Simulated, p.25
Simulated, page 25
I remember when the brothers did it to Kai. I’ll never forget his moans. He couldn’t eat or talk for a few hours, alternating between feverish groans and bouts of vomiting. He barely even recognized me. But he recovered. It took Kai a good 24 hours of pain and headaches for him to bounce back to normal, and the technique doesn’t leave any internal damage—if done correctly. That’s what he’s about to attempt.
I also understand why Kai is nervous. He has never done it successfully. And if he fails this time, he has something to lose. A real person at his mercy. Qadar, a man who promised my goals would be his. Noble’s uncle. Kai can’t fail.
I squeeze my eyes shut, tapping into anything my gift might offer me, but all I hear is a silent prayer. “Don’t worry. Qadar will be fine.” My eyes narrow. “Hurt, but fine.” I’m saying it out loud to believe it myself.
“Jo…” Noble’s eyes are like a wild animal’s, calculating everything at a hundred miles an hour. His whole body is tense, restraining himself. “I can’t lose him.”
My hands hold his face forcing him to look into my eyes, see my certainty. “You won’t. Don’t trust your numbers this time. Trust me.”
Noble squeezes his eyes shut, forcing the muscles in his neck and shoulders to relax. I know how hard it is to do that. To block out your numbers. Especially as a sign of trust. More so when someone you love is on the line. I slowly back off him, and lean against the ruin’s stones, eyes on Kai. Noble moves next to me, his fists still in a knot.
Kai rubs his wrists, warming up. An average fighter might not pick up on why this move isn’t deadly. A fatal blow is usually to the head or neck. But this is to the chest, in a very specific place—to steal your breath.
The girl, Ennéa, who followed him out to the desert, is watching from the perimeter of the Ksar Douz as the desert cools down. The Sheikh backs up beside her. He leans against the crumbling stone walls, peering through the cracks to see if any danger lurks. But Müller’s men sufficiently surround it.
Kai looks at the girl who’s watching every move. “Please turn away,” he says to her. “I don’t want you to see this.” But she doesn’t.
“Please,” Qadar says to Kai. “I have to get back to my family. There are sandstorms in the north.”
I grit my teeth. The message for Kai from Private Global Forces. Qadar is a genius. Only Kai would understand it. The slightest twitch of his lip. “How unfortunate to be on their own.”
Now I get it. Bai’s message is that he can’t help, that his hands are tied. That Kai—and us—are on our own. Suddenly, the weight of this whole operation is crashing down on me.
Kai cracks his knuckles, walks over to Qadar. All eyes focus on him. To Qadar’s credit, he doesn’t look scared.
Noble is staring in disbelief. I pull him closer to me. “Don’t watch. Please.” His ragged breath is in my ear. He’s squeezing his eyes shut, trying to turn off the calculations. Because he knows the odds are slim. He’s choosing to trust me but it’s taking every ounce of self-control he has. His body is shaking as he holds it back.
All I can do is have faith. Kai can get this right. I trust in his goodness. In his ability. That boy thrives on pressure, it gives him focus. I believe he can do this. He has to.
Müller removes the blade Kai threw at the ground, and hands it to Kai. “Go ahead.”
“I already told you. I’m dangerous without weapons.” Kai’s knees bend and eyes close. He focuses himself, drawing in a deep breath. As he exhales, Kai walks up to Qadar, doesn’t pause, doesn’t say a word and in a blink, his hips flex and twist. Like a loaded spring releasing a storm of fury, all his energy and might are executed into one jump. Time stands still, specks of sand fly off his boot. And with one kick, his heel smacks and plants itself into the center of Qadar’s chest. There’s a gasp, choking, a forced exhale. Like the main sail of a ship snapping as the wind drives it. Qadar wavers, his eyes roll back into his head. He falls to his knees and slumps sideways onto the sand.
My throat tightens and my stomach locks up as I see a replay of my sims.
The Sheikh ushers a man over as the other lackeys stare in awe and fear. The servant rushes over to Qadar. They check his pulse and breathing. My flesh chills and my heart pounds in my ears. I believe in Kai, but sometimes seeing makes believing so hard.
The servant looks up at Müller. “He’s dead.”
Müller slithers over like a snake, his band of men behind him. He stretches out his hand to Kai. “Welcome to the Loyalists.”
Chapter 51
IT TAKES ALL the strength I have to hold Noble back, his heart slamming its pain against my chest.
Müller’s lackeys drag Qadar’s body behind another archway of stones leading into the interior of Ksar Douz. Müller and the Sheikh don’t let their eyes off of Kai. Their entourage of thugs stare at him in awe like he’s a newborn legend or a fearsome madman.
Kai smiles, that same winsome grin I’ve seen when he accomplishes a new challenge. Does that mean the body behind him in the dark will still be alive in twenty minutes? He should be—he has to be.
Sweat drips down my forehead, tickling me in this small, cramped space. Noble must be asking the same thing. He’s completely still but his muscles are taut as a bowstring, surely counting down the seconds to when he can get to Qadar.
The Sheikh joins Müller next to Kai. “I see now we have much to discuss. Let’s go.”
Müller motions for everyone to head back, except for a few of his men. “Search the perimeter. There may be others.” He nods towards Qadar’s body. “Keep watch on the area until the festival dies down.” A passing caravan with a string of camels meander past, tourists’ laughter and conversation tickling the air, not a hint of what is near them in the darkening ruins.
“What about them?” one of Müller’s men shout.
“They’re tourists,” Kai replies. “Don’t draw attention to us.” Then men scatter in all directions.
The girl Ennéa walks up beside Kai as he’s stuffing the holothumb back into his boot. He stands up. She touches his face where it’s red and swollen.
“Sorry you had to see that,” Kai says. “You’d better stay with the Sheikh. He’s upset that you followed me.”
“He doesn’t care about me.” She looks his direction, then back to Kai. “Why are you so intent on this meeting?”
Kai stands under the moon, peering out over the desert in my direction, like he’s searching for me. Then he draws the girl close to him, her back to me. They’re body to body. His hand swings low around her waist, caressing her but not in the same way he touches me, this is different. His hand still on her waist, he points west.
He knows I’m watching. He’s telling us to go west, but why? His other hand slides up her body in a way I hate watching, then circles back over her bare arms. He gently pulls the girl’s head close to his, the way he’s done to me so many times. “I told you,” he says close to her ear, “I’m ambitious. And loyal.”
He smiles into the dark night before he walks away with her to an uncertain tomorrow.
Chapter 52
NOBLE AND I sit in agonizing silence for twenty minutes waiting for the rest of Müller’s entourage to leave the area.
Noble’s jaw is clenching and unclenching, and his hands are sticky with sweat. “I’m going down there now.” His face is contorted with worry.
“Wait. One more minute.” My knuckles are white, still holding on to his vest. “There are still men in every direction. Check the tech again.” Hopefully, this will distract him.
He winces. “They’re scanning everything with PSS radar,” Noble says. “We’re pretty much blind right now, at least for an hour. We can’t use any PSS tech, but we have to get to him. Now. I can’t wait any longer.” He lunges forward into the desert.
I sprint after him and push him back against the ruins. “You’re not thinking clearly. Let me go first.” I inch over to the edge of the broken structure that shields us. As the night’s festivities continue, Müller’s men are heading toward town. There is a small entrance on the north side for us to sneak into Ksar Douz. Qadar’s body was near that side of the wall. But if Qadar is alive, he might not be able to stand for more than a few minutes.
“Noble,” I say, “send a text message asking your family to drop another camel near ours tied to that palm.” Then I point out the small entrance. The minute I do, the calculations on Noble’s face are clear. He’s not waiting. He dives out of the structure and dashes to the Ksar. I have no choice but to follow. Apparently, Noble’s numbers help him avoid detection because no one seems to notice us.
The inside of Ksar Douz is empty now. There’s nothing but piles of stone and a vacant ancient courtyard covered in dust and sand, with spots of blood from Kai’s fight. But there are a few of Müller’s men still left patrolling the area. We stay low, sneaking over to where they dragged Qadar. We find him on his back, arms sprawled out on the rocks. His clothes are dusty, and his arms are scratched from being dragged over the rough stones. His face is deathly pale, and his chest is not moving—or at least that is how it appears. When the masters did this to Kai, he was limp and cold. It wasn’t pretty. It was frightening seeing him in that state, even though I knew he was alive. Now, with Qadar, it’s the same. But he should have woken up by now.
Noble frantically checks his pulse, then sighs with relief. “Faint, but there. But he’s not breathing well enough.”
“Adjust his hips, it’ll open his lungs.”
Noble nods, knowing exactly what I’m referring to. He lifts his hips upward, the way you would to a person who has had their breath knocked out of them. Qadar draws in a large breath. Noble’s relief is palpable. Tension drains from his mouth and shoulders.
Then Qadar moans loudly, like he’s drunk out of his mind. My head shoots up to see if anyone notices. No one cares or turns a head.
We sit him up and the moaning gets louder. Noble tells him to quiet down, but he’s delirious. He sounds just like one of the old camels back at Farah’s camp. Someone is going to notice us if we don’t get him out of here.
“I don’t think I can carry him to the camels,” Noble whispers between clenched teeth, struggling to hold Qadar upright. “But bringing them to him will draw too much attention.”
“Kai said west was our best bet.” My eyes chase the moonlight across the desert and forsaken ruins to a distant haze of lights and voices.
“The festival,” Noble says. “There’s a night race coming soon, it’ll be the perfect cover. Let’s head that way.” He shakes his uncle. “Qadar, you have to stand.” Noble manages to get him to his feet. Qadar’s staggering, but like Kai, he’s strong. We check the area and wait for Müller’s men to face the other direction. Just as we do, a group of tourists bumble down the path, making their way to Ksar Douz, drawing their attention to the south side. We head like mad for the camels tied up near the northwest dunes.
We stagger out. Qadar slouches over both Noble’s and my shoulders.
“Let’s hope no one notices a dead man walking,” Noble mutters. “Thankfully, it’s festival time. Staggering men are common right now.”
We make it to the camels and lower one of them down for Qadar to get on its back. Noble has to tie Qadar on to the beast. He’s completely slumped over and still moaning. Then he throws up all over the saddle blanket.
“That was Farah’s favorite blanket.” Noble’s face bunches up. “Let’s get him to my family.”
As soon as we start moving toward the noise and crowds, some of Müller’s lackeys pass us on the north side of Ksar Douz. They go in the same place we came out. Which means, if they investigate further, they’ll discover the body is gone.
Noble notices the same thing. He grabs Qadar’s reins. “Let’s move. Get behind that caravan now.”
A caravan is moving slowly making its way back toward the Festival and the commotion of crowds and stalls and tourists. Thank God it’s tourist season. The camels start jostling up and down. I didn’t realize camels could move so fast.
As soon as we’re near the caravan, Müller’s men exit the Ksar yelling to each other. I’m not sure what they’re saying but I can guess. My heart seizes like a bird caught in a cage. But Noble’s doesn’t miss a beat.
“Come on. I know this desert like the back of my hand. Follow me!” He leads us across the vast plain nudging the camel faster.
The men notice that we’re speeding forward. A few start running, picking up the chase close behind us, while others scramble to where a few motorcycles are parked, but we’re headed where the camel riders are preparing to race. Crowds are gathering to watch. We’ve got about a hundred feet to go when my phone starts ringing.
“It’s my dad.” I yell.
“Don’t answer it! We have to get out of here!” Noble rushes us through another group of palm trees. “Sorry!” he says to tourists and caravans stooped over a water station.
“I have to answer this. Or he is going to kill me!”
“What do you think they’re trying to do?” Noble shakes his head, knowing my next move.
I answer the phone, catching my breath. “Dad, hi.” I laugh awkwardly. The camels bump up and down. My voice goes up and down with each thump. Qadar is groaning like a beast in the background. Noble zips around the hills, leading the way.
“Hi Jo,” he says. “How are you?”
I look over my shoulder at three men chasing us. “Interesting day engaging the locals.”
“You sound out of breath…” he asks. “Everything ok?” The sound of hooves pounding, and now music and horns, and camels groaning in the background only intensify my panting.
“You’ll never guess. I’m riding a camel, actually. And, um, it’s sort of a race. And I’m in the lead, Dad. I really gotta go if I’m going to win this thing. Can I call you tomorrow?” I arch my neck back. Three men are still trailing us from the south while three more arrive on the north, trying to box us in. But they can’t be sure we aren’t tourists because we’re now mixed into the pandemonium of the oasis where horses and snake charmers and tents and foods stalls fill the area.
A few of Müller’s men are up ahead ditching the motorcycles and jumping into jeeps.
“Don’t you guys do any work?” Dad chuckles. “Well, Jo. You were right. Seems like I was worried for nothing. Just glad to hear your voice. One more thing—”
Noble yanks on my camel to pull it alongside his, and the animal bellows.
“I’ve been learning from your example—not letting fear hold you back. And I just want to tell you that I believe in you and I’m proud of you. You’re right to choose a job that can change the world,” my dad says, “Now go win that race!”
My face blanches. “Thanks, Dad. Talk tomorrow?” No time to savor my dad’s words, I hang up just as my camel charges forward with Noble’s. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Crowds line up to see a Berber wedding and all the beautiful people dressed in traditional clothing, performing songs and stories. Other men parade brilliantly decorated horses through the area. Noble leads us to a line of tent stalls and a hitching post for camels.
“We have to ditch the camels at my family’s stall and get to the Jeep.” Noble jumps off and ties its lead rope to a stake in the ground. He helps Qadar off the camel, but he nearly falls to the ground.
“Dehydration from the races.” Noble explains to some curious onlookers.
But Qadar looks so drunk, everyone laughs. “Sure he is.” They laugh. “Too much huka!” Someone shouts. “Look at that drunk!”
I have no idea how to make the camel bend down, so I pull my legs over the side and slide off the beast. Noble’s cousin recognizes me and takes the reins. We get Qadar into the tent where he collapses on the floor just before Müller’s men come around the corner.
In Arabic, Noble explains something to his family and their faces frown. Farah is worried. Qadar’s eyes roll back into his head. He looks bad, but he’s actually tolerating the pain far better than even Kai had. Noble bends down, a hand on his forehead and whispers something in Arabic to him. Qadar’s head sways a bit.
Then Noble stands, taking an off-white colored shawl from a chair, and veils me in it. He takes a traditional Berber robe that looks like Obi Wan Kenobi for himself. “We have to get out of here. Lead them away from my family,” Noble says.
Noble’s cousins come back inside, whispering to him. “There are men patrolling the major roads.” I peek outside of the tent. The three lackeys are still searching for us in the crowd.
“Ok.” Noble looks at me, his numbers clearly at work. “When the races start, we make a dash for the Jeep.”
I nod. When a loud bang in the night air signals the race, Noble grabs my hand. We sneak to a lot where many cars are parked, find the Jeep and hop in.
“Fold in the mirrors.”
“Why?” I ask.
“It’s gonna be a tight squeeze.” He looks at his watch, calculating the right moment. He starts the engine not a second sooner than the moment when the night’s largest festivities explode with fireworks and music. He hits the gas and plows a narrow path through the oasis palms.
“What is this?” I shout over the roar of the car.
“A camel trail. Don’t worry. No one uses it at night.” We speed through, palms and sand flying past us. Engines roar to life behind us in the background. I’m not sure if they’re following us or blocking the roads.
Noble zigzags back and forth, then pulls over and cuts the lights. It’s so dark I can barely see his face. I’m almost glad I can’t because now that we’re alone our conversation from earlier is returning. Except it’s muddled with Qadar and Kai and—Mandel. I gulp the thought away.
“What are you doing right now?” I whisper.
“Calculating.” His tone is low, the frequency rolling much more like a quiet brook. “Sorry. No tech, not even a light right now. Anything could draw them this way. At least the moon’s out.”
