Bones in the Sand, Julie Steimle [best books to read for students .TXT] 📗

him. Stirring awake, Zormna nodded to the airline attendant. Then dragging her feet and wiping her eyes, she allowed herself to be led.

"She looks sick," one attendant muttered to the woman that gave them their tickets.

"Really pale. Both of them do," the woman attendant nodded and replied. "I hope her boyfriend gets her home soon. I don't think the cold north does her very well."

They watched the two meander away to the escalators and out of sight.

 

Though they had an hour to wait, Jeff spent it getting something to eat out of the vending machines and keeping Zormna half awake.

"Scrapes, Zormna, I thought military trained people learned how to get up at all hours," he teased, nudging her to wake up and take a package of cheese-and-crackers.

Zormna opened one eye to glare at him. "What can I say? Pennington has spoiled me. I happen to like sleep now."

Jeff laughed quietly. The fact that she had relaxed so much was actually something he was glad about. He let her nap on the bench as he kept an eye out. Besides, he knew only he was used to sleeping with one eye open. Zormna never had to, despite her military training.  

It was still dark when they finally boarded. Several groggy people boarded the plane with them. Some of them were flying the cheapest flights out. The other set of people were the business type transferring flights. They were all talking on their cell phones. This flight was part of a stop-over from New York to the west. Among the crowd boarding were cranky, irritated folk who appeared to be suffering from leg cramps. Jeff hoped he would not have to sit next to any of them. They were shooting his jacket and scars disdainful looks, wondering at Zormna the same time...since she looked to them like a kidnapped elf princess to them.

Zormna awoke enough to stand in line, hardly seeing the looks she got. She handed the stewardess her ticket and shuffled down the ramp to the airplane after Jeff. Jeff led her to their seats and gave her the window seat so she could lean against the wall if she wanted. In most cases she would have been annoyed by the 'coddling' as she had once been a tough soldier. But currently she didn't care at all because she was just so tired. The moment Zormna got into her seat, she snuggled up to the wall with her the pillow and was out of consciousness again. Jeff had to buckle her seatbelt, repressing his amusement. This was as close to girly she ever got.

Jeff looked around one last time just to make sure they had not been followed while the stewardess displayed how to inflate the life preservers that were kept under the seats. There were no watching eyes or suspicious attention that he noticed. He sat down, hoping they had gotten away clean. So far no one from home had called him to tell him he had been seen. So far, everything was going smoothly.

The plane taxied out onto the runway at around five fifteen a.m. At five thirty it was in the air and flying southwestward. At six a.m. it was high above the country, soaring in the icy air. Both Zormna and Jeff slept for another hour and a half before the plane landed in Arizona. By then it was seven thirty seven a.m. in Pennington. While the FBI were staring at their empty houses and the paperboy passing by, the stewardesses were waking the passengers and announcing their arrival at the Phoenix airport.

Zormna blinked and staggered, stepping across the carpeted ramp up to the open glassy windowed lobby, something that she could have sworn had only been part of a dream. She shook her head, trying to remember that early morning, and shook it again, realizing that the sun in the sky was no higher there after three hours sleep than it was in Pennington. Jeff trudged groggily right in front of her, walking across the huge hall full of bolted-down chairs and tired travelers. She took a breath and attempted to clear her head.

Jeff looked back to see if Zormna was following or if she fell asleep on her feet, leaning against a wall. He smirked when he saw her rubbing her eyes and blinking, yet following him dutifully. She looked more awake than she had during the whole trip.

"Come on, let's get our luggage," he said, waving her over toward the baggage claim.

Zormna nodded and trudged with him. As she looked around, she noticed that nearly all the shops around the area were locked up and shut down. It was still early in Arizona. The pleasing thought that they just might get the drop on the FBI at the dig site seemed more plausible than the night before, and she smiled, relaxing.

They located the escalators to the lower floor and rode them down. Jeff surveyed the lay of the airport as they descended, not just looking for agents, but also for directional signs. Neither of them had flown before on the public airways, and some of the signage was unfamiliar. And as they reached the floor below, both individuals shared looks of panic that they wouldn't be able to get their bags back.

"Lost?" a portly woman in a neatly pressed blue uniform asked.

Jeff blinked at her, trying not to stare at her giggling cheeks, and replied, "Uh, yes. Which way do we get our luggage?"

The woman smiled with a strain of amusement, condescension in her eyes. "See that sign?" She pointed up to the sign that hung over their heads, which they had both missed. It had an arrow on it with the words: Baggage Claim.

Zormna and Jeff both nodded.

"Good." She bobbed her head and smiled, talking to them like she was talking to two very silly children. "Then follow that sign to the baggage claim. That's where you pick up your baggage."

Irritated, Jeff also felt stupid, but took her directions politely. However, Zormna scowled at her as she followed him.

"Honestly, people really shouldn't expect half-awake travelers to see everything," Zormna muttered as she marched away from the lady.

Jeff smirked silently, not answering. He didn't really think that was why they didn't see the sign, but he decided not to argue with Zormna or she would get even crankier.

The baggage claim area wasn't far. It was easy to find where their bags had been sent. Their backpacks were already spinning on the baggage wheel when they arrived. Jeff hefted both off to the floor before Zormna could get to her own. Glowering at him, she picked up her bag and hoisted it on her back then glanced around the near empty, yet huge, transit hall. Zormna let out a sigh.

"Where do we go from here?" she muttered.

With another look over the foot traffic in the baggage claim area, Jeff gestured for them to head to the. "I phoned my contact here. He was supposed to arrange a ride for us, but I don't have a clue what he looks like."

"So where do we meet him?" Zormna gazed across the room full of people then glanced at the security officers as they passed them to the doors toward the outside loading area. A cold dread that the FBI might still be watching them in spite of their efforts to lose them raced through her skin. It was improbable, but she could not count it out.

"Are you Jeff?" a thick deep voice asked him from behind on the street.

Both Zormna and Jeff spun around. They both stared at a tattooed, tan and gristly-brown bearded biker built like a shaved grizzly bear.

Jeff nodded, staring at him inspectingly.

The man laughed and patted both teenagers on their shoulders.

"Great! I thought you looked like Dan's kid. Come on you two. I have space for you both out in the parking garage." The man dragged both of them forward, grinning and laughing like he had collected an amusing find.

"Uh, where is my dad?" Jeff ventured to ask with a guess. Zormna shot him a look, mostly wondering what lie he had spun to get them this mildly worrying escort. Jeff had the strangest contacts through the rebellion, most of which were skilled at convincing regular Earth folk to go along with their schemes without realizing they were being used. She admired it and was wary of it at the same time.

The biker looked a little sad while thinking Jeff's question over and shrugged. "Well, you know your pop. He's off on the open road, making tracks and making history. He told me to pick you up and leave you with your camping group in the desert. Your old man said he might meet you there, but you know him..."

Jeff managed a weak laugh and glanced across at Zormna. She had managed not to look utterly repulsed by the stranger's odor and garb, but she was not enjoying being pushed and dragged around. He could see her struggle not to lose her temper and push back.

"Who are you?" Zormna at last exclaimed, her other thoughts inappropriate to vocalize.

With a loud laugh, the man laughed stopped his march. "Of course! I clean forgot. I'm Minas. The guys call me Major Minas, but you can call me Mike."

Jeff caught a laugh and tried to swallow it.

Zormna stood back, pushing his hands off her. "Ok, Mike, can we at least go somewhere to eat before we take off over the desert?"

Minas laughed again as he wrapped his arm around Zormna with a heavy pat on her far shoulder. "My Jeff, you got yourself some piece of sassy pie for a girlfriend." Then he continued to laugh, steering them onward.

He had led them outside the doors to the pickup lane in the parking garage. Where five large Harley Davidson bikes with six frighteningly tattooed people sat astride, grinning while they guarded a fifth bike, which must have belonged to Minas. The large biker walked over to the one motorcycle and threw his leg over.

"Come on, missie. You'll ride with me. Jeff can ride with ol' Bill there," Minas said, waving with his arm.

A thin man with a graying long beard waved to Jeff with a patchy, toothless smile. Zormna glanced at Jeff and bit her lip. With a shrug, Jeff waved her over to Minas while carrying his backpack to Bill's bike and climbing on.

"What's wrong, dearie? You ain't never been on a bike before?" Minas asked, grinning. Zormna could see one of his teeth was gold. The rest were yellow-stained from smoking, especially one spot. She could smell it on him.  

"She's been on a bike before," Jeff said. Then he whispered to her, "Zormna, just get on."

Zormna shot him the dirtiest look, but she climbed astride. The seat was a bit high for her to throw her leg over, and she had to wear her backpack. Her feet didn't exactly fit on the foot rests, so she had to cling tight to Minas' jacket and clench the seat with her legs. There wasn't a backrest or sissy-bar. It was obvious that Minas didn't often take riders with him.

Minas turned around with a look at her she would have love to have removed with one good punch. "All ready?"

Zormna nodded sullenly as it was not the appropriate time to disembowel a dirty old man.

Jeff nodded from Bill's motorcycle. "Ready, Mike."

The gang laughed when Jeff called him Mike, but Minas beamed at them.

"Alright then, how about we go to Denny's to eat. The little miss here is hungry. It must have been a barren flight I 'spect." Minas chortled and the rest joined him.

Zormna rolled her eyes at being made fun of but was glad inside because it was quite near eight o'clock in Pennington and she was starving.

Professor Pratte opened his door at eight a.m. He was usually the first one up. Mostly, he loved to breathe in the cold air in the morning. It left him a brisk feeling which made him feel energized.

"Shut