Gabe Ngige — why does that name sound so familiar?
Chapter Thirteen
Zara slid down the remaining edge of the sand dune while the mayhem and hysteria of success flooded through the camp. This was her only chance. Her only possibility of surviving was to roll the die and get lucky. It was a long shot, but she had to take it. She heard the distinctive rat-a-tat of at least fifty AK-47s being fired into the air. She was now out in the open, entering the camp, and committed to her attempt to steal the Range Rover. Zara focused on the vehicle and didn’t bother to look at the shooters. At any moment one of those bullets would kill her, but there was nothing she could do about that — the future had already been decided.
She ran down the last section of the dune and to her own surprise reached the driver’s seat and closed the door. Zara took in a deep breath, looked around, still expecting to find someone else inside. She didn’t. It was empty and she was still alive. The air conditioning was set low, providing an environment of comfort she hadn’t experienced in the past two years, since she moved to the Sahara. The car smelled new. The cream Napa leather seats were piped with black. The man driving was taller than her, but not by much and her body sat perfectly inside.
She threw the Range Rover into gear. Released the electric handbrake and planted her foot down hard. The supercharged engine had great acceleration. Better than turbocharged. No lag. The high-end, sports SUV took off with a lurch. There was a moment of reprieve before any of the soldiers noticed their leader wasn’t in his vehicle, followed by a large amount of screaming and barking of orders. A tall soldier approached from up ahead of her. He waved his hands and shouted, “Stop there!”
The man had made a millisecond failure to act and still hadn’t aimed his weapon at her. Instead he’d stepped in-between the two sand dunes in which the camp had been built — making it impossible for her to drive around him. She hit the car horn to warn him without thinking.
And it did warn him.
He picked up his AK-47 and began raking the SUV’s hood. Sparks flew as the bullets ricocheted across the military grade windshield. The owner, presumably an African drug lord, had purchased the top end protection add-ons. The soldier stared at her — his eyes vacant and his mouth open as though he wanted to scream, but no words were coming out. At the last moment his eyes went wide and realization dawned on him. He was going to die. Zara didn’t lift off the accelerator for a second. She pushed her foot harder to the floor, willing the Range Rover to somehow gain more speed.
The man went under the hood with a crippling crunch, without even a shudder or reduction in speed to the two and a half ton SUV. Zara didn’t feel any remorse. Instead she felt elated to be alive and free. She’d rolled the die and scored a one in a hundred possibility, at best, of surviving — and won. Her eyes glanced at her rearview mirror. The gruesome mixture of crushed bone and flesh brought everyone out of their victory revelry. At least a dozen men had already mounted their camels, while more still fired at the Range Rover.
She steered left to climb out of the camp and avoid a direct line of sight for her attackers. The SUV responded immediately. Rack and pinion steering. Fast response. Its Desert Hawk tires eating up the sand.
More gunfire echoed through the sand valley and the rear windshield was quickly scattered with bullets, sending star-like fractures in its modified bullet resistant glass. There was only so much it could withstand. The rear windshield, pelted with hundreds of bullets broke free of its hold and fell forward onto the rear seats.
Zara ducked her head down low. At any moment she expected to feel the pain of a bullet piercing her skin at an unimaginable velocity. She wondered, with the morbid fascination of someone who’d already accepted her fate, if she’d even know she’d been hit before she died.
Instead, she felt a different sensation. The contents of her gut suddenly rose and she felt the Range Rover lose traction on the ground below. It felt like minutes, but was less than a few seconds — the powerful SUV had cleared the top of the sand dune and was now on a free fall down the opposite side.
She landed with a jolt as the soft sand on the downward side of the dune was sprayed above over the hood, sending sand scattering over the windshield. The steering wheel swung wildly. Zara fought with it, trying to keep the SUV from rolling. If one of the front wheels dug into the sand her escape was all over — the SUV would roll and even if she survived the crash, she’d never be able to escape her attackers who were swarming after her.
The steering became more responsive as the sand dune leveled out. She pushed hard on the accelerator and began up the following mound. By the time she reached the crest, Zara no longer heard bullets raking the back of the SUV. She smiled. She was reaching the outer limits of their accurate firing range. Her eyes darted to the rear-view mirror. A tail of bright orange fire raced towards her. It took a split second to recognize the tail end of the rocket.
The SUV dropped off the crest, descending steeply, and the poorly-aimed RPG flew high by several feet. She heard the roar of its rocket motor blast overhead. She sighed with relief. It would take too long for her attacker to load and fire a second one.
Zara recalled the view from her rear-view mirror. Several attackers on camels had begun their pursuit. They would never keep up with the high speed Range Rover, but they didn’t have to. She looked at the dashboard for the first time since stealing the vehicle. At present usage, the SUV had 400 miles worth of fuel remaining on its long-range, dual tanks. She needed a thousand to reach the southern tip of the Sahara, deep inside Chad. She could reach any number of oases, but that wouldn’t help much. She wasn’t worried about dying of thirst. It was her attackers who would be the death of her.
Despite her misgivings, Zara sped south, heading deeper into the Saharan desert — where her heavy Range Rover left deep imprints in the sand for her trackers to easily follow.
Chapter Fourteen
Zara pointed the powerful SUV due south and kept driving. She was safe for now, but needed to put as much distance as she could between herself and her pursuers. One thing was certain as she watched her fuel diminish — she would no longer be driving by sunrise. The mercenaries she’d left behind at her camp would come after her. And if they ever reached her, she would die.
If she could forge a two day head-start on the men on camelback she might just lose them if she walked softly. But where would she go? Anyone who knew the area would also know she would have to aim for the Bilma oasis. It was the only one close enough that she might have the chance to reach before dying of dehydration. They would know that too, which meant she’d need to lose them after reaching the oasis, or better yet — bypass it entirely and find another one altogether.
Zara knew one. It was at least another eighty miles past Bilma and almost definitely out of her reach. She swore. It was unlikely she’d even reach the first oasis. At a guess she’d run out of fuel at least forty miles before it. She shook the thought from her mind. There was nothing she could do — just watch her fuel, wait, and see. Then adapt to her circumstances and see what options came up. She might get lucky and come across some nomads willing to come to her assistance.
Zara quickly found desert driving required a unique combination of speed, finesse and technical skill. It was critical that she tackled the dunes with precision. Knowing the right time to go full throttle and the right time to slow down took experience and clear judgement. Zara had neither, but she mastered the skill quickly out of necessity.