Salem had grown up in the desert. He didn't dare to say that he knew everything about the desert, but he knew at least 70% to 80% of it. But when it came to the sea … he knew very little, and he didn't think he needed to know more. The sea would keep you afloat, and you just had to know how to swim. Under the guidance of his cousin, he learned to swim in a few hours. As his cousin had praised him, he learned things very quickly.
Anyway, he wasn't going to work on an ocean ship. He was just surfing at the beach. Was it necessary to know more about the sea?
The harmattan wind wasn't strong. It was fierce because it rolled up a lot of floating sand from the Sahara and Libyan deserts. Otherwise, it wouldn't have formed such a magnificent wall of sand. If it were in another place, without the vast desert to provide this floating sand, the harmattan wind would only be regarded as an ordinary monsoon and wouldn't have a unique name at all.
Of course, even if the strength of the harmattan wind wasn't super strong, it was at least a strong wind. The sea had waves when there was no wind, and when there was a storm, the waves would add fuel to the fire.
When Salem was paddling, he already felt that the waves were getting fiercer. Obviously, the high tide had stopped, and it was in a stable low tide period, but the rolling waves were like the high tide again.
Although the high tide in the Mediterranean Sea was a lot less than the high tide in the open sea, with the help of the wind, the power was already greater than usual.
Strangely, there was a small area of the sea that seemed relatively calm. The surface of the sea only rose and fell slightly. Compared to the surroundings, it could be called heaven.
Salem didn't suspect anything. At this time, he didn't have time to think too much, so he paddled hard in that direction.
He didn't think that he might encounter any danger. First, he could swim, and second, he was lying on the surfboard. The surfboard itself provided a strong buoyancy, so even people who didn't know how to swim wouldn't drown on it.
Twenty meters … ten meters … five meters …
The wind and waves were getting stronger, but they were not beyond his control. He was not directly affected by the wind, but his vision was indeed getting more and more limited. The scenery on the shore became blurred, shrouded in the yellow sandstorm. He didn't know if the person who had been wandering on the shore and the black-and-white kitten had left.
Finally, he paddled hard one last time, and the surfboard pierced into the calm sea. The waves were much smaller, and his whole body relaxed, feeling a little weak in both arms.
He lay on the surfboard and panted heavily, waiting for his strength to recover. He also hoped that the storm would pass quickly so that he could continue surfing.
This area of the sea was really too calm. It even gave people the illusion that it was okay to lie on a surfboard, just like those foreign girls in bikinis basking in the sun by the swimming pool of a luxury hotel.
Salem turned his head sideways, facing the direction of the sea, with the back of his head facing the storm. This way, he could breathe normally in the storm and not get his mouth filled with sand.
He did not rest for long, or at least he thought so. He took a deep breath and turned to look at the shore to see if there was any sign of the storm stopping.
However, he was immediately stunned, because the direction of the shore was dusky yellow, and he couldn't see the shore at all.
Even if the scenery was blurry just now, he could at least see the outline of the shore!
What was going on?
His first thought was that the surfboard had been blown off course by the wind. What he saw was actually the sea, but the shore was in the other direction.
So he squinted and looked in front of him, behind him, left, and right, but in each direction, it was the same scenery — the blue sea and the dusky air.
The tribal legends that he had heard when he was a child flashed through his mind like lightning. When travelers in the desert encountered harmattan winds, they felt that the wind was not too strong, so they continued to move forward. However, they soon completely lost their way and finally entered the depths of the desert. They never came out of the desert again, and no one saw them.
Salem suddenly panicked. He had always thought that this was the sea, not the desert, but now he realized that the sea was just a desert formed by drops of seawater, a desert of water.
He knew how to identify directions in the desert, how to find water, and how to survive in an emergency, but this was the sea, a completely new form of desert. All his previous experience was invalid.
"Calm down! Don't panic! Think of a way! There must be a way! "
He told himself silently in his heart, but it was useless.
He could no longer hold his breath. His breathing became rapid and heavy, and his blood pressure and heartbeat rose sharply.
He had to find a way back to the shore, or he would also become a lost traveler in the desert.
But where was the shore?
How did he get here?
Perhaps, in fact, he was not too far from the shore. He was still in his previous position, but the reduced visibility made him think that he was far from the shore?
Ironically, the overly calm sea had the opposite effect at this time. He could not judge the direction by the ups and downs of the waves.
Just then, he seemed to hear something. It was very far away, very faint, and could be drowned out by the sound of the waves and the roar of the storm at any time.
He held his breath and listened carefully.
Beep —
Beep —
Yes, it was the sound of a car horn!
Someone was constantly honking. This must be pointing him in the direction of the shore!
He was relieved. The most important thing in the desert was direction, whether it was a desert of sand or a desert of water.
Even if the sound of the horn was faint, as long as he could hear it, it proved that he was not too far from the shore.
He tried not to think about the pessimistic side, such as the fact that the sound of the horn could barely reach here because of the storm blowing from the direction of the land, which proved that he was quite far from the shore.
"Okay, come on!"
He adjusted the direction of the surfboard so that the head of the surfboard was facing the direction of the horn, and paddled with all his might.
The sound of the horn did not stop. The kind-hearted person must have discovered that he was in danger, which gave him great hope.
He did not expect the kind-hearted person to call the police, because it was useless. With Egypt's low police efficiency, when the police arrived … he would save himself.
However, he paddled for three or five minutes. His hands and feet were a little tired, but the sound of the horn did not get closer at all. It seemed to be farther away from him, becoming intermittent.
What was going on?
Had he paddled in the wrong direction?
No, if he had paddled in the wrong direction, he would not have heard the sound of the horn.
Salem thought about it for a moment and felt that he had found the reason — he was like a piece of wood floating on the surface of the water, and the storm was blowing him into the sea.
The efficiency of paddling on the surfboard was very low, and the force of the paddle could not withstand the force of the storm, so this situation was caused.
If he jumped into the water and swam to the shore, his body would be immersed in the water, and only his head would be above the surface of the sea. Wouldn't he be able to avoid the impact of the storm?
He did not think too much, and time did not allow him to think too much, because the tide would ebb after the calm tide. The tide would speed up and take him to the sea, and then he could only be trapped on the surfboard, alone and helpless, waiting for help, who knew how long it would take for it to arrive.
Even if help came soon, he did not want to wait. He did not want to alarm the police, did not want to be the protagonist of the news, did not want to be the object of ridicule by his companions, did not want to lose the opportunity to work … If the police were alarmed, he would definitely be taken back to the tribe by his father, and be trapped in a shack with only four walls for the rest of his life. Like his father, grandfather, and ancestors, he would have to face the yellow sand with his back to the sky, marry a few wives, and have a lot of children. His eyes would gradually become numb and dull, and he would never be able to come to a big city again in this life.
So, almost without thinking, Salem untied the foot rope of the surfboard, took a deep breath, and jumped into the arms of the sea.
He could swim, but as soon as he entered the water, he felt that something was wrong.
The surface of the sea was still so calm, but under the surface, there was an undercurrent surging!
The undercurrent wrapped in a large amount of sand was like a pair of invisible hands, pulling his calves and dragging him in the direction of the open sea. It was extremely powerful, even more powerful than a storm, and it was not something that human strength could resist.
He suddenly understood that it was this invisible undercurrent that had quietly taken him and the surfboard away from the coast. It was like … a moving sand dune in the desert. No, it was even scarier than that.
Salem was alert to the approaching danger, and he used all his strength to paddle desperately. He paddled wildly, but the more anxious he was, the more his swimming movements became, and the more difficult it became to breathe.
His heart was beating so fast that it was about to explode. There seemed to be a fire burning in his chest, and his internal organs were about to be burned to ashes.
Due to excessive tension and overuse of force, the muscles in his legs were trembling, and it seemed that they could spasm at any time.
The sound of the horn had become faint, and it might even be long gone. The sound that remained in his ears might just be an illusion of his survival.
He regretted it. He wanted to go back and find the surfboard, climb back on it, and let the surfboard take him anywhere. It didn't matter if he drifted to the other side of the Mediterranean Sea. Even if he alerted the police, even if he was taken back to the tribe, even if he could never leave the desert again in this life, at least he could survive.
As long as he was alive, there was hope.
However, the sea was vast, and the surfboard had long since disappeared.
Because he stopped paddling to find the surfboard, his legs sank deeper into the water, and the force that was dragging him became stronger. Even if he used all his strength to tread on the water, he could not fight it.
Cough!
A wave slammed down on his head, and he choked on the first mouthful of water, followed by the second …
Driven by his desire to survive, his hands and feet flailed, trying to poke his head out of the water, but it was useless. The force of the turbulence was too strong, and he was pulled deep into the sea by a pair of invisible hands.
The remaining air quickly escaped from his lungs, turning into a string of bubbles that rose to the surface of the sea.
His eyes widened in despair as he watched the light on the water gradually weaken, and his body sank into the endless darkness.
Just as he was about to completely lose consciousness, there seemed to be a streamlined black shadow passing over his head.
What … was that?
Then, his hand was grabbed by another hand that did not belong to him.
In the next second, his consciousness disappeared.
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