I woke up in a tall-backed chair in the middle of the desert. I was sitting among a ring of about twenty chairs that appeared to be in the backyard of someone's mansion. Looking around I realized several things at once. I had a pounding headache and felt nauseous, I had no idea where I was, and as far as I could see there was nothing but hills of sand. The sun was sinking behind a nearby dune and I couldnt find anyone or hear anything coming from the mansion behind me. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest and at my temple when I realized that I wasn't tied down to anything.
I got up and sprinted towards the low stone wall of the yard, hopped over, and started running for the horizon. I didn't make it ten yards before I doubled over and vomited all over my shoes. It was several seconds until i could catch my breath and attempt to stand up, but my legs were weak. Before i knew it, several children, boys and girls, were descending on me yelling and laughing. They must've been around the corner of the house where i couldn't see them. The oldest of the boys, thirteen or fourteen, started speaking to me very quickly in Arabic, but he didn't seem angry, just very upset and almost concerned. The kids were chattering in excited voices and making a lot of noise.
As I tried to pull away from their grips on my arms and legs, more people came from the tall plaster edifice. A young woman and young man about my age walked towards our scuffle; they looked exactly alike.
The twins came over and the girl offered me her hand but i didn't accept and continued to try to escape the children, yelling at them the whole time. She pulled me to my feet, but as soon as I stood, I ripped free from her and willed my legs to carry me far enough away from whatever the hell was going on here in the middle of the desert. I could hear shouting behind me and within seconds, the woman's brother grabbed me around the waist and carried me kicking back to the chair. He was much stronger than he appeared, lean and slim, but toned. His sister had the same build. After he dropped me into the chair, he said in English, "If you a run again we will restrain you." I didnt like it but i knew he was right. i felt as though id throw up again and clearly i was too weak to fight anyone or run anywhere. He took a seat to my left, and the young woman sat to my right, while the children tooko seats on the groun around the yard. Some of them chattered to me g in questioning tones but i had no idea what they were saying. I just looked wildly back at them, confused and continued to scan my surroundiing as panci begiin to set in.
Where am i, how did i get here, who are these people, and what ar they going to do to me?
Frustrated and scared out of my mind, I took another look at the desert. I could truly see nothing around but stray grass and a single broad tree a few miles away. "What happened to me?! Where am I and who are you people!?" I tried.
The last event my mind could grasp was my flight into Cairo for a medical mission trip. We strolled off the large plane into a beautiful and large city, and towards a smaller red plane meant to carry us to the farther reaching villages of Egypt along the Nile in need of medicine and aid.
I strode towards the plane and pulled my scarf up over my mouth. The craft was very small, and our bags were put into a hatch near the tail.
The pilot spoke into a dispatch radio in beautiful Arabic for about five minutes, taking directions and giving essential flight info i guessed.
Then, she put the radio away, slammed the passenger door from across my lap, and turned the craft towards the runway.
The plane carried the pilot, five missionaries including myself, and our small luggage holding medical supplies and the essentials. As we piled in, we fanned ourselves and kept our mouths and noses covered for the summer dust and wind.
Those of us on the trip were myself along with Lane, my classmate, Dr. Rane, my professor, and Mike and Emily Boudreaux, a married couple from my college town of Baton Rouge. Our pilot was a tall, slim lady with caramel colored skin and beautiful blue eyes under her mask, who also wore a woven scarf over most of her face. Wait...
I glanced at the girl sitting to the right of me and stared straight into her eyes. She was that pilot from Cairo. There was no mistaking her now that I could see her face in full, and those eyes.
"Why did you take me!! Where am I!" I screamed at her.
Her kind eyes slid all over my face and she smiled softly. She held out her hand and said, "My name is Elena. And yours?" She said in a honey thick accent.
Fat chance I was telling her that if she didn't already know.
"Well Eleeennaa. Let me go, why am I here?" I demanded.
"You are in no danger, I promise. If we let you go, you will die very soon my friend. There is no water or shelter for miles, and when the sun comes up it will be blistering hot."
I realized then it was the evening, and my last memory was of midday. Have I been out for just a few hours, or for a few days?
***
On the tiny red airplane, Lane had looked up to where I sat in the passenger seat and squeezed my hand and yelled, "Are you excited? You've been waiting for this for months."
"I'm definitely excited but I don't know how I feel about being in this plane with the wind out there," I laughed and shouted back over the sound of the turning propellers. I love flying and riding in boats and cars but I've never depended on such a small one.
The pilot looked around and asked if we were buckled and ready for takeoff. As the plane gained speed and the nose lifted, I felt the familiar tug at my stomach. We had minor turbulence until we rose above the main current of wind, and then we sailed smoothly over the dry land, passing the occasional oasis or small town. We flew along the Nile for a few miles and as we began to descend, the pilot turned us slightly west of the river.
The touch down was rocky but when we slowed to a stop, Elena as I now know her disengaged the doors and climbed out. An assistant with the air company helped those in the middle seats to step down and then walked around to me. He had dark skin and rough hands. Probably a hard worker. I couldn't find my phone so I told him and Dr. Rane that I was looking and it would only be a second.
When I finally spotted it at the bottom of my backpack, I looked up and saw the only door to the aircraft swinging closed. Elena was back in her seat, and I could see Lane turning quickly at the sound of the door. He ran towards the plane as the engine turned over and started yelling, "What are you doing! She's still in there! Brice! BRICE!"
I reached for the door and started to pry it open but it was latched on the outside too. I banged on the door and called out, "Lane, Dr. Rane, what's going on?"
Mike and Emily were cupping their hands around their mouths and yelling, while Lane banged on the pilot's window.
I shook her arm and yelled at her but she wouldn't turn towards me and just kept driving forward.
After a few seconds, Lane's shouts and blows were drowned out by the plane's noises as the propellors spun fast and faster and he had to run back.
I began to panic. We were really rolling, and when I glanced over my shoulder, the worker from before pushed me back in my seat and strapped me in forcefully. He clapped a hand over my mouth and I gasped in surprise. My vision started to fade, I could smell something very sharp, and eventually I was unconscious.
***
I've been sitting in this circle of lawn chairs for an hour now, and every few minutes someone new comes out of the house and sits down. The twins are still on either side of me, Elena still trying to calm me down and make small talk, and the young man never speaking. Some of the children are still sitting but many of them are playing with a new soccer ball right inside the stone wall, away from the circle. An older woman sat down too, followed by several older men, some girls my age, a middle aged couple, and three men in their twenties. All of them stared at me when they sat down, and I could feel their eyes roving over my white t-shirt and dri-fit khaki shorts.
I started to realize that many of these people looked very similar.
Kidnapping must be a family affair here.
A thousand ways to possibly escape ran through my head, all of them leading to me dead in the middle of the desert.
A young man walked out from around the big house and sat directly across from me. He was the same one who shoved me in the plane and had probably knocked me out with chloroform. He had blood-shot eyes, those weathered hands, and a scar that ran from his collar bone into his shirt.
He caught me glaring at him, nodded at me, and then glanced away as if this was a casual gathering.
Finally the last seat was filled by the oldest man in the circle, probably the patriarch of this family. He had a long, trimmed salt-and-pepper beard, appeared to be in his 70s, had dark eyes, and walked with a cane. When he walked out of the house, everyone got silent.
"Good evening my friends and family," he said slowly and carefully in Arabic, much like The Godfather would, only with a middle eastern accent. In my travels, I've gotten a basic understanding of the language. "It's very pleasant to see you all again and the next few days will be very special for our people."
He started speaking quickly then, which made me think he didn't want me to know what was happening. I was very curious to know what was so 'special' and why I had to be a part of it. I hope these people aren't cannibals.
I had always loved Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal Lector, but I didn't want to die in that way. To be be eaten is a terrible way to die, I think.
I saw a small movement out of the corner of my eye and when I glanced left, the male twin was looking at me with deep pain in his face. As soon as he saw me turn, he looked away, but I was all of a sudden very troubled about my future and what would happen to me.
The cannibalism didn't seem so funny anymore.
As the old man spoke, I felt for my phone in my pockets, trying not to be too suspicious, when I recalled that it had been in my backpack moments before I was taken. I didn't find my phone but I did find the Swiss Army knife my mom had gotten me years before. I decided I would pull it as soon as I wasn't outnumbered, and as long as they kept me unchained. That was another mystery of the day. I'm obviously their prisoner, and yet no one is tying me down in a dungeon.
After a few minutes, the older men and women in the circle start talking to the patriarch one at a time. It sounded a lot like waging to me. Each time someone started speaking, they got more and more agitated and kept glancing over at me before saying more or holding up their fingers.
One couple yelled louder than all the rest and seemed very eager to make their point. People started standing up and gesturing between me and the patriarch, their eyes wide with an animal sort of hunger. I didn't understand any of it. I couldn't pick up on their quick words, and the young man next to me seemed just as agitated except that he was trying to contain it, sitting in his chair. He, his twin, and my male kidnapper across from me were the only members of our circle of chairs not holding up their fingers. Instead, the rough-handed man was concentrating hard, with his eyebrow furrowed, staring at his feet. He twisted his hands and cocked his ears towards whoever was arguing the loudest.
I saw a woman point at me, flash her open hand twice, and then point at herself and all at once I realized that the different members of this family were bidding.
They were bidding for.... me? For my life? my body? My possessions? My family has alot of money but i don't know how they'd know that. What I did know Was that i needed to throw up right then.
I stood up and walked a few feet, dizzy, and my head spinning. I could hear everyone behind me get quiet but I didn't care if they were watching me.
I felt a hand on my shoulder but I shoved it away and threw up right in their very nice yard. The person standing next to me spoke loudly and quickly to the group and probably to the patriarch in their language, though my ears were buzzing so loudly I couldn't make any of it out, and then turned me towards the house. Whoever had hold of me was strong, but they weren't hurting me as the brutish man had.
They had to drag me back up from the ground a few times, I even tried to dash but took two steps and vomited again, so we just trudged toward the large house with its open air windows and stuccoed walls. They were the color of the wet mud in the sugarcane fields at home.
All of a sudden it struck me that I'd probably never see a sugarcane field again. These people will kill me.
We walked into a large entrance room that was surprisingly very cool. It had a tall ceiling and red-brown walls inside, and was richly furnished.
It occurred to me I still didn't know who was walking...carrying... me across the lush carpet, so I flicked my eyes to the right. The guy from the yard, with the striking blue eyes, had an arm around my shoulders, and the other at my right elbow. He glanced at me and I saw that his eyebrows were knit tightly in worry and fear. I looked away and tried to lift my head.
Towards the back of the entrance hall was a room with thick couches and tapestries on every wall. The guy walked me into the room and to an overstuffed red divan with a sloping back. My legs gave out right as we reached it and I sank into the soft down.
The twin knelt in front of me and look into my face.
"Are you okay?" he said in English with a thick but clear accent. His R's rumble deeply. "I am so, so sorry."
That took me completely by surprise and all I could do for five minutes was stare at him and try to figure out what was going on.
When I didn't come to any conclusions I asked, "where in the hell am I and why did you take me? Let me leave."
He shook his head and looked down and when he raised his head again he said, "my name is Ravi, I'm so sorry you're here."
"You didn't answer me! Why am I here!!!?"
He started rummaging through a pack at his side and took out bandages and cream and applied them to my scrapes and bruises on my legs. I had brush burned knees and a bruise blooming on my thigh.
My thoughts were like a tornado and I couldn't understand why this guy and every other kidnapper outside was a part of this manic scheme.
Ravi finished cleaning my legs with hydrogen peroxide (did that come from my backpack?), and gave me a wet towel.
"Do you want to wash your face?" He asked.
I didn't answer, I snatched the towel away and mopped the sweat and dust from my head and neck.
Ravi just stared at me and I couldn't decide what to think about him. Why is he kind? Why is he a part of this if he's sorry I am here? I wonder just how guilty he is.
"Ravi let me leave."
He looked up at me and instead of confusion I saw a look of deep concentration.
"I can tell you're different from those people. No one has to know what's happening here," I begged.
What is happening here?
"No I really cannot. I'm sorry."
...
"What is your name?"
Like hell.
"Why would I tell you that." I remarked
"You don't have to, I understand." He said low, and although there is no possible way he could understand, he sounded sincere.
"Would you like to sleep or eat something?"
What a nice prison.
"I'm fine, I'll just stay-"
I was interrupted by the soft curtain in the doorway pulling aside and Elena speaking to Ravi in Arabic.
In my work in Egypt and Northern Africa,
I have learned some of the language, but this dialect is very difficult to understand. This is definitely to their advantage.
I did pick up one word though, pounds, their currency.
That confirms my suspicion. I feel queasy again but swallow it down. What in the hell am I gonna do?
YOU ARE READING
Sand
Science FictionNancy is a lively young woman with a heart for service. She came to Egypt to help the people of the Nile, but when she is kidnapped and taken to the middle to the desert, her world and everything she knew before this trip comes crumbling down. Who...
