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From the other vehicles emerge half a dozen members of the Sûreté Nationale. They must have been drivinglike madmen to reach us this soon. They start pointing at Emilio, walking towards him.
‘What’s going on?’ Emilio asks. He’s still supporting Mariam, his grip on her tightening.
‘It’s because of the drugs,’ Pete explains. ‘The ketamine matched what was found in Nabil’s system. We tried to explain that we think you’re innocent, but they want to talk to you.’ Then he gasps. He points at Matthew. ‘That’s Runner 501, the one who shot Boones,’ he says to the closest officer.
‘Boones is hurt?’ Matthew says, his eyes wide. Even Mariam whips her head around in alarm. ‘No, I didn’t do anything like that. I’ve been running for hours – the last I saw Boones was in the middle of the night two days ago when he put me on a fucking camel and sent me off into the wilderness. I didn’t shoot him, I swear.’
‘He didn’t do it,’ I tell Pete. ‘We can’t let the police take them away.’
Pete pulls his arm away from me. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The person who shot my dad also attacked Emilio. Stole his car and took Rachid hostage. It wasn’t Matthew.’
‘You’re kidding me. Someoneelseis out there? Someone not Glenn’s son? Then why would they be after Adrienne? Where is she anyway?’
‘We don’t know. But he’s still out there, whoever it is. We still need to find her – get her off the course and out of his path.’
As Emilio hesitates in the doorway of the ruined building, his phone beeps. ‘That’s an emergency beacon,’ he says. He locks eyes with me. ‘Quick, take it,’ he says, as the officers approach. ‘Get to whoever it is.’
I grab the phone from his hand and step back to look at it, not wanting to interfere with the authorities. Two paramedics take Mariam, helping her on board the helicopter. The officers surround Emilio and Matthew. I have half an eye on them but another on the phone in my hand. I don’t know what to focus on.
I trust that they can explain it all, so I focus on Emilio’s phone. It’s not password-locked – its only use is to alert for emergency beacons so it needs to be accessible by anyone. I’m guessing it’s the same with Boones’s laptop. I open the alert system, Pete looking over my shoulder.
‘Is that …?’
My eyes widen. ‘Adrienne’s beacon has gone off.’
‘Thank God! At least we have her location now,’ says Pete. ‘No more fucking about. It’s been driving me crazy thinking of her out there.’
‘We should tell the police.’
‘No,’ says Pete. ‘Let’s get her to safety first.’
I hesitate, but watching Emilio try to reason with the authorities, I can see his point. We leave the ruins, trying to remain both inconspicuous and yet move at a fast pace. Emilio’s eyes track me. I give him a small nod. I have no idea if he will interpret that correctly or not, and don’t have time to worry about it.
I walk straight over to Ali, but he’s been waiting by the car, poised and ready to jump into action. He’s as invested in this as we are. I turn the phone round and show him the GPS location.
Some of the officers of the Sûreté Nationale are looking in our direction. I lower my voice and lean in towards Ali. ‘Can we go to this location?’
He nods, turning the ignition. With any luck the police will be too distracted by Emilio and Matthew to worry about a few people leaving. They’ll assume we’re heading back to the bivouac.
They let us go and no one follows. As we drive away, I see the helicopter lift off, Mariam being taken to safety. We drive in tense silence, Pete practically trembling with worry in the back seat. I stare at the phone, at the little dot representing Adrienne.
‘The emergency beacon is a good thing, right?’ Pete says. ‘If she pressed it, it means she’s alive.’
We can only hope. I plug Emilio’s phone in to charge in the car. It’s almost out of battery. These devices aren’t designed to operate in this heat. Out here signal is intermittent too. That’s why it’s such a shock to me when I hear a phone ring.
It’s not Emilio’s, though. It’s Pete’s. It takes a second for him to register that fact too, patting at his pockets until he finds it. He almost fumbles it on to the floor but gets a hold of himself.
‘Hello?’
I shift in my seat, looking at him expectantly.
‘Oh, Henry, hi – what’s going on?’
I grind my back teeth together, listening to only one side of the conversation. I watch Pete’s face.
He frowns. ‘OK. Well. Good to know. No, it doesn’t mean anything to me. Hang on, I’ll ask.’