At last a crack of light appeared ahead of them. An inviting, warm flutter of air brushed against her cheek as it whistled through the hole. Then she stumbled into the glorious sunlight.
Taking in a deep, grateful breath, Leila allowed her eyes a moment to accustom to the brightness. They stood among the red and brown rocks, between the mountain-side and a hill that swept upward in front of them.
“Now what?” Amina whispered.
“We circle around and get the camels,” Abdullah answered, adjusting his rifle and bag to rest on his back. He began to climb.
Leila and Amina slowly followed. Rocks pelted Leila’s face as Amina slipped over a spot where there wasn’t any solid footing. Leila braced herself, ready to grab her if she slid back down. Amina held on and climbed. Leila kept an eye on her from below, while Abdullah would pause, reach out, and give her a hand up.
During one of these pauses, Leila threw a glance over her shoulder. The shooter was still somewhere behind them, maybe in the cave, or maybe not. All she could see were rocks. Rocks everywhere. Determined to get out of this place, Leila pulled herself to the top of the hill. From there, she peered down into the valley and let out a breath of relief. The camels stood below them, still lingering near the mouth of the cave, seemingly unharmed.
Something fluttered on the ground to her right. She turned and crouched, picking up a gray square of cloth, and ran her fingers over the material, the microfibers catching on her broken skin. A cleaning rag, streaked with brown dirt. With rocks big enough to conceal a person, this spot had made the perfect hideout for the shooter. Scowling, she tossed the cloth on the ground and stood.
“Stay down,” Abdullah hissed. He waved for Amina to follow, then started the descent to the other side of the valley, keeping out of sight of the mouth of the cave.
Leila trailed behind Amina in a crouch. The way down went quickly, and once they arrived at the bottom Abdullah held out a palm, commanding them to stop. He crept forward and shielded himself behind a boulder. Slowly, he stuck his head around his cover, stuck two fingers in his mouth, and made a low whistle.
Leila craned her neck to watch. The three camels lifted their heads and looked in their direction. Abdullah whistled again and the beasts ambled toward them, curious, but in no hurry.
Once the first camel passed the boulder, Abdullah grabbed the reins. He pulled it out of the way, allowing the other two to approach Leila and Amina.
Leila gave Fatma a pat on the neck, which the camel ignored. With a tug of the reins, Fatma walked after her. Abdullah had already started down the path, away from the cave and danger. Leila ended up behind him with Amina bringing up the end of their caravan.
Another deafening blast cut through the canyon, joined by Amina’s scream.
Leila’s heart skipped. She whirled around, just in time to see Amina’s camel collapse into a heap, its rider trapped beneath it. A strong hand shoved Leila to the side, and Abdullah rushed past. He skidded to the ground beside the fallen camel.
Another gunshot cracked. A bullet hit the rocks near Abdullah, sending a shower of splinters into the air.
Leila’s pulse raced as she looked around. She couldn’t stand around, doing nothing. Her gaze fell on Abdullah’s things piled on the ground at his camel’s feet.
Including his gun.
She ran to the camel, scooped up the weapon, and turned it over in her hands. An AK-47. Blood pounded in her ears as her thoughts whirled. This was crazy. She’d never seen one of these in real life before this ordeal, let alone fired one. Aside from the few times she’d shot .22 rifles with her grandpa, and a few paintball games with friends, she didn’t know the first thing about guns.
Just point and pull the trigger. Leila jumped behind the nearest boulder and flattened her stomach against it, then inched her head above the top. Abdullah still struggled to lift the dead weight of the camel off Amina, ducking every time he heard a gunshot.
Propping the gun on the rock, Leila looked through the scope until she had the shooter in the crosshairs. A man crouched behind a wall of rocks, his face and hair covered by a headscarf. His eyes would be the only thing showing, if it weren’t for the rifle he held to his face, aimed at Abdullah and Amina.
At least he didn’t seem to notice her. Not yet. Unsure if the weapon was still loaded, she reached up and slid back the charging handle part way, caught a glimpse of a bullet resting in the chamber, then released the bolt. It shut with a snap. She put her finger on the trigger and paused, unsure what she was waiting for. A warning shot or two should do the trick. Make him take cover, give Abdullah time to get Amina back to safety.
She pulled the trigger. The gun jerked back, pounding into her shoulder as an ear-splitting blast splintered through the valley. Ignoring the sharp pain and the ringing in her ears, she held the trigger down and sprayed another dozen rounds in the shooter’s general direction, until the weapon made a harmless click. Wondering if she had done any damage, aside to her shoulder, she looked through the sight again. All she could see were wisps of dust churning in the air.
The man had vanished.
Ears still buzzing and shoulder aching, Leila slid back down from the rocks as Abdullah and Amina returned. Red streaked Amina’s face and clothing, though she didn’t appear to be in any pain. After helping her mount his camel, Abdullah turned to Leila. His brow was furrowed and his mouth pressed into a thin line.
Was he irritated or was that the permanent look on his face? She held the gun out.
“Sorry, I just borrowed—”
Abdullah yanked the firearm from her hands like it was made of feathers and bared his teeth. “Get on your camel. Now.”
Leila turned on her heel and strode to Fatma. Once mounted, she nudged the beast into a bouncy trot a short way down the path to where Amina waited.
“Don’t worry, he’s impressed,” Amina whispered with a half-smile.
“I don’t need his approval.” Leila shrugged nonchalantly, suppressing the bubble of pride radiating in her chest. He’d only resent her more, and unfortunately, she needed his respect. Until she made it to Saint Catherine, he was her key to survival.
They waited, holding their breaths, for several minutes until Abdullah appeared around the boulder and stormed toward them. Without a word, he shook his head, then mounted in front of Amina. He dug his heels into the camel’s sides and it jolted into a trot.
Ice surged through Leila’s veins. The shooter was still out there. With a painful swallow, she gave the reins a flick, and Fatma followed.
CHAPTER 28
“I told my sister I was on a diet.” Emma stuck her hand in the bag of chips she held, the foil crackling as her fingers searched for more. “So a few weeks later, she said the dress she got me to wear at her wedding this summer was a size thirty-four.” She gave a snort of indifference. “I’m not going to fit in a thirty-four.” She popped a chip into her mouth. “Maybe a forty.”
Xander was becoming something of an expert at tuning out her ramblings. All he had to do was imagine the moment he saw Leila again. The moment her dulcet voice met his ears. Felt the soft strands of dark hair between his fingers.
Soon Emma’s voice faded into a melodious babble, drowned out by the wind rushing around the jeep. It was late afternoon, and the sand churned up from the storm had mostly settled into a haze that floated above the desert surface. His hair blew back from his face, arm hanging out the open window, and what was left of the evening sun warmed his face. A cloud of dust trailed behind the jeep, swirling in mini tornadoes.
It would almost be a nice drive, if he wasn’t having a continuous panic attack on the inside. Thanks to the sandstorm, he could no longer find the tire path the Bedouin had told him about, which would have led him back to the asphalt highway. At first, all he could do was follow the navigation coordinates and correct their path every few minutes as the terrain forced them off track.
Then the GPS lost its signal. Again. The Eastern Desert mountain range was not too difficult to find on their own, but they ended up too far north of where they wanted to be. It was clear. They weren’t going to reach El-Misbah that evening.
To his left, golden mountains rose from the sand like countless rows of leopard teeth. He kept the vehicle at a distance from the mountains, preferring to drive over the sand rather than the more rocky ground. A flat tire or broken wheel rim was the last thing they needed.
Leila was somewhere in those mountains. The storm could have slowed them down, but if her guide was as skilled as the Bedouin had insisted, she could already be in Saint Catherine.
