Yasmin wondered if she should tell her parents about the symbols and website that seemed to have something to do with the attacks. But how on earth could she possibly explain it without sounding like she was making it up—or crazy?

‘A sunken ship this size is difficult to move,’ a reporter was saying now as the Futura burned low in the Suez Canal behind her. ‘It might be weeks or months before this vital waterway is open again. Speculation is already mounting that this disaster is linked to the shocking event at the Great Pyramid.’

‘Of course they are linked!’ Mr Adib said angrily. ‘Any fool can see that!’

The TV went off and the lights went out. Everyone gasped as the lounge room fell into darkness. They were used to blackouts in Cairo but the timing of this one only added to the feeling that the world was going insane. To make matters worse, Yasmin’s phone showed that Egypt’s network was down. She chided herself for not calling the DARE winners back when she had the chance. They might have been able to tell her something more. Surely they had also realised the symbols of the First Sign were connected to what had just happened.

‘I’ll get my little TV,’ Radha was saying.

The family sat, looking at each other fearfully, listening to the horns, sirens and shouting from out in the street.

Radha returned with her wind-up television. She gave it a few cranks and picked up a fuzzy black-and-white picture.

‘… while the pyramid attack will be devastating for tourism,’ a financial expert was saying gloomily, ‘the Suez Canal incident will have much worse consequences. It’s the waterway that oil tankers and cargo ships use to go from Europe to Asia without having to go around Africa. If it’s closed for a long time, Egypt’s economy could be ruined. That, in turn, could cause a global economic collapse.’

‘Listen!’ Radha said, turning the TV volume down.

Someone was rattling the shop’s shutter, trying to get in!

Yasmin saw grim determination in her father’s eyes as he took Radha’s silver pistol from his pocket.

‘Call your brothers back again!’ he said to his wife.

Mrs Adib stabbed at her phone. ‘It’s useless—the network is still down! Even if I could get through, they’re on the other side of town!’

‘The children,’ Radha urged, ‘we must get them away!’

Mr Adib looked gravely at Mahmoud. ‘I will protect your mother and grandmother and the shop,’ he said, ‘but you must get your sister to the airport. Put her on Felix’s plane, and tell them you want to chaperone her. Insist if you must! Go, now! Take the jeep and—’

Mahmoud shook his head and jabbed a finger at the TV. ‘I can’t, Dad—look!’

The screen’s aerial view of Giza and Cairo showed all major roads jammed with taxis, tour buses, police and tanks.

Angry voices erupted outside the shop. Then came shots and screams.

‘Mahmoud, your bike!’ Mrs Adib said. ‘Go by the back streets. You might get through. Go!’

‘Do as your mother says,’ Mr Adib commanded. ‘I will hold them in the shop.’

Yasmin’s eyes burned with tears. She didn’t want to leave her family like this but she knew she was powerless to help.

Mr Adib gave her and Mahmoud quick hugs. ‘Son, daughter—go! Call us when you can.’

With that, he strode, chest out, from the lounge room and into the shop. ‘Get away from here!’ he shouted. ‘I’m armed.’

‘Come on!’ Mrs Adib whispered. ‘You have to go!’

Yasmin slung her backpack over her shoulder and followed her mother out to the small backyard.

Mahmoud eased his powerful bike to the rear gate.

‘Be careful!’ Mrs Adib sobbed, throwing her arms around her son and daughter, while Radha looked on snuffling.

‘Don’t worry, Mother,’ Mahmoud said. ‘I’ve got this. Here, sister.’

Yasmin shook her head as he offered her his new helmet and leather jacket.

‘I insist,’ he said.

‘No time to argue, girl!’ Radha said. ‘Put them on!’

Yasmin pulled them on and climbed onto the motorbike behind Mahmoud. Hot tears pricked her eyes but she forced herself to be brave as her mother opened the gate that led to the back alley.

‘OK, sis,’ Mahmoud said, twisting the throttle so the engine revved powerfully. ‘Ready?’

Yasmin imagined the map in her head. From here, they had to go back around the corner, navigate dozens of Giza’s tight alleys, cross one of the many bridges over the Nile River, get through central Cairo and then go out past Heliopolis to the airport. It felt like mission impossible.

‘Here we go,’ Mahmoud said.

With a final nod to their mother and grandmother, he shot the bike out into the bumpy lane and weaved between panicking locals using it as an escape route. Yasmin was shocked at what she saw when her brother skidded to a stop at the corner a few doors down from their shop. Their entire street was in chaos. It was so much worse at ground level than it had looked on TV. Stores that weren’t shuttered had smashed windows. Groups of masked men ran with whatever they could carry. Cars and buses were rammed up close to each other, horns honking, drivers yelling, terrified passengers whimpering behind windows.

Yasmin had no idea how they would ever get through this dangerous mess alive.

A police chopper swooped overhead, speakers blaring, ordering residents to return to their homes.

‘Brother,’ she shouted, ‘maybe we should do what they say—go back to our house and—’

The words died in Yasmin’s throat. Through the bitter smoke curling down the street, she spotted … Jackal!

The detective and his minions were outside their store. There were two crumpled bodies at their feet. That’s what the shots and screams had been just a minute ago. Jackal and his gang had murdered those people! Now he was yelling at his thugs to use a fallen telegraph pole as a battering ram on the shutter.

‘Little pig, let me come in!’ he shouted at the door.

Yasmin couldn’t believe it! In all this madness, Jackal still wanted to kidnap her. He had no idea she wasn’t inside.

‘Mahmoud!’ she said desperately.

Her brother let out a cry as Jackal’s gang—

Crrrrunccch!

—smashed the telegraph pole into the store’s shutter.

The blow buckled the metal, leaving an almighty dent. A few more hits like that and Jackal and his gang would be through. Who knew what they would do to her family?

‘Mahmoud,’ she said. ‘We have to draw them away!’

Her brother nodded.

‘Jackal, you son of a shoe. Over here!’ Yasmin yelled.

The detective whirled around. ‘There!’ he shouted to his men. ‘Quick—get them!’

Jackal lurched for his motorbike as his gang dropped their battering ram and made for their own rides.

Mahmoud twisted the throttle. His bike roared.

‘Sister,’ he shouted, ‘you need to hang on tight now!’