The Sins of the Father
by Amanda Rohrssen
Chapter Nine
It took the better part of two days to cross the Western Sahara desert. They had run out of water long ago, and Jacob’s throat was so dry and scratchy that it felt like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together every time he swallowed. The girl, whose name he had discovered was Hadia, had taught him a lot about surviving in the incredible heat, and had done her best to take care of the both of them on their journey. But as Jacob’s hazy eyes panned out over the miles and miles of untamed, rolling sand, he began to wonder what he was doing and if they were ever going to make it to their destination. Did Hadia even know where she was going?
He opened his bill to call to her, but before his voice could make it out of his bill, a sound caught his ears and cut him off. Tilting his head toward the sound, he waited for it to recur.
When he heard it again, he could better make it out. It was a woman’s voice singing softly and serenely over the gentle breeze that wafted over the orange-yellow hills of sand. It was the most beautiful sound Jacob had ever heard in his life. It reached right through his ears and pulled at his heartstrings, and without realizing it, he had turned his horse in the direction of the song. Once again, his gaze scanned the desert, but this time he was searching for the source of the sound. The longer he listened to the song, the more relaxed and carefree he felt. Sand blew into his eyes, but it didn’t seem to really matter. There was a glaze over his eyes as they transfixed themselves onto a stunningly beautiful woman sitting languidly near a pool of fresh, clean water. It was her song he was hearing, and her delicate bill moved effortlessly as she formed the foreign words. Dark black hair spilled down her back and over her slender shoulders, and one of her delicate fingers reached out to graze the top of the crystal clear water, sending little ripples through the sparkling liquid.
Jacob licked his parched, scabbed lips and climbed down from his horse.
“Jacob…” she whispered, her lovely voice beckoning him. She extended her arms toward him, inviting him into her paradise, and he found his own arms reaching for her in return.
“Water…” he murmured desperately.
Just as he was about to touch the woman’s fingertips, the vision erupted and twisted until it was gone, and as he blinked out of his trance he felt an eager jerk on his arm.
“American! You sinking!” Hadia shouted and pointed at his feet.
Jacob shook his head, disoriented. “Wha-what?” he muttered. It wasn’t until he could blink the sand from his eyes that he felt a strange sucking sensation pulling at his ankles. He looked down and immediately stiffened. “Quicksand!” he yelped, trying to jerk up his legs out of the ground. The more he moved, however, the faster he seemed to sink.
“You take, you take!” he heard Hadia cry from his right. He craned his head back and realized she had a whip in her small hands. She reeled back the thick leather and snapped it toward him.
He reached for it, and it snapped smartly on his forearm, drawing blood.
“Ah!” he grunted, closing his fist around it before it could fall away from him. Clenching his teeth together, he twisted the leather around his arm as the blood seeped down the muscles and into the sand and pulled with all his might.
Hadia had tied the other end to his horse’s saddle, and when she saw that Jacob was ready, she smacked the stallion on the rear. It whinnied and bucked before taking off at a dead run, plucking Jacob out of the quicksand like a weed.
“Whoawhoawhoawhoawhoaaaaaaahhhahahaaaaa!!” Jacob bellowed as the horse galloped across the sand dunes, dragging him along with it. “Come on!” he whined loudly. “Stop, horsie! Pretty please?” As his chest bumped and skidded over the rough surface, Hadia watched with a fit of giggles erupting from her throat.
The horse finally circled back around and slowed to a stop as Hadia comforted it, still laughing under her breath.
“Very funny,” Jacob mumbled, sand dripping from his beak.
Once most of the sand had been removed from his person, Jacob and Hadia continued toward their destination. Jacob hoped it wasn’t much farther. There was still sand in between his feathers, and it made for an uncomfortable saddle ride. He was sweating so badly that he had taken off his shirt and wrapped it around his head like a turban. Still, he felt like he was going to have a heat stroke.
As they peaked the next dune, Jacob smirked to himself and shook his head. “Huh…a mirage. It was a mirage…who would have thought?”
“American! Look!” Hadia cried excitedly, pointing off in the distance toward a small patch of mountainous rock in the distance. Jacob could vaguely make out smoke rising from between the red crags.
They had made it to the rebel camp.
The nearer they traveled, the more Jacob could make out. The camp was of modest size, with dozens of colorful tents dotting the landscape shrouded in darkness beneath the shade of a foreboding rock formation that jutted from the dunes like knives piercing the blue flesh of the sky. Movement caught his attention, and his black eyes fixated on a pair of figures hurrying out to greet them on the backs of mules. Hadia straightened in her saddle, her mood brightening when she noticed the two men, and urged her exhausted horse forward.
“Abba!” she shouted.
Jacob made a mental note to learn Arabic when he returned home.
“Hadia, bint!” called the heavier set man on the left.
Springing from his mule, he ran toward Hadia with outstretched arms, kicking up sand as he went. Hadia followed suit and was soon hugging the man fiercely. Jacob slowed his horse to a stop, and he and the second man exchanged uncertain glances. The stocky canine holding Hadia eyed Jacob from over the girl’s shoulder before releasing her and asking her a few questions, to which she replied respectfully. The only word Jacob caught was “American.” He hoped that being one would prove to be an asset.
The man Hadia had called abba stood up to his full height and approached the SHUSH agent with distrust in his eyes.
“I hear that I have you to thank for my daughter’s escape.”
A jolt of surprise shot through Jacob as the man spoke. Not only did he speak articulate and fluent English, but he appeared to be Hadia’s father. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“Well, she did most of the work,” he replied with a smile. “She’s very…resourceful.”
“She has to be. We all have to be as long as Hassan reigns.” Then the canine stuck out his hand. “I am called Fatih, and this is Zaim. Now, bint, where is your brother?”
Hadia’s head immediately lowered, and her azure eyes melted to the sand beneath her feet. Her father said nothing as realization and a twinge of grief passed over his face.
“Come,” he said somberly, outstretching an arm to drape over Jacob’s shoulders as they began walking. “We will talk over a hot meal and some water.”
Jacob’s head perked up immediately. “Water?”
“Hassan rules this land as a dictator, kidnapping innocents and accusing them of treason. Some return to their families broken and unrecognizable. Others never come back at all. The government hides these atrocities behind lies and false accusations, all to crush the resistance. But we will not give in. Nobody will betray our cause. We are like brothers. And we will fight for a just government. This land we have claimed from Hassan is very valuable. It is filled with iron ore deposits vital to our economy. Without them the government cannot run. They cannot ignore us now. This land belongs to Mauritania, not that madman.”
Jacob was silent as Fatih spoke, taking in every word with minimal effort. That the man was lying was not easily discernable, and this intrigued Jacob. His training had taught him much about separating fact from fiction, but Jacob had always had an innate sense about honesty that hadn’t steered him wrong yet. Fatih, however, left Jacob in a gray area. What the rebel leader was saying about Hassan went against everything SHUSH had told him, and what Fatih would certainly ask of him was in complete opposition to his mission.
“You, American…you must help us. Hassan trusts you. You can tell us of his plans, give us access to where he will be easily taken down…”
“Wait just a minute,” Jacob interrupted with one hand raised in the air. “You’re talking about an assassination?”
Fatih nodded.
“Fatih, I…”
You are either with us, American, or you die right here.”
“Well, I guess I have lived a pretty full life at this point…” he mused with a smirk. Fatih didn’t see the joke and remained deadpan.
“Please help, American,” Hadia pleaded softly as she crept toward him to refill his water glass. “They kill anki…”
“Her brother,” Fatih clarified at the look on Jacob’s face. “Hassan killed her brother…I don’t want to lose anyone else to this madman – I’ve already lost my son. But we’re all willing to sacrifice our lives if that’s what it will take to be free. What about you, American? Will you join us?”
It seemed as though hours passed while Jacob contemplated his answer. It wasn’t the choice that was hard, but he had to think of Gail, and what the repercussions of his decision could mean for the future. Damn this responsibility.
If he died he would leave behind a widow, but if he succeeded he would quite possibly become one of the greatest SHUSH agents of all time…which meant a promotion. As soon as this thought struck him, his hand was extended to Fatih. Jacob's grip was strong, but not nearly as strong as the grip Fatih gave him. He grimaced and tried not to show the pain that jolted up his wrist and arm. A sigh escaped his lips as his hand was released, and he shook the aching limb slightly before he caught Fatih's eyes. They were hard and warnful. Jacob knew this man was not one to double-cross.
"To bed, then," Fatih said, a sudden whimsy in his voice. "You may use the tent over there. My men will be guarding the camp while we sleep."
Terrified screams pierced the air as the smoke and flames climbed higher. The smell of burning wood invaded his nostrils, and the heat seared his feathers even from the distance he kept from the conflagration. All around him people were scrambling to safety or standing beside him in awe of the spectacle before them. It had been one of the high-class apartment buildings in town, and now it was nothing but a tower of fire. Flames licked at the walls, lighting up the structure in reds and yellows and oranges so bright it hurt his eyes, and through the fire all that Jacob could make out was the skeleton of what had once been Canard City Estates.
The firemen had not yet arrived, though someone had shouted that they had been notified. Still, the screams streamed through his ears until they became a single sound, a muddled cry of fear and despair. Then one voice rang about above all of the others.
"Look! A girl! A little girl, in that window!"
His black eyes were already on the flailing second-story victim even as the onlookers all began to realize that there was still someone trapped inside. Without a moment's hesitation, he raced toward the blazing inferno and leapt into the ravenous flames. Instantly he was drenched in sweat; it was hotter than anything he could have ever imagined. If there was a hell, surely it couldn't compare to this. He charged over the quickly disintegrating floor, searching for a stairwell.
The fire roared angrily, sending another torrent of heat washing over him, but he heard the girl cry out again and kept going. Another sound made him pause, and just then a blazing beam plummeted down inches away from him. He was grateful he'd stayed put.
The thick, charred pole of wood barred his path, but he soon realized that the only parts of the beam on fire were the ends through which the flames had eaten. Encouraged, he climbed up onto the unstable wood and placed one foot carefully in front of the other as if he was walking a tightrope. Sweat was pouring down his forehead and back, dripping into his eyes and forcing him to stop so that he could wipe it away lest he lose balance.
"Help me!!" the girl cried again.
"I'm coming!" Jacob bellowed, his lungs filling with smoke. He coughed wretchedly and staggered onto the second floor.
From the looks of things, the ceiling was going to collapse soon. Fire blanketed it like water over sand.
"Where are you??" he cried into the holocaust.
"Here!" she sobbed, her voice growing smaller. "I'm here..."
"Hang on!" He sprinted over the unsteady floor, not caring if he caused it to collapse behind him. "I'm almost there!"
"Please hurry..." she coughed.
He muscled his way through an apartment door then raced toward the back of the space, dodging bits of flaming debris, and shouldered open the bedroom door farthest from the front.
There in the corner near the window huddled a girl a little younger than he was -- maybe eleven. He ran over to her, but just as he planted his foot in the middle of the room, it sunk through the crumbling wood. The building gave a great groan, and then the area around Jacob split apart, sending him straight downward. He would have fallen to certain death had the girl not grabbed his wrists.
Her grip was weak but she managed to hang on to him just long enough for him to crawl back to semi-safety. He grabbed her upper arm.
"Come on, we've gotta get out of here."
Her eyes were already rolling back into her head as she struggled to stay conscious. He pulled her toward the window and looked out in time to see the firemen already opening a tarp for them to jump in to.
"You first," he murmured to the girl before he unceremoniously picked her up and tossed her out of the window. He watched as she landed safely into the middle of the tarp, then as the firemen pulled her away to make room for him.
He stuck one foot through the opened window and was about to jump himself when a loud explosion wracked the building. It was as if the structure itself had internally combusted, and the burst of heat and fire propelled him forward. The incandescence engulfed his body as he flew through the air like a rag doll. The icy wind that tore through him felt like daggers against his scorched feathers, and he was falling, falling...
Within seconds he was jerked awake by a hand that snatched the collar of his shirt and forced him to sit up.
“What have you done??” Fatih screamed into his face. “You led them right to us, you lying murderer!”
“What?” Jacob sputtered, his heart jammed up in his throat. “What are you talking about??”
“They are upon us! Hassan’s men!”
It was then that Jacob heard the screams, much like the screams in his dream, and the flickering shadows against his tent told him that the camp was burning to the ground. It was a raid. Yet however fierce the blaze might be, nothing could compare to the fire in Fatih’s eyes.
“I didn’t know! They must have followed Hadia and I from the palace!” Jacob cried, trying to pry Fatih’s strong hands from around his collar.
“No! You Americans and your self-righteousness! You have doomed us all!” Back railed Fatih’s thick fist, and Jacob braced himself for the punch.
Gunfire rang out in the night, and instead of a fist hitting his face, he felt a sticky trail of blood rolling down his cheek. Fatih’s eyes had swiveled up into his head, and there was a sizeable hole where the back quarter of his skull had been. He started to jerk and shake, and Jacob rolled himself out from under the dying man just as the body collapsed onto the cot. A stream of cold moonlight bled into the tent from the small bullet hole, and Jacob peered through it silently, watching as the king’s men tore through the tents and rode down any of Fatih’s rebels they could find. Blood littered the sand, looking like black streams in the shadows of the fire. Smoke and blood and burnt flesh soured the air and Jacob felt suddenly sick to his stomach.
A single scream tore through the other sounds, and he recognized Hadia’s voice instantly.
“No…” he breathed, looking out of the bullet hole just in time to see the adolescent girl being chased down by one of Hassan’s riders. She tripped in the sand and scrambled to regain her balance while the man raised his saber with a bloodthirsty look in his eyes.
“NO!” Jacob screamed as he threw himself out of the tent. His legs felt like jelly beneath him but somehow he forced them to carry him forward until he reached her. “Don’t you TOUCH her!” He pitched himself over the top of her, shielding her from the saber’s blow, and the man halted in mid-action and stared.
Something was shouted in Arabic, and before Jacob could lift his gaze to see what was going on, he was clubbed over the head and everything went black.