The headache woke Leila up. She squeezed her eyes shut against the pressure. Droplets of sweat trickled down her back and legs while she roasted in a merciless heat. With a groan, she rolled onto her stomach. Her arms shook uncontrollably as she propped herself on one elbow, then the other.
She opened her eyes and waited a moment until her vision came into focus, revealing coarse sand underneath her shadow.
Sand? Why am I lying in the sand?
The question swirled in her mind. Where was she even supposed to be right now? It certainly wasn’t lying here in a sandbox.
With a gasp, she pushed herself upright. She was supposed to be working at the excavation today. Professor Soliman wanted some scans done.
Was that today? Or did she have the day off?
Squinting, she studied her surroundings, the dry terrain full of jagged rocks. A watery haze danced between them and the cloudless sky.
Where am I? Despite the urge to stand up and get a better look at her whereabouts, her legs sat like lead on the ground. She held her head in her hands and tried to recall the last thing she could remember. She hadn’t been drinking, had she? It had been ages since she’d touched any alcohol. Then she remembered. She’d worked late at the lab.
But she couldn’t remember going home.
She rubbed the grogginess from her eyes. She should get out of the sun and do something about the sweat and dirt. A long, cold shower would do wonders. She skimmed her tongue over her cracked lips. Her mouth ached for water. Time to go home and have a drink—she could figure out what happened later.
Her legs wobbled as she stood and her body swayed. She stumbled to the nearest boulder, leaned against the hot, scratchy surface, and closed her eyes until the dizziness went away.
She shifted her weight from foot to foot until her legs steadied, then opened her eyes again and squinted at the horizon. The spot wasn’t familiar, but it couldn’t be far from Saqqara.
With a palm against the side of her pounding temple, she staggered across sand and rocks, then inched her way up an incline. The city should be visible from the top.
The toe of her canvas shoe smashed against a rock and a sharp pain burst through her foot. Growling, she tumbled to the ground. She bit back a curse and lifted her arm. Dirt and blood scraped across her elbow. With a groan, she crawled up the rest of the incline. Upon reaching the top, she plopped herself into the sand and peered into the distance.
Her mouth dropped open.
The desert continued for miles. The wind whistled a lonely song across the ground, puffs of dust blowing along to the tune. She blinked. She must be looking in the wrong direction. Her throat constricted as she scooted in a circle. The same scene greeted her from all angles. Miles and miles of sandy wasteland.
Her stomach turned to a block of lead. Saqqara had to be there. The flat roofed houses. The step pyramids. The Nile. A hot tear ran down her cheek.
“No!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice lost in the dunes.
She dug her fingers into her ratty hair. Maybe Saqqara was near. Maybe she had wandered a bit too far and needed to go back the other way. Except which way was the right way? What had she been thinking coming out here in the first place?
An image flashed before her eyes: cowering, cornered in a dark alley. A strange woman grinned at her and held the barrel of a gun to her forehead. Framed by straight, black hair, the woman’s cold, dark eyes locked on hers.
Memories from the night before flooded back. Leaving the lab, the weird texts from Emma, the crash, running through the market, being trapped in the alley.
Her knees sank to the ground, her fingers feeling her face. A rough line of dried blood ran across her swollen cheek and nose. Her hands moved down to her throat until her fingertips brushed against the tender spot left by the needle. She winced, not needing any more convincing that it hadn’t been a bad dream.
A fist tightened around her heart. She wasn’t supposed to be working today, either. She had the next two weeks off. Two weeks that she should be spending with Xander. Her stomach churned. She should be meeting him at the airport in a few hours.
How on earth do I get back?
She frantically searched her pockets, only to come up empty. No phone. No way to even attempt to make contact. A jolt zapped through her chest. She didn’t even have water with her, either. A person could survive three days without liquids, but in these harsh conditions, her body would dry out fast.
Running her fingers through her hair, she brushed the loose strands from her face. She had no idea when she’d last drunk something or how long she had already been out here. That gave her two days max. Probably one day until she became delirious from dehydration.
But where should she start? If she went the wrong way, she could be lost in the Sahara for days. Her other option was to stay here and wait for help. Except it was more than likely the only person who knew she was here was that assassin. It didn’t make sense for her to leave her in the middle of the desert. Was she planning to come back and finish her off?
Hands shaking, Leila crawled back down the hill to the place where she had woken up and inspected the area. Her phone or wallet could have fallen from her pocket, or maybe her purse had been tossed somewhere nearby. Her captor might have been so thoughtful as to leave her a bottle of water. She searched behind and under rocks for a few minutes but found nothing.
What was this? A slow and painful death sentence? Or a chance to escape? The woman had said she didn’t like to kill innocents, after all.
With nothing else to do, she began to walk. There might be a road or trail nearby. And hopefully edible plants grew along the way. If only the Sahara wasn’t the deadest place on earth. Shielding her eyes with her palm, she squinted at the sun.
The sun rises in the east, sets in the west. She turned until she faced west. But which way was Saqqara from here? She could be on the east side of the city. Or the west side. If she chose the wrong direction, she could end up getting lost for good.
Her stomach churned as she tried to decide what to do. North. That was her best option. Go north and eventually she would reach the Mediterranean, regardless of what side of Saqqara she was on. Or she might come across one of the asphalt highways that crossed the desert. Then, if she was lucky, she could get a ride back. She pivoted to the right and fingered her fissured lip. Her plan wasn’t entirely hopeless, was it?
After a few minutes of stumbling over the uneven terrain, she wiped the sweat from her brow and eased herself to the ground. She would scream and kick something, but she couldn’t waste her energy on that. Still, the anger boiled inside of her.
“I hate you, Faris. Did you hear that? Yeah. I hate you,” she called out to no one. It needed to be said, to be shouted. He’d ruined her life in every way he could. Snatched her mother away and forced her to grow up without one. Tried to get her killed during a heist carried out by his son. And now he’d hired an assassin to finish her off.
With a frustrated growl, she grabbed a fistful of scorching sand and let it run through her fingers. The back of her neck tingled, burning. It was getting hotter. She’d have to find some shade or risk dehydrating and exhausting herself way too soon. Her throat was already tight from the lack of fluids.
The hollowness inside from thirst and hunger was only making her weaker. Without any food or water, there was only one remedy. She’d have to wait for nighttime. It would be cold, but at least she wouldn’t lose energy as quickly and shrivel up like a dried date.
Remembering a small outcrop of rocks she had passed a few moments ago, Leila followed her steps back. She reached the outcrop and, after checking for any desert vipers lurking between the rocks, she crawled underneath, thankful for the shadowy relief from the blazing sun.
As she settled into her sandy resting place, her throbbing headache returned with a vengeance. She eased her eyes shut, imagining the comforting sight of Xander’s face, especially the way his eyes always softened right before his lips met hers, and allowed her fatigue to overcome her hunger and thirst.