Swirling sand, screaming wind, and a hundred new aches and pains attacking his body every minute. Dave's mind became a spinning blurr, a blank. Fighting instinct kept him clutching the wheel and guiding the scout car ever northward. Fighting instinct and a will-power of iron refused to permit him to brake the car to a halt and sink exhausted down onto the floor of the car out of the swirling sand and the cutting wind. He lost all track of time. Time even ceased to exist. It was as though the howling, screaming sand storm had always been about him, and always would be. There was no end. Everything would be like this forever and ever.
"Dave! Dave, come out of it! Dave, wake up. The storm's over. It's gone. Dave, look at me. Look at me!"
From a thousand miles away he heard Freddy Farmer's voice droning in his ears. His pal was punching his shoulder, grabbing hold of him and shaking him violently. Through sand-burned eyelids he stared fixedly at a limitless expanse of desert stretching out ahead of him. Suddenly, something seemed to let go of his brain and he realized what it all meant.
The car wasn't moving. The engine had stopped. The desert storm had passed on and was now blotting out the sun in the western sky. The desert was the desert again. He turned his head slowly and stared at Freddy. It was like looking at a ghost. The English youth was covered with fine white sand dust from head to toe. It was caked in his hair, caked on his face, and was sticking like a layer of white glue to his tattered uniform.
"Dave, are you all right?" Freddy gasped, and shook him again. "You've been driving for fifteen minutes as though you were hypnotized, just clinging to that wheel for dead life and staring straight ahead. I had to switch off the ignition to stop the car. You were absolutely deaf to every word I said. Are you all right?"
"Sure, I'm okay," Dave heard his own voice say. "Gosh! Driving with my eyes open? Holy smoke! The last thing I remember was driving blind with my eyes shut and my head ducked down. And, hey, it must be late afternoon. That storm lasted for hours. Wonder where we are?"
"I don't know," Freddy said. "But we're headed north, anyway. The sun's over there on our left, so we must be headed north. Phew! How you were able to keep on driving through that inferno I don't know. I ducked down on the floor, and just didn't have the strength to get up and give you a hand. You must be made of steel, Dave!"
"I sure don't feel as if I were right now," Dave said, and grinned, stiff-lipped. "But let's get going again. The ground seems to rise up quite a bit just ahead there. Maybe we'll see something on the other side. Boy, oh boy, do I hope it's something besides desert."
"If it isn't, I swear I'll go stark raving mad," Freddy muttered. "If I never see a desert again that'll be much too soon."
"You and me both," Dave grunted and started the engine again. "So cross your fingers, Freddy, and pray hard. Here we go for the top of that rise!"