Chapter 6: The Ashfords - Ⅰ
—7 July 2023—
—(4 months before the annual meeting)—
Israel. Southern Israel. Typically, the further south you get down in Israel, the less amount of people you encounter, as customarily, the majority of the population lives in the many cities in Central and Northern Israel.
But today is a special day.
Today marks the beginning of an expansive multi-national scientific archaeological mining expedition into the heart of the Negev Desert. As the convoy of assorted mining and transport vehicles snakes its way through the barren yet breathtaking landscape, a sense of palpable anticipation hangs thick in the air.
Idle chatter and laughter intermingle with the rumble of engines, creating a cacophony of sound against the backdrop of the spacious terrain.
As far as the eye can see, undulating dunes rise and fall, their golden hues shimmering in the relentless sun. The contours of the seas of sand are occasionally broken apart by the varying and random rocky hills and the rarer oases of water, that give life and sustenance to the local living fauna and flora, amidst the arid expanse.
A lone coyote pauses, its curiosity piqued by the distant rumble of seemingly a thousand engines. With a wary glance, it scampers away, instinctively seeking refuge from the completely alien disturbance.
At the forefront of the convoy, a black rugged 4x4 truck, coated in a deep blanket of dust collected by local winds, plows through the soft sand, leaving behind deep tracks in its rear.
Following closely behind, a line of vehicles stretches out far into the distance. Other dust-coasted trucks, SUVs, and jeeps fill the majority of the convoy, their frames adorned with spare fuel cans and various equipment, to make both their journey and operation as comfortable as possible.
In the centre of the convoy, lies the stomach. Several large semi-trucks carrying long lines of trailers carry the main logistics of the fleet. Filled to the brim with tents, water, food, and comforts. No detail has been overlooked in the preparations for this venture. Those few trucks house enough supplies for a caravan triple its size.
At the tail end of the fleet, the heaviest vehicles make their presence known with a deep grumble. Large buses filled with people and vehicles specialising in carrying other smaller vehicles, the sort you'd find in large-scale excavation and mining sites.
"-rew.'
"-drew."
"Andrew!" An impatient call awakens the glasses-wearing boy, he jolts forward in a cold sweat, and his eyes flutter violently awake as if he just woke from a terrible nightmare. He blinks, disoriented, before glancing over to the seat directly ahead of himself, scowling at the one that woke him from his hibernation.
"Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, sa-"
"If you utter one more line from that stupid game, I will delete all your save files," Andrew warns, cutting her off, his fatigue ever evident in his voice.
She gasps in exaggerated shock. "You wouldn't do that to your favorite sister! Right?"
"You're my only sister. Thus, you're also my least favorite sister." he deadpans, his patience wearing thin.
"You're not supposed to say that, you're supposed to say: 'I would never do that to my precious Sarah!'" Sarah deepens her voice in an attempt to mimic his voice.
"You sound gay, I wanna go back to sleep." he yawns and stretches, and closes his eyes before slumping back into his seat.
"That's supposed to be you though! So you just called yourself ga-" One of Andrew's eyes snapped open, shutting her up.
An amused giggle escaped from Sarah's mouth before she leaned her head against the bus's unstabilized window, letting her head bounce rather violently but rhythmically against the pane, in sync with the bumpy path the vehicle was forced to take.
The hum of the engine was soothing, and the random chatter of their colleagues filling the coach's cabin served as an excellent white noise for one to fall asleep to; she perfectly understood why her brother felt as lethargic as he did, especially with how busy he'd been. Deep within herself, she felt the same sense of drowsiness as him.
Seemingly having had enough of the constant minor concussions she was giving herself, her attention came back to her older brother. His long blonde hair, usually tied back, lay messily in front of his face, obscuring any hint of emotions resting on his features.
"Do I have something on my face?" he murmured, half asleep already, but just aware enough to notice her stare.
"Hair, a lot of it. You need a haircut, you look like a bum." She comments, sharing her thoughts.
Andrew responds with a noncommittal hum, too exhausted to engage in further conversation. Content to bask in the tranquility of the moment.
Sarah looks back out the window, in her reflection, her own blonde hair, cut just above her shoulders, greets herself. Her soft red eyes cast a harmonising gradient over the sea of golden sand, her mind drifting with the shifting sands. A ray of sunlight washes over her features, a parallel to the hope that began to settle into her eyes.
"Andrew." she whispers, her voice barely audible above the hum of the engine.
As if he was never exhausted in the first place, he sits up and leans forward, taking in her side profile as she continues to idly observe the passing by gold.
"We're almost there, we've almost found it haven't we? Just a little bit more and we'll finally uncover it all, right?" She pivots her head to face him once more, and an expectant look fills her face, demanding an answer.
The older brother takes a moment to read his younger sibling's expression. He already knows that she knows the answer to her own question. Dutifully upholding his role as an older brother, he finally answers.
Andrew's red eyes sharpen.
"Yeah."
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Reprobate
Reprobate This story has two perspectives. And while it mostly revolves around Arthur—since he's the MC, duh, it will have occassional pov's of normies and how they are dealing with things.
Since the scale of the impact of whatever is happening is on a macroscale. God, I yap a lot. Anyways, that's it for the author comment. Cheers.
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