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She gestures with her head into the darkness, turning her head torch off. I wait a few seconds for my eyes to adjust, then scan the direction she’s looking in. At first I don’t see anything. But then I spot the tiniest flicker of artificial light, still some way behind us.
They’re still coming.
I shiver. We pack everything up as quickly as we can, confirming our bearings and double-checking the batteries in our head torches. I shed my down jacket layer, despite the surprising coolness of the night. It won’t be long until I warm up. I prefer starting cold, knowing my body heat will rise rapidly. With a nod to each other we start running, only turning our lights on again when we’re facing forward.
It’s so dark, so quiet. The sky is an ocean of stars, pinpricks of light made even brighter by the lack of moon. We don’t talk. We don’t even look at each other. I keep my focus on my stride, on the small patch of ground illuminated by light. We’ve got to stay vigilant, watching outfor scuttling creatures, cracks in the earth or loose rocks underfoot. At gone four a.m., over twenty-four hours into the stage, I run straight into a thorn bush. Blood seeps into my socks but I keep on running.
There’s a silent agreement between us, an urgency that’s building.
We need as many miles between us and him as possible.
Slowing down is not an option.
41
Stella
My brain is screaming. Or am I screaming out loud? I can’t tell any more.
My dad has been shot.
I’m too late – again.
This can’t be happening.
‘We’ve got to get him back to the bivouac,’ says Pete. Always a man of action.
But I need answers. ‘Who did this to you?’
Boones doesn’t reply. He starts shaking, his whole body wracked with convulsions.
Pete places his hand on my shoulder, pushing me back. Then he and Ali take my place, picking Boones up to place him in the back of the Jeep.
While they move him, I rush to the car. ‘Pete, his bag is gone. All his stuff.’ Now I feel panic rising. ‘His laptop’s not here.’
‘Stella, we need to get him to the medics –’
‘Whoever it was took the only way to track the runners. That means Matthew has it. And he has a gun.’
I keep waiting for the sadness to hit me. Fear for my dad’s life. But all I feel is wired.
Matthew needs to be stopped.
He can’t get away with this.
‘Why didn’t he take the car?’ Pete asks. I’ve beenwondering the same thing. But the keys are nowhere to be seen. I wonder if Dad tossed them. It was the one thing he might be able to do to give the runners a chance.
But Matthew has the laptop connected to the GPS tracking beacons. We have nothing but Alex’s map and the enormity of the Sahara Desert to search. We only have limited amounts of fuel. Our hands are completely tied. All I can do is hope that Adrienne manages to stay one step ahead of him. He still only has his feet to get to her.
If anyone can outrun a killer – it’s Adri.
But she doesn’t know there’s a killer to run from.
Pete calls my name and I walk over to the Jeep in a daze. They lie Boones across my lap in the rear seats and give him water. Then Pete gets in the passenger seat and Ali drives.
There is total silence in the vehicle on the return to the bivouac. Pete keeps glancing over his shoulder at me, and I don’t know what to say. There’s too much at stake, and we both feel so helpless.
‘It’s the jebel,’ says Pete, once the bivouac comes into view. He’s been staring at the map. ‘If we have any chance of finding her, we’ve got to get to the base of Jebel Tilelli. We know she’ll be crossing it at some point.’