Sandstorm
“UNDERGROUND SAFIA HURRIED down the spiraling ramp, leading the others. The crash above them had thrown them into a panic. Debris rolled and skittered from above: glass, rocks, even a broken rim of metal. The last had rolled like a child’s hoop, skimming around the spiral, through the mass of folk in flight, and down into the depths.
Omaha followed it with his flashlight until it vanished. The noise above subsided, echoing away.
“What happened?” Safia asked.
Omaha shook his head. “Painter, I guess.”
Kara marched on her other side. “Barak and Coral went back to check.”
Behind them marched Danny and Clay, backs loaded with gear. They held flashlights. Clay held his with both hands, as if it were a lifeline. Safia doubted he’d ever volunteer for a field expedition again.
Beyond them marched the Rahim, similarly encumbered with supplies and packs.
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