“I’m cold,” Jol whispered. “And hungry.”
“Me, too,” Maryam replied.
“Scoot together,” Remi said quietly as they sat at the base of a large tree. “You’ll keep warmer. We’ll try to find some food when it’s light.”
“I have food,” Nasha said. She slipped her pack off her shoulders, unzipped it, and pulled out a stale roll, two very bruised bananas, and an apple. The girls split the bananas among them. Remi sat down next to Nasha. “What other kinds of treasures do you keep in that pack of yours?”
“My school board,” she said. “And your phone.”
She pulled out the phone and gave it to Remi. As expected, the battery was dead. Remi handed it back to her, saying, “You think you can hold on to this for me?”
Nasha said yes and returned it to her pack, carefully zipping the pocket.
The four older girls made a bed of dried leaves, curling up tightly next to one another. Amal leaned up against a tree trunk, Nasha in her lap, the child clutching her backpack close to her chest. Remi took the first watch, standing at the edge of the clearing. The forest was anything but quiet. The rustle of leaves in the canopy above mixed with the chirps and buzzing of nocturnal creatures and insects. A snap of a twig just outside the clearing broke the otherwise peaceful sounds. Just as Remi was regretting that Nasha hadn’t been able to get her backpack—and the gun within—a leopard wandered in. It looked over at them with only mild interest in its glowing eyes before slinking off into the night—hopefully, in search of far easier prey.
Come morning, she was going to need to find a very big stick. Breathing a sigh of relief, she moved closer to the girls. But in the three hours she stood watch, the leopard didn’t return. She switched places with Amal, warning her about it just in case.
Nasha stirred, opening her eyes, as Remi shifted the girl into her lap. “How will Mr. Fargo find us?” Nasha whispered.
“Because he’s very, very smart,” Remi said. “Like you.”
Nasha snuggled in closer, alseep within seconds.
Not so Remi. She looked up, a break in the canopy revealing the bright stars set in the black sky. Where are you, Sam …?
Years ago, they’d met by chance at the Lighthouse Cafe in Hermosa Beach. And while she wouldn’t call it love at first sight, by the end of the night she knew he was the one. He’d walked her to her car, telling her that he’d see her again—soon.
“You sound pretty sure of yourself,” she’d told him. “Exactly how will you find me?”
“Do you know anything about constellations?” he’d asked.
Considering that her college major had an emphasis on ancient trade routes, she knew a lot about them. “A bit,” she’d replied.
“That star there,” he said, pointing up into the sky. “The one at the end of the Little Dipper.”
“The North Star?”
“You find that, you’ll find anything.” He stared up at it a moment, then looked over at her. “It’ll always lead me to you.”
“What if we’re in the Southern Hemisphere where we can’t see Polaris?”
He laughed, leaned down, and kissed her for the first time. “Just in case, a phone number works.”
She’d never given her phone number to anyone—and definitely not to someone she’d just met at a bar. But she had that night. And she ended up marrying the man.
Ever since, the North Star had brought her comfort. It did now, even though she couldn’t see it. Somewhere out there, he was looking for her. He’d find her. He’d find all of them. And everything would be right in the world.
All she had to do was keep the girls safe …
“Mrs. Fargo.”
Her head filled with fog, she turned away, trying to capture the dream she’d left behind. She and Sam were running down the beach with their German shepherd, Zoltán.
“Mrs. Fargo,” Amal whispered. “There’s someone out there. You need to wake up. Now.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
The heart of the wise man lies quiet like limpid water.
– CAMEROONIAN PROVERB –
Sam, Lazlo, and Okoro left for the school at dawn, while Okoro’s farmhands, armed with the dead men’s AK-47s, remained behind to guard the property. Sam, at the wheel of the Land Rover, took his time, worried about missing any signs of the girls as he drove.
Okoro sat in the back, leaning forward between the two front seats to see out the windshield. “How positive are you that this Makao did not have them in his truck when he drove down the hill last night?”
“Yesterday, I’d agreed to pay him a million dollars. Last night, he’s suddenly asking for any amount I can get.”
“But he could also demand that if something had happened to them. If …”
They were dead, Sam finished silently. That was always a possibility, but not one he was willing to entertain. “All we can do is go on what we know. We know Makao’s truck came down that hill. If Remi and the girls weren’t in it, then they’re still on that mountain.”
Lazlo looked up from his phone. “Weather report’s forecasting rain for the next three days.”
“Starting when?” Sam asked.
“Later today, with a severe weather advisory the next two days.”
“Let’s hope it holds off long enough to track them.”
Sam kept his eyes on the dirt road, the steep switchbacks slow-going, even if he wasn’t concerned about driving over some vital clue. Twenty minutes later, they rounded yet another sharp turn, this time coming face-to-face with their supply truck, seemingly abandoned.
“Stay behind me,” Sam said, drawing his gun, wanting to make sure they weren’t walking into a trap.
He surveyed the trees to the left of the truck, listening to the sounds, hearing nothing but the multitude of birds. When he approached the vehicle, he noted two sets of footprints near the driver’s door, one being Remi’s, the other set belonging to a man. He followed Remi’s footprints to the cargo bed, where he saw the broken post sticking out the back. Remi had continued past there down the trail, as did several men after her.
What Sam didn’t see were footprints belonging to the children.
Okoro stared down the empty trail. “Where would the girls be if not here with your wife?”
“I have a pretty good idea.” Sam pulled the signpost from the back of the truck, matching it up to the scuff mark on the bumper. “If you’re running for your life, you don’t stop to pick up a broken sign. If you’re hoping to buy some time, you’d definitely want to hide it.”
“Buy time for what?” Okoro asked.
“For Amal and the girls to get away on the upper trail while Remi led the kidnappers here.” They followed her waffle boot prints into the woods. About twenty yards in, her tracks veered to the right, then disappeared altogether. Sam checked farther along the trail to make sure she hadn’t simply been walking close to the edge but only saw the heavier marks left by the men who were undoubtedly searching for her. Remi probably hid while the men pursuing her walked right past. The undergrowth was too thick to see where. “Let’s check back up on the road. See if she came out.”
It wasn’t hard for Sam to find where she emerged from the forest and continued uphill. “Time to see where this leads,” he said, hearing a helicopter somewhere above them. He looked up, saw a military-green aircraft in the distance. No doubt the reinforcements Rube had promised.
Okoro followed close beside Sam. “You’re sure there were no girls with her?”
“Positive,” Sam said. “If I had to guess, she was in a hurry or she’d have found somewhere else to hide that sign besides the back of the truck.”
“But there are tread marks here,” Okoro said, pointing to where another vehicle had clearly stopped behind the supply truck, then turned around, heading back. “They discovered her plan. What if they followed her?”
Sam took a closer look at the tracks where the vehicle had backed up and made a three-point turn before heading uphill. “Other way aro
und. She followed them.”
“How can you be sure?”
Sam nodded to the pattern in the dirt. “Remi’s print is on top, not the other way around.” They tracked her path up the road, while Lazlo followed behind in the car. About a quarter mile up, they found the stump of the broken sign that marked the trail’s entrance. Remi had definitely taken the trail up, as had several men after.
“No kids,” Okoro said, sounding worried.
“Brush marks,” Sam said. “To hide their footprints.” He looked over at Lazlo, who was sitting in the car, the engine idling. Sam looked up at the sky as the beating of rotors grew louder. “Let’s follow this while it’s still fresh.”
Lazlo locked the car and joined them. Sam took one last look around, wanting to make sure that he hadn’t missed anything. The same heavy boot prints were in every direction on the road below them, leading Sam to believe the kidnappers had spent some time in the dark searching for the trail’s entrance. The sight gave him hope that it was enough to allow Remi and the girls to escape.
“Considering all that’s gone on,” Okoro said as they started up the hillside, “you seem confident.”
“Confidently hopeful,” Sam replied. “If anyone has the skill to get the girls to safety, Remi does.”
Lazlo agreed.
The trail was easy to follow in the daylight, and from what Sam could tell, Remi either didn’t have time or wasn’t too worried about trying to cover her tracks, most of which were trampled on by the men pursuing her—four, apparently. “How far would this trail take them?” Sam asked Okoro as a flock of green birds burst from the trees, then settled back into the canopy.
“To Cameroon, should they continue through the park to the border. Several days’ walk in good weather. If it floods …” His voice faded, no doubt thinking about his daughter.
“We’ll find them,” Sam said, and the three men quickened their pace.
After about a mile, the trail was covered by a long stretch of trampled leaves, obscuring any footprints. Remi’s distinct waffle pattern picked up on the other side, along with the men following it.
“I don’t see the children’s tracks,” Okoro said.
“Or Amal’s.” Sam looked back, recalling that their prints were visible just before the dead leaves covered the path. “Wait here.”
Sam jogged ahead, following Remi’s trail. Eventually, it stopped. The kidnappers, however, continued on in that direction. Sam returned to find Lazlo examining the leaves scattered along the trail.
The professor picked up a few of them. “These are damp, the ground beneath bone-dry.”
Okoro crouched beside Lazlo and looked up at Sam. “Would your wife have covered the path to disguise it?”
“In a heartbeat,” Sam said. There was enough brush and fallen leaves on both sides of the trail to obscure the direction they might have taken. “Remi hid the girls off the trail and doubled back, trying to throw the kidnappers off.”
“You’re positive?”
“I’d stake my life on it.”
Unfortunately, Remi’s trail turned cold. They could have gone any different direction. Okoro stood in the middle of the forest, his face looking broken. “Zara,” he shouted.
His voice echoed across the rocky terrain, then died.
The only answer was the snarl of a large jungle cat somewhere deep in the forest.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Despite the beauty of the moon, sun and the stars,
the sky also has a threatening thunder and striking lightning.
– AFRICAN PROVERB –
Deep in the bracken, Remi and Amal put their arms around their young charges. The steady babble of a nearby mountain brook covered the sound of the girls’ panicked breathing as the four kidnappers walked within just a few feet of where they hid. The distant echo of Zara’s father’s voice calling out to her a second time caught Zara by surprise. She shifted, rustling the fronds. One of the kidnappers stopped, looking around. After several tense seconds, he moved on.
A tear slid down Zara’s cheek and Nasha reached up and placed her small hand on the girl’s face. Zara looked down at her, tried to smile, then pulled her in close.
Remi waited until the men were no longer in sight before leading the girls in the opposite direction. Though she was hoping they could double back to the trail, and the school, after that morning’s close call, she worried it might be too dangerous. She surveyed the horizon, noting the dark clouds stirring above the wind-whipped treetops. The helicopter they’d heard earlier was no longer audible, but there was no doubt in Remi’s mind that it would eventually return. And when it did, they needed to be somewhere in the open, not an easy feat considering how they were trying not to be seen by the kidnappers. Her eyes swept over the trees to a ridge high on the mountainside. “If we can get up there, we’ll have a better chance of being found.”
“How long do you think it’ll take?” Amal asked.
“As the crow flies, not long. But we have to take the scenic route.” Remi and Amal led the girls along the creek, following it through the woods, the terrain turning rougher and steeper the longer they traveled. When it became apparent that the girls were too exhausted to continue on, she slowed the pace. Soon, they emerged from the thick forest onto a rough path along rugged cliffs overlooking a vast meadow. When Maryam slipped, scraping her arm on the rocks, Amal rushed over and helped her to her feet. Blood streamed down the girl’s arm and Amal held her hand over the wound. “Not too deep. I’ll patch this up and you’ll be fine.”
With so little cover from the sparse trees on the rocky incline, Remi worried about stopping. But pushing them any farther without a break upped the risk of serious injury. Spying some low-lying shrubs about fifty yards up the trail, she pointed toward them. “We’ll rest there,” she said. Not the ideal location, but better than sitting out in the open.
While the girls huddled together, Amal took one of Nasha’s stolen nails from her backpack and used it to tear strips from the bottom of her shirt for a bandage. Remi searched for a fallen tree limb, finding one about six feet long and the thickness of her wrist.
“Is that for the, uh, walk?” Amal asked when she brought it back. Neither of them had told the girls about the leopard. They had enough to worry about without being stressed about wildlife.
“Multi-use,” Remi said. “A good stick always comes in handy.” She hit one end on the ground, feeling a solid vibration travel up the shaft to her fingers. After removing the smaller branches, she hefted the weight of it in her hand. Smiling to herself, she walked out toward the cliff’s edge to survey the area and plot out their course. If they could find a way down to the meadow, then cross over where the river narrowed, they might be able to cut out the craggy ascent from this side of the mountain. A few feet beyond them, she found a wide fissure in the cliff face leading to a ledge below. From this angle, it looked promising. If they climbed down the fissure, it might open up to a navigable route along that lower ledge. The thought died when she glanced up at the dark clouds and saw how quickly the weather was changing. Rain and rock made for treacherous climbing, especially with novices. Better to go the long way, she thought, returning to the girls.
The poor things, nearly asleep, were covered head to toe with dirt. As much as she wanted to give them more time, she didn’t dare. “Up and at ’em.”
They hauled themselves to their feet. Remi, about to offer words of encouragement, stopped when she heard voices carrying toward them from lower down the slope. Their meager cover would leave them vulnerable. She put her finger to her lips, warning the girls.
Up or down? The choice of which direction turned dire.
She judged the distance to the trees above. They’d never make it in time. The only place was down to the ledge below. “This way,” she whispered, urging them toward the cliff. They balked when she told them they’d have to climb down the narrow channel between the granite slabs. “It looks scary. But it’s easier than you think. You put y
our hands and feet on one side and push your back against the other, using the pressure to hold yourself up. Like Santa in a chimney.”
Amal stepped to the edge. “I’ve done this before. I’ll show them.”
The younger woman lowered herself between the rocks and worked her way down, clearly experienced at climbing. Even so, she hesitated at the end of the fissure, perhaps gearing up for the several-foot drop to the ledge below. The moment she was safely on the ground, Remi turned to the girls. She was not surprised when Nasha volunteered first, intuitively finding toe- and footholds until she reached the end. Amal was there to help her make the jump onto the ledge. After seeing how easily Nasha managed the climb down, the others quickly followed.
Remi took one of the branches she’d torn from her stick to brush away the footprints near the cliff’s edge and scattered leaves over the top to help disguise them even further. She was about to climb into the fissure when she caught sight of a number of fist-sized rocks that had tumbled down the mountainside near the base of the boulder the girls had rested against.
She quickly arranged them into an arrow aimed at the mountainside route she had considered taking earlier, then handed her walking stick to one of the girls before lowering herself into the crevice. And none too soon. The voices on the trail grew louder.
She dropped to the rocky ledge, grateful to find that the overhang, though not quite a cave—and definitely not tall enough to stand beneath—actually offered some protection from the rain. She guided the girls beneath it, as far back as they could fit. Above them, the men started a heated argument as to which way they should go.
“That way,” one said. “Before the rain starts.”
“Pili,” another called out. “Does that look like an arrow?”
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