Cress

Chapter 16

          Thorne passed the makeshift cane to his opposite  side   so   he could   hold 
        Cress's elbow as they stepped  out  onto  the   sand. She kept  her  head  down, 
        carefully choosing reach step but also afraid that  if  she  looked  up  into  the
        sky,  her  legs would  freeze   beneath  her  and  she  would  never  be  able  to
         make them  move  again.
                  When  they'd  gone  a  safe   distance  from   satellite,  Cress tentatively  
               lifted her gaze. Ahead of her was the same eternal  landscape, the  sky
         growing  darker.
                She glanced back toward the satellite, and gasped.
                Thorne's hand squeezed her elbow.
                "There are mountains," she said, gaping at the jagged peaks  along   the
              horizon.
                     He squinted. "Mountains, or glorified hills?"
                     She considered  the  question, comparing the site before her with  the
           photos  of mountain ranges she'd seen on the  screens. Dozens  of  peaks  of 
           varying  heights disappeared into the blackness of night.
                 "I think  ... real mountains," she said."But it's getting dark, and I  can't
               see  any white on top. Do mountains always have snow?"
                    "Not always. How far are they?"

  
                 "Um..." they seemed  close,  but  the  foothills  and  sand dunes  between
            them could have been deceiving, and she'd never been asked to  judge  dis-
            tances  before.
                   "Never  mind."  Thorne  tapped  the  cane  against  the  ground. It  stirred 
              something in Cress's gut when  he  didn't  let  go   of   her   arm,   though  per-
                haps  he  appreciated the tethering sensation as much as she did. "What
               direction are  they in?"
                        She took his hand and pointed. Her  heart  was   fluttering   erratically 
               and  she  felt herself  trapped  between  elation   and  terror. Even  from  this
               distance, she   could   tell  that  the  mountains were   enormous—hulking,
               ancient beasts  lined  up  like  an impenetrable  wall dividing   this  waste
               land. But  at  least  they  were  something,  a physical, visual marker to  break
                up  the  monotony  of  the  desert. They  somehow calmed her, even while
               making her feel as insignificant as ever.
                        "So that must be ... south, right?" He pointed   in  another  direction.
                  "The  sunset over there?"
                      She followed his gesture, where a faint green  light  could    still be  seen 
                   over  the rolling dunes, fading fast. "Yes,"  she  said,  a shaky  smile  stretch-
                  ing  across  her lips. Her first true sunset. She'd never known sunsets
      could   be   green,  had  never known just how quickly the darkness set  in.
Her  thoughts   hummed  as  she  tried to pull together every minute detail,
to store this  moment  safely  away  in  a   place where she would never, ever
       forget. Not  the  way  the  light  turned  dull  and  hazy above the desert. Not
the way the stars emerged from the  black.  Not   the  way  her instincts kept
  her gaze from wandering too far  up  into  the  sky, keeping  her  panic at
  bay.
      "Do you see any plant life? Anything other than sand and moun-
        tains?"
           "Not  from  here. But  I  can  hardly  see  anything..."  even  as  they spoke
         the blackness was taking over,  the  once-golden  sand  turning into  shad-
    ows   beneath her feet. "There's our parachute," she added, noting  the
   deflated  white fabric  that stretched out over a sand dune. It  was  already 
    being  swallowed  up  by  the  shifting sands. A trench had been carved into
   the dune where  the  satellite had  hit  and slid down.