The Singing Sands

A flash of colour and the crackle of lightning are the last things you remember before dust clouded your vision. You clamber to your feet and survey your surroundings. Sand as far as you can see, and an eerie song on the wind. Wherever you came from doesn't matter now. All that matters if you're here, you are low on supplies and the air is getting hotter as the minutes pass. It's time to move.  Th…