in time to see Tharn’s arms sink deeper. His shoulders are almost gone.

I’m running. I don’t remember deciding to, but my legs are moving, the world narrowing to the spot where he’s vanishing.

"Jacqui, stop!" Justine’s voice is hoarse behind me. "You can’t! You’ll just get yourself killed!"

I don’t hear her. Not really.

Tharn’s eyes find mine. For a heartbeat, everything slows. There’s something in his gaze I’ve never seen before. Not fear, but regret. Bone-deep, soul-crushing regret.

And then he’s gone.

The sand collapses over him, settling as if he were never there.

"No!"

I’m already on my knees, clawing at the sand. It’s hot and coarse, scraping my palms raw, but I don’t care. A sound rips from my throat. A raw, tearing scream of pure no. I dig faster, the sound continuing, a wordless howl against the silent, indifferent desert.

Rok crashes down beside me, clawing at the sand where Tharn disappeared.

"Jacqui!" Justine’s voice cuts through the haze of my panic. "Stop! Stop, damn it!"

I ignore her. My fingers are bleeding now, the sand swallowing every handful I throw aside, but I don't stop. I can't stop. Tharn is down there, being crushed or suffocated or eaten alive, and it's all my fault. He pushed me out of the way. He saved me. Again.

"Please," I sob as I claw at the unyielding sand. "Please, please, please."

Suddenly, the ground beneath us shudders violently. Rok freezes, his head cocked as if listening. Then he grabs my arm and yanks me backward just as the sand erupts again—not where we were digging, but a few feet away.

Something thrashes beneath the surface, creating ripples in the sand like waves on water. I feel its hiss again, buzzing in my ears and rattling deep in my chest. The sand pebbles on the surface, trembling in response to the soundless pressure. The creature. It’s hurt.

Tharn’s fighting. He's alive.

Rok releases me and dives toward the new disturbance, his powerful arms sinking into the sand up to his shoulders. I scramble after him, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat.

"Come on, Tharn," I whisper. "Come on."

The sand shifts again, more violently this time.

"Rok!" Justine shouts from somewhere behind me.

But Rok ignores the warning, continuing to dig despite the tremors around us.

I turn to see my sister stumbling, her leg giving way beneath her. There's a deep gash in her calf, bleeding freely into the sand.

I'm torn, my gaze darting between my injured sister and the spot where Tharn is buried. I can't leave him. I can't.

But Justine is falling, her face pale with pain and blood loss.

With a final, desperate look at the churning sand, I rush to Justine's side. She's sitting now, her hands pressed against the wound in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding.

"It's not that bad," she says through gritted teeth, but the pallor of her face tells a different story.

I drop to my knees beside her, grabbing the pouch she’s tied to her waist with Rok’s herbs. "What happened?"

"Something hit me when that thing came up," she hisses as I crush the leaves, pushing them against the wound. "Some kind of debris. Hurts like hell."

"We need to get you help," I say, packing the wound with shaking hands. "And Tharn—we need help for Tharn too."

Heart still in my throat, I scan the horizon. “We're close to the clan caves, aren’t we? Very close.”

Justine grits her teeth, pressing a hand to her bleeding leg. “Just over…there.” She jerks her chin toward the rocky ridge ahead. “Rok says we should be able to see it from the top of that next dune.”

My eyes follow her gesture to a massive dune that stands between us and the ridge. It doesn’t look far on a map, but I know better. That’s a wall of loose, shifting sand that will fight me every step of the way.

A plan forms in my mind, desperate and probably stupid, but it's all I've got.

“Okay.” I exhale sharply, wiping my palms on my thighs. “Okay, I can do this.”

Justine’s eyes lock onto mine. “Jaqs?”

"Stay here," I tell her, already standing. "Apply pressure to the wound. I'm going to get help."

“Are you su—” But I’m already moving. "Jacqui, wait—!" Justine’s voice wavers, her hand outstretched.

I pause just long enough to meet her eyes, really meet them, and see the fear there. Not just for me, but of this moment. The one where she realizes she can’t protect me anymore.

"I’ve got this," I say softly, squeezing her fingers. "You taught me how."

Her breath catches. She searches my face like she’s seeing me for the first time. Then, slowly, she nods.

"Run fast," she whispers.

And I do.

The sand claws at my boots like it wants to drag me under. Every breath scorches my throat, but I push harder, arms pumping, heart hammering against my ribs.

It’s the firebloom cave all over again, but worse.

Because this time, my head is clear. This time, I know exactly what awaits me if I fail.

The ridge looms—closer, closer—as the sun brands my shoulders. Sweat blurs my vision, but I don’t slow. Can’t.

Somewhere behind me, Tharn is fighting to breathe under a mountain of sand.

Somewhere behind me, Justine is praying I’ll make it.

My foot catches in the sand. I stumble, knees slamming into the ground, but I’m up again before the pain registers.

Almost there.

I crest the dune, my eyes fixed on the distant ridge beyond which I pray the clan caves lie. Just a little further. Just a little?—

Movement on the ridge catches my eye. A figure, tall and golden-skinned like Tharn and Rok, but with distinct differences. This alien's skin is a richer bronze-amber color. His hair a dark slash against the yellow sky.

And he is alone. Utterly alone. There is no sign of a hunting party, no sense that he belongs here. He is just… an unknown male, appearing on the ridge as if from nowhere, and that uncertainty alone sends a skitter of fear down my spine.

Another hunter. Not from Tharn's clan?

For a moment, I falter. The rival clan member from yesterday flashes through my mind. His threat. What if this is one of his people?

But there's no time for fear. No time for caution. Tharn is buried alive, and Justine is bleeding out in the sand.

I wave my arms frantically, screaming at the top of my lungs. "HELP! HEEEELP!"

The figure on the ridge goes still, gaze snapping in my direction. Fear skitters down my spine again when, one moment he’s frozen still and the next he’s running toward me with inhuman speed, covering ground so quickly it seems like he's flying over the sand and rocks.

As he gets closer, I can see more details. The intricate shield-like patterns on his skin that are so like Tharn's patterns but different. The way his crimson eyes seem to glow as they fasten on me. Something about the way he moves tells me he’s even more dangerous than he seems.

My hands tremble as I raise them halfway, a pathetic attempt at a truce. “P-please, I mean no harm. I only need your help.”

He slows as I speak again, his posture cautious. But unlike when I first met Tharn, this hunter doesn't wince when I speak, which strikes me as odd. Unless…unless he’s been around humans! Hope flares in my chest.

"Please," I gasp, pointing back the way I came. "A sand creature attacked us. Tharn is buried. And my sister is hurt."

He stares at me, his crimson eyes unblinking, and I realize with a sinking heart that he can't understand me any more than Tharn could at first. We have no mindspace connection, no translator calibrated to his language.