Read Online The Warrior Sheep Go West by Christopher Russell - Free Book Online

things couldn’t possibly get worse, they did.
    At first, the breeze was refreshing. Hot but pleasant. It came in little gusts, blowing in the sheep’s faces and ruffling their fleeces. Quickly though, the gusts grew stronger and the pauses between each one shorter. Soon, tufts of spiky grass were being ripped up and bowled along the ground. The sun was blotted out and the sheep felt a hot breath on their fleeces.
    â€œNooo…” wailed Jaycey. “He’scominghe’scominghe’scoming!”
    The breath grew fiercer. The sheep drew closer together. Through half-closed eyes, they could just see Cameron and Phoenix stumbling against the suddenly savage wind.
    â€œThe wind!” exclaimed Sal. “We are where the hottest winds blow! The prophecy is confirmed!”
    â€œGreat to know, man…great to know…” murmured Links.
    The hot breath became a howling, blistering gale, whipping up the sand so that their eyes, noses, and mouths were swiftly and completely clogged. The humans and then the entire world around the sheep disappeared in a gritty, stinging haze. The warriors had no choice. As one, they turned their backs to the sand storm and hunkered down as close to the ground as they could get.
    Gradually, the storm eased. The wind dropped to a breeze again and finally that died away too. Five mounds of storm-driven sand began to move. Five pairs of yellow eyes peered out at the great balls of tumbleweed rolling by in the fading wind. Oxo broke free of his sand hill and snapped hungrily at one of the balls.
    â€œI wouldn’t bother, man.” Links’s voice came from a neighboring mound. “They’s just organic barbed wire.”
    â€œSo what’s not to like?” asked Oxo, who was rather partial to barbed wire, as long as it was crisp and rusty.
    But the tumbleweed proved just as tough and dry and tasteless as everything else he’d tried in the desert. He chewed his own fleece for a bit instead and blamed Red Tongue for everything, which made him feel better.
    Having realized that the storm was over, the other warriors were shaking themselves free of the sand. One by one they stood up, coughing and sneezing. Then the sun reappeared, blazing down on them once more from the harsh blue sky. The silence was as thick as the dust on the warriors’ fleeces. Too weary to speak, they spluttered and choked and plodded on. They’d only gone twenty paces west, however, when they heard a feeble cry behind them.
    â€œHey, guys, wait for us…”
    Turning, they realized they’d forgotten the humans.
    Phoenix and Cameron struggled to their feet, wheezing and wiping sand from their faces. They swayed as they tried to follow the sheep. After a few stumbling paces, Cameron sank to the ground again and rolled on his back, staring at the sky. Phoenix knelt beside him, his own head spinning.
    â€œSorry, Phee…” Cameron’s voice was a whisper. “We’re gonna die and it’s all my fault…”
    Phoenix looked wildly, helplessly around. He knew Cameron was right. They needed water fast. They needed a miracle.
    The sheep plodded back and clustered around, blinking. They all felt dizzy and weak. Dark shadows circling on the sand made Jaycey dizzier than ever.
    â€œOhmygrass…” she whimpered. “What’s that?”
    Squinting upward, they saw two large, gliding birds with black feathers, bald heads, and curved beaks.
    â€œVultures,” croaked Wills. “They’re waiting.”
    â€œWhat for?” asked Oxo.
    â€œFor us to die,” answered Wills.

11
    Sal’s Ear
    Wills knew from the cowboy films he’d watched with Tod that vultures live on dead meat. It wasn’t a nice thought. He glanced up again. They were still there, circling, watching.
    Sal suddenly wobbled and lurched sideways.
    â€œWhat’s up now?” croaked Oxo. “Have you had another mirage?”
    â€œIt’s