Chapter 40: Masks Part 3
Andrea sat in the darkness of her tent, belly squirming, trying to think tactically.
The Ethlek had put her under tent-arrest. Trals had abandoned her. Why had she ever trusted that dickhead? When was she going to learn?
Around and around her thoughts scampered, while outside the tent, people shouted and stomped. Andrea squinted, as if that would help her listen better.
That was the word for smoke. She knew the hell out of that word. And...enemy? Enemies? And that bellowing was a triceratops being driven somewhere it didn't want to go. Into the forward defensive arc, probably.
There was an army coming, a host big enough for the Ethlek to see either their dust or the smoke from their march. Could the angry natives be trailing after Chris's chopper? Or were they just buddies of the caravaneers? Or some other group of people Trals had pissed off. That list was probably a long one.