Spotting a copse of trees in the distance, Julian jumped down from the wall and ran in that direction.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Raising her shirt over her face, Mena dipped her head low, hoping to avoid swallowing the gritty dust again.
She’d been running for what felt like hours, zigzagging across the arid desert, plunging toward the sparse clusters of dying trees, stumbling over dead livestock carcasses infested with flies, trying to seek refuge. The gunmen hunting her were never far away. Their voices drifted across the wind as they called out to each other in their tribal languages, determined in their pursuit to capture her. Mena knew she would be killed the moment they found her.
Stumbling forward, she raced toward brush clustered along deep ruts in the sand of what seemed to be a makeshift road. Should she follow it? Or would it lead back to danger? Would the gunmen expect her to make that move? A dull ache, throbbing near her temples, disrupted her thoughts. Her desperation to escape had placed her in a worse predicament.
Mena stifled a wail as she squeezed between the brush. Digging her hand into the coarse sand, she smeared it over her shirt to camouflage herself, praying it would prevent the men from seeing her.
Leaving the compound might have been her biggest mistake. But when she’d heard Wangari’s gut-wrenching cries laced with pure terror, she’d panicked. The brutal sounds of fists against skin had been enough to convince Mena to take her life into her own hands. She’d acted on instinct, hoping to save herself from suffering the same fate as Isaac and Wangari, either at the hands of Tubeec’s men or whoever had hired him to abduct her.
Now, she was alone in the desert with no food, no water, and no idea what to do next.
The sky was brightening. The sun would be rising soon. How much longer could she hide from the gunmen? In the growing daylight, she wouldn’t be able to conceal her location for long.
Settling within a divot between a tangle of brittle branches, Mena peered out in the distance. She could still hear the men communicating but couldn’t tell which direction they would be coming from. She hoped she was hidden enough by the trees to not be seen. Mena pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs as her body shook violently from exhaustion and pure fear.
She’d had other occasions to think about her death. Times when she’d been certain she wouldn’t make it out alive. Snatches of memories of her life flashing across her mind as she prepared for what she’d expected to be the end.
But each time, she’d skirted death. Saved by the man who loved her.
Julian had risked his own life, time and again to bring her from the brink of danger.
Wangari’s family had hired TIDES for security and protection. By now, Julian must know she’d been kidnapped along with Wangari and Isaac. Was he out there somewhere trying to find her and save her from the maniac who’d taken her? Could she dare to believe he would save her once again? Or was all hope gone?
A heavy force pressed down against Mena’s back, toppling her into the dirt. She screamed, tasting bitter earth on her tongue as she struggled to identify her attacker. Turning, she stared into the dark, dangerous eyes of one of the kidnappers who’d held her at the compound.
He jerked her from the ground, clamping a damp, dusty hand against her mouth. Mena struggled against the weight pressing against her back, trying to free herself as she was yanked from the brush.
“Shh, shh,” the gunman whispered in her ear.
Rahim.
The same man who’d showed her kindness by loosening the ropes on her wrists. The man who’d unwittingly helped orchestrate her escape.
He turned her toward him slowly, then crouched low behind the brush. She saw the same kindness in his eyes she’d witnessed earlier. Was he going to take her back to the compound, or was he here to help her escape?
Rahim pressed his finger to his mouth, then gently brushed dust from her face, his fingers lingering against her lips. Mena sat rigid, unmoving, waiting for his next move. Her chest heaved from her ragged breaths.
With his other arm, he pointed toward the road. Rahim pressed his arms and knees onto the ground, effecting a crawling motion, then pointed again in the direction of the road.
“Safe,” Rahim whispered, then pointed again. “Safe.”
Mena nodded slowly. She needed to crawl, stay low, and follow the road to safety. She didn’t know where it would lead, but she knew she had to trust him.
“Go,” Rahim urged, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, pointing frantically toward the road again.
The shouts of tribal words grew louder in the air as the sun begin to peek over the horizon. Rahim looked concerned, peering back through the bushes to the vast canvas of desert behind them.
Scrambling forward, Mena moved past Rahim toward the road. Broken branches and rocks lodged in the dirt scratched her knees and hands, stinging her skin, but she pressed forward. As she reached the edge, she dared to stand and run, putting more distance between herself and the danger following them.
Rushing through the gnarled branches clawing at her clothes, Mena forced her legs to go faster.
Stumbling along the ruts, she cut across the road to another cropping of trees. Her legs burned as the ground sloped upward, then abruptly flattened. Mena stumbled to a stop along a ridge. A gust of wind whipped through her hair, hot and blustering against her dry skin. The road angled downhill toward a small building in the distance, surrounded by a low stone fence a couple hundred yards away.
Did Rahim know about this place? Was this where he wanted her to go for safety?
