The other bank of the inlet rose steeply out of the water into a solid concrete-and-glass cliff of hotels and offices.
The road became even narrower and still more crowded farther on when it reached the wooden jetties and rickety wharfs of the old harbour. There, the pungent muddy waters of the inlet were only a step away from the road, and in places the pointed lateen sails of the sambuqs sometimes seemed to be poised directly above the pavement.
It was there, in a little room above a café, that Jeevanbhai Patel had had his office.
Soon after that the road wound around the inlet, through a huddle of houses and away, straight into the sands beyond, towards the broad sweep of a curving headland in the distance. At that point the road broadened and blackened and became the Corniche.
A short way after the last cluster of houses, the Corniche began to rise gradually, and by the time the sea first became visible on the left, a kilometre or so away, it was a good height above the sand on the seaward side, and still rising. In contrast, on the other side of the road, to the right, the ground fell away only slightly. All along that side of the Corniche the viscera of newly begun high-rise buildings lay scattered in a long, skeletal trail. Soon an outward curve took the road even closer to the sea, and there it rose still higher, till it was about ten feet above the sandy beach on the far side. At its outermost point the road was so close to the sea that its surface was usually moist with spray. At that point there stood a huge, almost-finished airline office. The office had been built to take advantage of the view, and one part of it jutted out almost into the road. There the road turned, angling sharply around the building, so that approaching the building from one end the other side of the curve was blocked out of view. After that the Corniche ran inland for a stretch before curling out again to meet the Star.
When Zindi first spotted the airline office, Hajj Fahmy, Professor Samuel and a knot of people immediately behind them were very close to the building and walking fast. The rest were strung out behind in an untidy dribble, their dusters bright against the indistinct greyness of the twilight. Sometimes, when the road curved, she could see silhouettes; the outlines of crowbars and axes on bent shoulders clearly etched against the sand and the evening sky.
Abu Fahl, Zaghloul and Alu, still bringing up the rear, were only a hundred paces or so ahead of her. That was a stroke of luck for her, for she could not have planned that. Otherwise it had all happened exactly as she had hoped. She had waited in the harbour with Kulfi and Boss, hidden in the little launch that was to carry them to Zeynab. She had spotted Hajj Fahmy and Professor Samuel easily enough despite the crowds, for the dusters on their arms stood out like bright lights. She had waited till they had gone past, all of them, and then, at a careful distance, she had hurried after them to salvage what she could of her fallen house.
It had been a long walk and she was tired now. Her feet ached and the tension of expecting something to happen at every turn had worn her patience away. But nothing had happened. Maybe it was she who was wrong after all, and Hajj Fahmy right. She stopped to wipe her face. She could see the shadowy figures of Hajj Fahmy and Professor Samuel in the distance, very close to the airline office and the blind curve. She shut her eyes and turned to the sea breeze and let it play over her face. She pulled the neck of her dress up with her finger and gratefully felt the coolness of the breeze on her chest.
And while she stood there, with her eyes shut and the wind licking gently at her body, she knew suddenly that it had happened, for she heard something like a shout, and by the time she had turned a whirling cloud of sand had blotted Hajj Fahmy and Professor Samuel from her view.
As she watched, a helicopter rose into the greyness behind the building and swooped down on the road. She had seen it before that evening, twice. It had flown overhead and away, in the other direction. She hadn’t given it much thought: rich young Ghaziris were always buzzing the roads in their planes and helicopters. But this time it was coming in very low, sweeping the road slowly. And now it was above her, a high staccato drumming noise, buffeting her with axe-like strokes, pulling at her clothes. Around her the sand was rising in solid walls from both sides of the road to meet it. As it passed above, only a few feet from her head, she saw a pointing arm, the barrel of a gun and a black uniform.
She knew then that this was no young Ghaziri on a joyride, but a part of the machine that she had known to be lying in wait.
It was all sand now, everywhere, like the desert in a Khamsin, wrapping her in layers, sifting into her mouth and into her eyes. She was caught in a sandy fog, hardly able to see the road beneath her feet. She could hear screams in the distance, and odd muffled popping sounds. Then she heard the helicopter again, and in terror she ran blindly along the edge of the road. She heard it swooping low over her and she threw herself over the side and rolled to the bottom of the embankment. As she rose unsteadily to her feet again, she felt an odd stickiness on her eyelids. She drew a hand across her face and it came away covered in blood. She screamed, but the sound was lost, for there were shouts and screams everywhere now, shrilling eerily out of the gritty, golden cloud. Faintly she caught a whiff of tear gas.
Sobbing with fear, she pulled the scarf off her head and wrapped it over her face, covering her nose and leaving only a slit for her eyes. She tried to run but fell and struck her head against the embankment. She struggled up and tried to run again, in the other direction, but she could see no more than a few feet ahead; and suddenly, horror-struck, she realized that she was running towards the screams. She stopped in utter, terrified confusion, and then somewhere close by she heard a shout. She looked up and saw two figures tumble off the road and come rolling down towards her, screaming. A moment later another figure came crashing down after them.
When he was almost upon her, she recognized Abu Fahl. He collapsed in a heap hardly a foot away from her and lay there whimpering in shock, blood pouring from a gash in his head. A little way behind him lay Alu and Zaghloul, clinging to the sand in blank terror.
Suddenly Zindi’s head was clear again. She pulled Abu Fahl’s arm and shouted — Get up, get up — but he lay as he was, inert on the sand. She shook him and then drew her hand back and slapped him hard across his face. His head snapped back, and then slowly recognition filtered into his eyes. She pulled him to his feet and screamed into his ear: What about the others, all the rest, Samuel, Karthamma, Chunni, Hajj Fahmy?
He could only shake his head stupidly. She turned him round and pushed him towards Zaghloul and Alu. Take them with you, she shouted, pointing towards the inlet, and run in that direction. Hurry, we can still get away; they haven’t seen us yet and there aren’t any of them on this side of the embankment. They were all on the other side so that we wouldn’t see the ambush.
She pushed him again — Run — but he clung helplessly to her arm: And you?
I’m coming, she said. But, first, I’ve got to see if there are any others. She gave him a shove, and this time he stumbled away; and, pulling up her skirts, she scrambled up the side of the embankment.
The tear gas clawed at her nose and eyes as soon as her head was level with the road. For a moment she was blinded. Then, very hazily, through a golden-grey glow, she saw a line of helmeted black-uniforms with riot-shields and batons, charging the milling crowd on the road. She saw Hajj Fahmy prone, screaming under a baton; she saw Professor Samuel and Rakesh being dragged off the road by their feet, and then she couldn’t see any more for her eyes were smarting like a salted wound. Blindly she pushed herself back towards the edge of the embankment, and just as she was about to slip down again she heard a familiar shriek across the road.