“Now what?” she asked.
Sam studied the walls, running his fingers across any gaps. “Beats me.”
“There’ll be an opening,” Tom said. He spoke confidently as he searched the empty ceiling. “No reason to go to the effort of building such a place without having it lead to an exit.”
Zara crossed her arms. “Maybe it was filled in when the Garamante elite separated from their lesser, surface dwelling relatives?”
Sam said, “Or maybe they left a door handle?”
All three of them stared at the single stone that appeared out of place. It was dark, where the rest of them were cream colored. A small pictograph showed a small funnel leading through an opening, with sand running through. Zara put her right hand on the stone and pressed until it moved inwards.
Nothing happened.
Sam and Tom both looked at her. Their faces said, let me have a try. They even moved toward her, as though they would fix it. They never reached the stone. Instead, a thunderous roar above changed their minds.
“Find something to hold on to!” Sam shouted. His voice barely audible above the rumble coming from the ceiling.
Zara’s eyes darted toward the stone she’d just pressed. It had slid several inches inwards. A slight groove at the lip of the block below it gave her something solid to hold. She moved as close to the wall as possible and stared up at the ceiling above.
A long crack split the limestone above. It started small, and rapidly progressed with the spider-web pattern of a fracture of a stone striking a window. It was a simple conclusion to what happened next. Zara closed her eyes and hoped for the best.
A thunderclap shook their platform as the ceiling collapsed, driven by the weight above. A moment later thousands of tons of sand fell through the opening. It ran past them, through the ladder system, burying the ancient Garamante Kingdom of the Sands.
The entire deluge lasted no more than a minute. When it was over she opened her eyes. No light filtered in. A small amount of sand drifted down from above. She adjusted her eyes and spotted something in the darkness. Speckles of light wafted toward her attention. It took a moment to determine what she was looking at.
Zara grinned as she recognized the vision — The infinite starlight above the Sahara.
“You first, Zara!” Sam said.
“Well done!” Tom said.
Zara reached up through the opening in the limestone ceiling and felt nothing but sand. She looked at Tom. “Can you give me a boost up here?”
“Sure.”
She placed her right foot into Tom’s hands and stepped up into the opening. It was enough to reach half a foot inside the open space. There were no more ladders above. The opening led to a sandy sinkhole.
Zara pulled herself through the opening and then using her hands and legs, clambered up the steep incline of sand until she reached the surface. The Harmattan, the predominant north-easterly wind, blew at a steady twenty knots. It would fill the sinkhole with sand by morning, burying with it all evidence of the ancient city of the Garamante people.
She stared out in all directions, where the stars met the horizons. The desert surrounded them in every direction. She blinked, took in a deep breath. Relaxed and slowly exhaled. She opened her eyes and grinned like a child on Christmas morning. Intermingled with the stars on the horizon were the interspersed lights of Mao — one of Chad’s most northern cities.
Chapter Eighty-Two
The sky was filled with gray. It was the predawn somber and final vestige of peace before the scorching heat overwhelmed the land, as the sun came over the horizon and burned the Sahara once more. They all walked through the night, reaching the northern desert city at dawn. Sam and Tom followed Zara to the airstrip. In their own way, each one of them felt a gentle sigh of relief as they arrived and found the Beechcraft Bonanza 36 was where Zara had told them it would be.
Sam was the first to clamber inside. He glanced at the small cockpit and wondered what it would take to coax the little aircraft to fly without its ignition key. Tom might have been able to get it started given enough time, but the sun was already climbing the horizon and it wouldn’t be long before someone would take notice.
Zara noticed his concern. “Don’t worry. He’ll be here. Flies every morning at first light.”
“And you’re certain we can trust him?” Sam shuffled further into the cargo compartment where he and Tom were nearly out of sight.
“Relax.” She smiled reassuringly. “I know this guy. He’s everyone’s friend in the Sahara.”
“You don’t have a lot of friends in the region currently. Hasn’t it occurred to you that a lot of his friends are also your enemies?”
“No.”
“It hasn’t?”
She smiled. “No. I’m certain many of his clients would pay dearly if he were to turn us over with the book.”
“But still you trust him?” Sam asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?” Sam persisted.
“Shush! Someone’s coming!” she said.
Sam covered his head with the blue tarpaulin. He listened as the door to the cockpit opened. A moment later the pilot began flicking switches. The background light lit up the avionics with a soft red glow. He heard the grind of the engine turning over. It took three goes and then fired. The engine was warmed up, and then taken through to its maximum revolutions per minute, kept there for two minutes and then reduced to idle.
The pilot released the handbrake and taxied toward the end of the sandy runway. Sam gripped the side of the aircraft as he was battered around as the Beechcraft made its way along the dilapidated airstrip.
At the end of the runway, the pilot pressed the brakes hard. Sam watched as the pilot flicked through a series of local maps, making a show to really plan his route. Sam reached for a knife and shuffled forward. There’s no reason a pilot who runs the same route everyday should be checking his maps.
The pilot placed his hand on something low where the maps had been. Sam gripped the hilt of his knife, but Zara shuffled forward first. The pilot fumbled with something inside, while his eyes darted around the cargo hold.
Zara pushed his arm down. “That won’t be necessary.”
The pilot paused and then turned to embrace her. “Christ, Zara! Do you know how many people are looking for you right now?”
“A few, I’d guess.”
“General Ngige’s placed a hundred thousand dollar price tag on your life.” His eyes met Sam’s, and returned to hers. “Who the hell have you brought?”
“Khalid, this is Sam and Tom. They’ve been helping me out for the past couple days.”
“Sam Reilly and Tom Bower?”
“Yeah, pleased to meet you,” Sam said, shuffling forward and offering his hand. His eyes drifted to the end of the cargo hold, where Tom now stretched his legs. “I don’t think my friend here is moving anytime soon.”
Khalid took it and shook firmly. Their eyes met as the pilot studied him, judging him, somehow. It was clear he knew and trusted Zara, but two new strangers might be stretching their friendship. “There’s a woman looking for you. Eurasian. Purple eyes. Sound familiar?”
Sam nodded. “A concerned relative.”
Khalid nodded. “She left the current location of the Maria Helena. Promised to charter this aircraft at three times the daily rate, if I find you.”
“Bargain.”
“I told her my services would cost at least four.”
“Still a bargain.”
“General Ngige’s offering $100,000 for Zara and her book. Very tempting.” He looked fondly at Zara and smiled. “But Zara and I, we go back a long way. I love this woman as much as I love my sister. So, I guess it’s your lucky day. And lucky for you, Zara, that I still love my sister!”