The Red Rock

Chapter 7: The Storm

We agreed to set up camp, but Jarek had his own plan.

“If I don’t return in two days, I’m dead. Then you can go back.”

With those words, he shouldered his AK-X and rode off alone into the desert.

We stayed behind and worked on securing the site. The Interstellars had left behind a valuable probe—

an advanced multi-billion-dollar machine designed to measure Mars’ vital signs: seismic pulses, heat

distribution, magnetic fields. It was the kind of tech that could help expand the TMP colony’s

infrastructure by decades.

“This is why they chose this spot,” Vanessa muttered. “No radio interference.”

“Too bad they couldn’t call for backup when they needed it,” Tyron added bitterly.

“Is it working?” I asked.

Gerry crouched by the probe. “Nah. High-tech stuff. Probably needs diagnostics we don’t have.”

“Hit it with a shovel,” I said flatly.

“What?” Gerry blinked.

“Just give it a good whack.”

He gave me a look, then shrugged and smacked the probe. To everyone’s shock, the machine sputtered

and came to life—drilling and chirping as though rebooted.

The crew cheered.

“That’s one hell of a charmingly rudimentary fix, Boss,” Gerry grinned.

“Brute force still has its place on Mars,” I chuckled.

Then Vanessa pointed.

“Hey… look.”

A big red cloud loomed in the distance.

“That storm is moving toward us,” Gerry said, his voice tightening.

Tyron scanned it. “Still far out. We’ll be gone before it reaches here.”

---

That night, while I slept in my Terrapod, a loud banging woke me—the sound of cargo boxes slamming

against the pod walls.

I grabbed my comms device.

“Wake up, guys! The storm’s here!”

I threw on my suit. The noise outside was deafening.

As I stepped out, a powerful gust ripped the Terrapod clean off the ground and flung it into the

darkness. I dropped low, crawling across the sand.

“Get out! Stay low!” I shouted into the comms.

Visibility dropped to zero. Dust and wind roared in all directions. Equipment was scattered. Lights gone.

The RTG blew skyward, crashing into a rover—and detonating. A fireball rolled with the wind.

“Are you guys okay?!” I yelled.

No response. The sand static was interfering with comms.

The wind pressed down in short, sharp bursts. I kept my body low, dragging myself inch by inch.

“The probe!” I shouted. “Get to the probe!”

It was the only object still anchored. Its massive anvil was drilled deep into the ground.

As I crawled, I saw shadows behind me—Vanessa, Tyron, and Gerry—all struggling to follow.

We collapsed behind the probe, huddled together as the storm ripped around us.

“Boss!” Vanessa cried. “You think the storm got him?”

“There’s no way he survived this!” Gerry shouted.

The storm howled into the night.

---

By morning, it had passed.

The red clouds settled quickly, revealing devastation.

We emerged from behind the probe. Only a few crates of ammo and two half-buried bikes remained.

Everything else—gone.

Gerry collapsed, sobbing. “We’re fucked!”

I fell to my knees, screaming into the empty wind.

The others stood in stunned silence, eyes wide, hearts sinking.

Moments later, we gathered what we had left—guns, bikes, and our battered resolve.

 I stood and said what we were all thinking:

“We’re on our own. Jarek is dead.”