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“A little.” He hefted his pack and clipped the straps across his chest. “I wanted to stay alert in case anyone from the Air Force base decided to follow us.”
She shivered. “I didn’t even think about that.” A chill crept up her spine. If they had been tracked?—
“Good thing the sandstorm hit,” she added quietly. “Probably the only reason we weren’t found.”
He grunted.
“I’m glad I’ve got you looking out for me.” She meant it more than he knew.
“It’s what I do.” He held her gaze a second longer than necessary. “It’s my job to keep you safe.”
He was terrible at taking praise.
“I know,” she said, smiling. “I’m just saying—I’m glad it’s you.”
She looped her scarf back around her neck, bracing against the early morning chill.
“I’m ready. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 18
It was just before sunrise when they spotted the lights of Mandhab twinkling ahead. The town nestled against a stretch of rugged hills—shorter than a mountain range but still imposing, with jagged rock faces that glowed purple in the early morning light. Instead of heading straight in, they circled wide and entered through a small road at the base of the hills.
“This place is a rebel stronghold,” Tom said quietly, motioning for her to stay in the shadows.
“What?” She stopped short, pulse going into overdrive. “Didn’t you say to avoid the rebels at all costs? What if they find out who I am?”
“Don’t worry. These rebels aren’t interested in you—they’ve got their own problems to deal with. This town’s been through days of mortar fire and skirmishes with government militia. That’s why it looks like a war zone. The army only pulled out a few days ago, and most people here are still trying to adjust to the ceasefire.”
She glanced around. That would explain the shattered buildings with gaping holes, the exposed wires overhead, and the leaning street poles. The road was littered with debris frombombed-out homes, and burned-out vehicles sat rusting by the curb. Yet people were beginning to emerge—some heading to work, others inspecting the damage.
“I know a place where we can rest and grab something to eat. It’s just two blocks from here.” He offered a reassuring smile, but it didn’t help with her nerves. “We’re almost there.”
Hannah kept her eyes peeled. Now she had to look out for both soldiers and rebels—she didn’t know who she was more scared off. There were lots of men dressed in the colors of the freedom movement, but thankfully, there didn’t appear to be a military presence.
They came to what looked like a post-office riddled with bullet holes, then turned down a side street. It led to a small line of shops–or what was left of them. All the windows were covered with wooden or iron sheeting, even though they would soon open for business. The owners were taking no chances.
“Is this where we’re going?” They’d stopped in front of a small convenience store. It too was boarded up. The shop sign hung haphazardly over the door, while the ground outside was strewn with broken tiles and other debris.
Tom tried the handle. It was unlocked. A small bell jingled as he pushed the door open. A man with thick black hair and a beard poked his head up from behind the counter.
“Can I help you?” he asked in Arabic.
““Jamal. We’re looking for Jamal,” Tom said in English, hoping the man understood. He seemed to. He rose and studied their dusty clothes and tired expressions. His gaze lingered on Tom’s rifle.
“Why you want Jamal?” the man asked, his accent thick. He was neatly dressed, probably in his forties.
“We need his help,” Tom said. Hannah stood by his side, willing the man to help them.
“Jamal not here.” The man turned away.
Was that it? Hannah cast a worried glance at Tom.
He stepped forward, but Hannah placed a hand on his arm. “Let me try,” she whispered.
Without waiting, she stepped toward the man. “Please. We’re not here to cause trouble. We’re trying to get out of Syman—back to England. Jamal told us to come here if we needed him.”
She wasn’t sure if that last part was true, but she hoped it helped. They needed to look like anything but a threat.