“What is it?” Amina whispered.
Leila held a finger to her lips and Amina’s mouth snapped shut. The distinct sound of soles scraping against cobblestone came from an alley ahead of them.
CHAPTER 31
Amina gasped. Leila met her panicked gaze, then spun around. They needed a place to hide. Or they needed to run. Or—a shadowy figure stepped into the street.
“I had a hundred opportunities to shoot you,” came Abdullah’s voice. Annoyed, as usual.
Leila and Amina both let out audible sighs of relief as he stood before them, his arms folded, vexation written all over his features. His gun strap crossed his front, the end of the barrel peeking over his shoulder.
“You scared us.” Amina held a palm to her chest.
“You should have waited at the house,” Abdullah grunted.
Leila took note: he definitely wasn’t trying to keep his voice down anymore. Was the village safe? Maybe the shooter hadn’t followed them at all.
“We’re looking for water.”
“Waste of time. The wells are most likely dry.”
“So, dear brother, you haven’t bothered to look?” Amina tilted her head.
“No. No need.” Abdullah took a step past her and started down the street, back toward the house. “I will do something productive, like get the camels ready.”
“What have you been doing, then?” Amina called after him, ignoring his question.
Abdullah stopped and turned his head to the side. “Making sure we didn’t have any company.” He resumed his walk. “We leave in twenty minutes.”
Once he turned a corner, Leila and Amina continued in the other direction. Leila felt considerably better. If he had sensed any danger, he would have dragged Amina out of there. For him, his demeanor had been at ease. Leila relaxed her shoulders and her steps lightened.
They passed through the shadows of a narrow alley, flanked by twenty-foot walls on both sides. Above, a strip of blue sky led the way to a plaza. They stopped in the webbed shade of a leafless tree, studying the covered walkway built into the front of the buildings that wrapped around the square. The cobblestone had been laid out in an indecipherable pattern with large and small stones. Near the center of the plaza, a rectangular formation of mud bricks rose from the ground.
“There’s a well,” Amina said and stepped forward. “We’re in luck.”
They walked to the well and slid the wooden planks from the top. Simultaneously, they leaned over the side and looked down. Blackness.
Amina took in a deep breath through her nose. “The air is damp.”
“So there might actually be water down there?” Leila scanned the area for rope, buckets, anything they could use to draw the water, trying not to get her hopes up. They might simply draw up a load of undrinkable mud. Her eyes settled on a stone. Dropping one in would be a simple test to confirm their thoughts before they went through any more trouble. She bent over to grab it.
Her nails scraped the surface of the cobblestone as her fingers enclosed around the rock. It was cool against her palm, the surface rough from exposure to countless dust storms. She held it over the opening to the well. Then she let it fall.
They stared at the black hole, waiting for the splash. A faint chink met her ears.
A deafening blast filled the air. Leila’s heart leaped into her throat. A rush of hot air whizzed past her cheek. A thud came from behind her and splinters of rock sprayed her feet.
Amina screamed, “The roof!”
Leila whirled around and looked up at the nearest building. On the roof, a dark silhouette crouched behind the wall, pointing a long, thin cylinder at them. For a split second, her legs remained frozen, her eyes disbelieving. The silhouette shifted, took aim.
Finally, she stumbled forward, grabbed Amina by the arm and dragged her toward the covered walkway. A few yards and they would be out of sight.
They ran and another shot cracked through the air above them. The echo reverberated through the square as if ten guns had been fired.
Amina tripped, landing on her knees. Leila pulled on her arm and they staggered the last few feet to the safety of the passageway.
Leila threw herself against the wall, her chest heaving. They weren’t totally out of danger yet. They needed to get out of the area. Fast.
Amina folded onto the ground.
“What do we do now?” Leila whispered. She glanced at the closed door to her right. This was a horrible spot to hide. The shooter could burst out at any moment.
No answer came. Instead, Amina looked up at Leila, her eyes round, her mouth gaping in a silent scream.
The blood drained from Leila’s face, a wave of cold freezing her to the wall. Amina held out a palm. Her trembling hand was streaked with crimson. The front of her garment glistened. An agonizing second later, Amina fell forward into a heap.
Shock glued Leila’s feet to her spot, twisting like a knife in her chest. All she could do was watch as a red puddle flowed from under Amina’s unmoving form. Leila clenched her jaw. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t just stand there and watch. She had to do something.
“Please be okay, please be okay,” Leila whispered and dropped at her side, then gently rolled her onto her back. Heart pounding, she cradled Amina’s head between her palms, keeping it off the ground.
Though Amina’s dark eyes were open, they looked past her. Her skin was cool. Moist from sweat. Faint puffs came from her mouth.
“Stay with me,” Leila pleaded. Amina’s eyes fluttered shut.
With a helpless groan, Leila placed Amina’s head on the ground. Now what? How could she stop the bleeding? Elevate. Elevate and apply pressure. That’s all she could do.
She slid off Amina’s scarf and studied the cloth in her hands. It was enough for a bandage. She placed the fabric against the wound and pressed her palm on it. But to elevate? What if the bullet had injured her spine? Moving her would only make it worse. Or kill her.
