to her. He had said he was here to gather some kind of information.
“I’m here on my own business.”
And she would just bet his business wasn’t the good kind. She hadn’t been mistaken when she’d seen murder in his eyes. But as long as it didn’t involve her and he would help her out of here, she was willing to overlook it.
“How long before you leave?”
“As soon as I have the information I came for.” He stood, set down the rifle and pulled up an extra carpet, fastened it to the poles so it neatly divided the tent.
He moved like a warrior, unhurried, efficient. Who was he? Who had he been before joining the desert bandits’ camp?
In some ways, he was very much like the others, just as tough and better in a fight, but a thin veil of civilization clung to him that set him apart, which was especially noticeable now that he let his guard down in front of her.
“Where did you learn English?” she asked.
He worked on fixing the partition without answering. “You may use this side,” he said politely when he was done.
He was confusing the hell out of her. He would allow her out of his sight?
He surprised her further by handing her his dagger. “In case you need to defend yourself. Your continued stay does not make everyone happy.”
She pulled the sharp blade from its sheath with hesitation and stared at it. Why arm her? She could kill him in his sleep.
“You could try,” he said, guessing her thoughts again, and she could swear she saw a hint of a smile hover above his lips. “I wouldn’t recommend it,” he added before turning on his heels and ducking out of the tent.
She spent a couple of seconds staring after him before springing to action, realizing she was wasting a precious opportunity. For the first time in weeks, she was truly alone. Nasir’s tent sheltered her from prying eyes as her prison never had with its wide gaps between the rough boards. She took a quick inventory. Two large water skins hanging from the main tent pole, several bags that looked like they’d been made of carpet remnants and a few bowls that were neatly lined up by the tent wall next to a stack of clothing.
She went to the water first and drank as much as she could without making her pilfering obvious. Then she rummaged through the bags and found food, small canvas sacks that held dried figs and some kind of jerky, probably goat. She hurriedly ate a couple of each as she conducted a thorough search of the tent. She found a cell phone and hope shook her hands as she tried to turn it on, but the battery was dead. It would have been too good to be true.
Still, for the first time since she’d been kidnapped, she had free access to food and water. And she had a weapon. Here, in front of her, was everything she needed to escape.
The more she thought about trusting Nasir’s offer, the worse the idea of waiting for him to get her out of here seemed. She would be a fool to hang around to see if he would keep his word and take her to safety. He could change his mind. Umman could change his mind. Ahmed, who’d been after her from day one, could finally find an opportunity to do her real harm. She would never be safe as long as she was inside this miserable camp.
The only person she could trust was herself. She would save herself. As soon as night fell. Whatever she had to do.
I could kill if I had to. The thought came out of nowhere and took her by surprise. Yes, she could kill, although at a price to herself, both as a doctor and a human being. But she could. When backed into a corner, all living things fought for life.
She hadn’t realized that, not until today when she was dragged from Umman’s tent to be executed. Tonight she would do whatever it took to get away, even if it meant taking another life to save her own.
She tucked the dagger into the waistband of the pants she wore under her long robe. For the first time in her life, the presence of a weapon made her feel better. She stepped out of the tent with caution, intending to go no farther than the semisecluded spot behind the area where the dozen or so camels usually lounged, the place she’d been using to relieve herself.
She’d gone only a few yards from Nasir’s tent, dodging the men who were going about their business, when Ahmed spotted her and strode over, his fat mouth set into a thin line of displeasure. He marched his pudgy body through the sand with jerky steps, keeping his small, dark eyes on her, yelling from afar. “Woman! Whore!”
She stopped, hoping he wanted nothing more than to give her some small, humiliating task as usual, like scraping goat dung from his sandals. She would quickly do whatever he required. Tonight she’d be free. She couldn’t allow anything to get to her.
“You feed camels. Water camels,” he said.
Taking care of the animals was his responsibility—every man had his own task to keep the camp running. He was probably angry that Nasir had stopped her execution. He was probably looking to reassert his authority over her, to show her that as long as she was in camp, she would remain their slave.
Sadie nodded, the very picture of obedience, and cast a worried glance toward the camels, making sure she looked fearful, hoping that would be sufficient. Ahmed usually left her alone once he figured he had tortured her enough for one day. If he thought the task left her trembling, he might be satisfied with that and not think up any further ways to distress her.
The animals were twice the size of camels she’d seen in Yemen at the market where the local Doctors Without Borders liaison had taken the group of international physicians she was a part of the day after their arrival at the small field hospital.
The trip to the market had been the first and last that she’d been able to participate in. Three days later, the hospital was raided, the supply room robbed. She had the misfortune of being inside it when the bandits had come.
“Work,” Ahmed shouted at her and shoved her forward.
She moved obediently, semisecure in the knowledge that now that Nasir had claimed her, Ahmed could only demand work from her and nothing more. He had come to her during the night once before, insisting on another kind of service. By putting her body weight against the door of tightly tied branches, she’d been able to keep him out. Her prison, devised to prevent her from escaping during the night, had saved her.
He was yelling at her in Arabic, and she picked up the pace, walking toward the tent Ahmed shared with three others and the large bags of camel feed. She hadn’t seen Nasir’s shorter, leaner camel among the rest of the beasts. He’d probably ridden out of camp.
Her instincts prickled when instead of going off to enjoy having passed on his morning chores, Ahmed seemed intent on following her inside the tent.
“I feed the camels,” she said as she stepped through the flap, keeping her head down in an attempt not to anger any of the other men she’d expected to find inside.
The tent was empty.
She couldn’t step back. Ahmed was right behind her.
Get the work done, get out. Fast.
She went to the sacks, filled the bucket, moving purposefully, ignoring the bad feeling she was getting from the man who watched her.
He made his move as she was about
