"Looks like a sandstorm is brewing in the northwest," Alex shouted.
It's a long way off, thought Scarlet. I wish she would shut up.
They'd been traveling four days. Four days of boring travel. A lot of small-talk. Scarlet had kept to herself. There was no need for team-building or inspirational speeches. The mission was simple and straightforward. Daring? Sure. Dangerous? Yes. But simple.
It was Kora's job to get Scarlet safely to the Royal District.
It was Scarlet's job, once inside, and once to the Royal Palace, to assassinate Tomás.
Scarlet only need be concerned with herself, her ability, and no one else.
Felicity had asked her to take this mission after Scarlet and a group of her rebel friends had kidnapped the Minister of the Armory and had run the train from the armory to safety, which was no small feat. Felicity had learned about Scarlet's skill with a rifle.
Scarlet had asked: "Is there no one in the Resistance who can shoot better than I?"
"If there were," Felicity answered, "I would be talking to them. I've never seen anyone shoot like you. In my life."
Scarlet had accepted the mission, because what else did she have to do?
At the time, she'd had no reservations.
Now, she was unsure.
Alex dropped from the crow's nest, landed right in front of her on the planked floor. Scarlet let out a small scream at the sudden appearance of Alex.
Alex didn't acknowledge the fright. She said: "Of course the word brewing may not be the correct word. It does make me want coffee, though. You think TJ is keeping some warm?"
"Only one way to find out," Scarlet said with a sigh, then moved past Alex, annoyed.
Why did they have to bring on that woman? She had more energy than a human being is supposed to have. She drank coffee as if it were tap water.
Still, Scarlet thought about what Alex had just done—dropped from the crow's nest. A seventy-five foot drop. Scarlet was fine with thirty foot drops. She was intimidated by fifty foot drops. Seventy-five was actually impressive. And Alex had made it look easy. And she didn't need to be acknowledged. Never needed to be acknowledged. Was unabashedly herself.
Scarlet went to the side of the boat, leaned against the waist-high inner wall. Looked out at the storm to see if it was as bad as Alex's tone of voice had indicated.
Couldn't tell.
Scarlet wasn't well-traveled.
Didn't know much about sandstorms or any kind of weather beyond the basic weather she'd experienced in the small town she'd lived in her entire life.
In four days, they hadn't seen much.
This first stretch of their three-week journey had been desert. Hot, weather-beaten, cactus-ridden, sandy, sandy, very sandy desert. They hadn't hit a sandstorm yet; nonetheless, there was sand in the air, all about, all the time. Even when you couldn't see it, it was there. Scarlet always had that slight taste of sand in her mouth and an itchy throat. Wine helped cut through the itchiness, a little bit. A carbonated drink would work better, but they had none. Too expensive. The Resistance had had the choice between stocking the boat with wine or carbonation; they chose wine.
Perhaps TJ was a deciding factor, since he was the cook. He could cook with wine as well as drink a glass each night, as he did. Scarlet had shared a glass with him every night of the last four nights, just the two of them. They didn't talk. Only sat there in silence.
TJ had been through a lot: had lost his wife and family to disease. When he did speak, he often spoke of them—as if they were still alive.
Scarlet was an orphan, had been for most of her life. In general, she didn't have much to live for. Neither did he, but she respected him for waking up each day and going through a daily routine. Cooking the crew breakfast. Keeping the coffee warm. Keeping the kitchen clean.
He stuck to the kitchen, only venturing out to sweep the deck, kick up a bunch of dust into the air.
Scarlet admired TJ's sense of humor and smile. He cracked jokes throughout the day, and smiled if you returned the humor. Scarlet, since the Armory mission, had been humorless. She had a hard time summoning any desire to make jokes. At the same time, she didn't want to seem boring or uninterested. So she kept to herself.
Slowly, she could see the storm forming in the distance. Once they got through this desert, they would enter a more vertiginous region, according to Kora.
*****
Alex had noted Scarlet's annoyance.
Alex tried to stay out of her way, but she also believed that a smile could help the young woman. Alex felt like she'd been there, where Scarlet was at in her heart. Alex was a few years older than Kora and Scarlet, felt like she could be there for them in certain ways. She would continue to try to cheer up Scarlet, despite Scarlet's protests.
As Alex walked towards the back of the ship, she spit onto the deck, spitting out some dust she'd gotten in her mouth from being up in the crow's nest.
She pushed through the double-doors, into the atrium, then took the winding staircase, TIGHT, down to the kitchen. She could smell the coffee already.
TJ smiled when she arrived: "Coffee, I presume?"
Alex smiled.
"I keep it hot for you," he said. "You drink even more than Kora."
"Yay for me."