46
Lincoln
Moments later, I balance on the bottom curve of the Pterodactyl’s claw as it carries me over undulating sheets of emerald sand. Myla stands beside me. The vague scent of charcoal hangs in the air. Wind roars in my ears. The morning sun sears onto my skin. Below, the desert resembles a green ocean that somehow froze. Curling dunes line up like waves heading toward an unseen shore, yet never moving any closer.
The image arrests me. A frozen sea is similar to me and Myla in this moment. We move toward a goal, yet at the same time, we’re stuck with no progress.
I watch the sands speed beneath me and consider our situation. These Reptilians simply must take the threat of the Contagion seriously. There aren’t an unlimited number of chances to stop this monster.
The Pterodactyl wi
