How do people survive out here, how do they find their way, I wondered, in a place that looks the same everywhere, yet is always changing, the dunes shaping and reshaping themselves with the wind and the shadows, and where the eyes play tricks on the brain? Were there markers that those with eyes like mine, formed by a different climate, couldn't see? I knew in this desolate place we could not survive on our own. Even if I wanted to leave the Toyota, there was no way I could. Chastity and I were as good as dead on our own.
"Where are we going, Emile?" I said.
"Just drive," he said.
Night was falling, and I switched on the headlights. "Turn those off," he ordered.
"I can't drive in the dark," I said. "The road is terrible. Where are we going?"
"Libya," he said. Chastity started to cry. "Quiet!" he ordered. She gave one last snuffle and was silent.
"Isn't there a highway to the Libyan border?" I asked.
"There is, but they'll be looking for me there by now," he said. "Just drive."
At the top of a hill, I thought I caught a glimpse of headlights behind me in the dusk. Emile looked back over his shoulder, and I think he saw them, too. The fading light was playing tricks, but I hoped the headlights were real, because it would have to be help. Nobody would be out driving in this just for fun.
We crested another small hill, and the road just vanished. I hit the sand so hard that if we hadn't been wearing seat belts, we'd all have been hurt. I wrestled with the wheel, but I had no experience with this kind of terrain, and the truck slid into the sand and came to a halt. Ahead was a mountain of sand.
"I hate this godforsaken country," Emile shouted. The man was coming unhinged. "Get out," he said. "Start digging."
Two men materialized over the sandy slopes, and came to our aid. "Careful," Emile warned as they approached. In a few minutes, the Toyota was back on the road, and one of the men pointed out the best way around the sand.
"Storm coming," he said to us. "Take shelter."
I looked around. Storm? The sky was clear, and the first stars were coming out. But these men were nomads, Mrazig, and they should know. Did it rain in the desert?
We drove on a little farther, but it became evident that we would have to stop for a few hours at least. There was no more sign of the headlights. We hunkered down in the car to wait out the night. Despite her fear, Chastity dozed off reasonably quickly. I couldn't sleep. I looked through the windshield at the stars. There were millions of them, more than I'd ever seen, and they were close: You could delude yourself that with a very tall ladder you would be able to touch them. They stretched to the horizon in every direction. I watched them for a long time, trying to think how to get Chastity and me away from Emile, but the stars didn't say.
At some point in the night, I realized that to one side of us the stars were gone. Clouds, maybe, I didn't know. Just before dawn, I drifted into troubled sleep.
It started with just a hissing sound, millions of tiny needles blasting the outside of the car. In a minute, sand began seeping in through every crack. "What's happening?" Chastity said, wrenched awake by the sound. "Where am I?"
"Sandstorm," Emile replied. "Shut the vents and windows!" The hissing became more insistent, and the Toyota rocked gently. I had never heard sounds like this before, and I felt almost lost, a tiny molecule cut off from any contact with the outside world.
"God, I hate this place," Emile said.
"Then why did you come here?" I snapped. Heaven knows, we could have done with one less murderer on the tour.
"This place ruined my life!" he said. "My father was a good man. He didn't deserve what happened to him. Tunisia could have been independent without destroying him and my family."
"I expect essentially good people do get caught up in these waves of history, Emile. But your family, whether you like it or not, was part of an imperialist force. Your country took the land from its owners in the first place, part of the spoils of war and empire. I understand how you feel about what happened to your family. I'm not sure I can say the same about what you're doing now."
"No," he said very quietly. "Once you start, you just keep getting in deeper and deeper."
"I don't think I want to know this, Emile," I said. The less he thought Chastity and I knew, the better, although Chastity obviously had seen something he wouldn't want her talking about.
"Gold coins. Roman, Greek, even Carthaginian. You name it. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands. I don't know where they found them. I tried to make him tell me.
"Rashid Houari," he said. "He was an imbecile. Anybody who knows anything about the market would know what to do with a hoard of coins. All I needed was a little time, you know. If I could have found the source, I could have done something about it, controlled their release, just hung on to them for a little while until I'd sold the business."
He paused for a moment. "That bitch figured it out though, didn't she? She tried to blackmail me. Told me what I was planning was fraud. She knew I was about to go bankrupt again, and she'd keep quiet for a price to give me time to try to recover. I don't know how she knew."
"She probably did the same thing I did. Traced the plummeting prices of coins on your own Web site. So you went to see her, slipped some barbituates into her gin, waited until she dozed off, doused the bed with lighter fluid, and then lit a match. Did I get that about right?"
"Pretty much," he said.
"So what are you going to do when we get to the border?" I said.
"I don't know," he replied. "Maybe I'll shoot you both. Maybe I'll just leave you there to fend for yourselves. I'll think about it."
Either way we'd be dead.
I realized there was now no sound, save our breathing. "Is the storm over?" I said.
"I guess so," he said. "Let's get out and see." I tried the door. It wouldn't budge. We were buried, entombed, in sand.
Chastity started to scream. "Let me out, let me out!" She tried sliding the back door open.
"Stop!" Emile said. "We'll suffocate in sand if you open that."
Chastity sobbed uncontrollably. "For God's sake, Emile, let her climb into the front seat with me." He signaled her to move. I put my arm around her, and put my mouth to her ear. "Help's coming," I whispered to her.
"I know," she said. Oh, the self-delusion of which we are capable.
The air got worse and worse. Chastity's head fell on my shoulder.
"I should kill both of you," Emile said. "There'd be more air for me."
"To prolong the agony?" I gasped. He said nothing, but he didn't pull the trigger.
I came to at the sound of smashing glass and the rush of fresh air.
Hedi stood outside the car, a jack in his hand, Marlene and Briars behind him. About fifty yards back was another Land Cruiser. "Get out," he said. "Fast." The three of us tumbled from the car.
"He has a gun," I said, quite unnecessarily. Emile had recovered quickly and was pointing it at Chastity.
"Don't come near me," Emile said. "I'll shoot. I mean it."
"Mummy!" Chastity sobbed.
"Take me instead," Marlene cried. "Don't hurt my baby. I'll go with you, Emile. Please let her go."
"What are you going to do, Emile?" Briars said. "Kill all five of us? It's over."
"The Libyan border is just a few miles over there," Hedi said pointing. "We take Chastity and Lara back with us, and you go wherever you like. We won't be in Douz for several hours. By then you can be across the border."