“Listen up,” Pete said. He pointed toward the shed. “I want you all to follow Miss Wendy down the ladder as quickly and as quietly as you can.”
“A ladder?” someone asked. “For what?”
“Is this a drill?” one of the girls asked.
“No. It’s not.”
Panic filled their faces as they looked around, trying to find the threat.
Wendy handed Remi her pack, then took the hand of the first girl, leading her to the tunnel. “Quickly,” she said, her voice and demeanor the epitome of calm. “And no talking.” Remi pulled the Velcro from the hidden slot in her pack, wrapping her fingers around the butt of her Sig Sauer but not drawing it. After seeing the fright on the girls’ faces, she knew the sight of a gun might send them over the edge. Not surprisingly, their attention wasn’t on her and instead was on Pete, who hurried them into the shed. Nasha brought up the rear, looking back toward Remi as Pete led her in. “Down you go,” he said.
“I don’t want to go,” Nasha said.
“It’s safer.”
“But I know where—”
Remi, hearing the vehicles outside the gate, realized they had seconds. “They’re here.” Apparently, that was enough to send Nasha scurrying to the ladder. Remi looked at Pete. “You first.”
“Sam will kill me if anything happens to you.”
“Nice try. I’ll be right behind you,” she said, suddenly realizing Amal wasn’t there. Drawing her gun, she moved to the shed door, opening it just enough to look out. The courtyard was empty and eerily quiet. So far, though, whoever had arrived hadn’t yet breached the gates. She closed the door and moved to the tunnel, hearing Wendy’s soft voice, taking a head count of the students.
Remi looked over at Pete. “Is Amal down there?”
He squinted into the tunnel just as Wendy’s panicked voice said, “We’re missing four girls.”
Remi peered down the ladder, just able to make out Wendy’s face below her. “Who’s missing?”
“Maryam, Tambara, Jol, and Zara,” Wendy said.
Remi recalled three of the girls running off when Nasha came to tell her about the car. “You’re sure they’re not here?”
Nasha squeezed in front of Wendy, looking up at Remi. “I know where they are,” she said, scrambling to the top before Wendy could stop her. “I saw them after I left the office.”
“Saw them where?” Remi asked.
“In the dorm. Miss Amal went to find Zara, and the girls followed her. But something happened to Miss Amal again. They couldn’t wake her.”
“A seizure,” Remi said.
Pete started to open the shed door. “I’ll go look for them, Mrs. Fargo.”
Crack!
The single gunshot echoed through the compound. Nasha ducked behind the raised trapdoor. The girls in the tunnel started screaming.
“Hush,” Wendy said from the top of the ladder. “Don’t make a sound.”
Remi moved next to Pete and looked out the door, thankful the courtyard was still empty. No doubt someone shot the lock off the gate. Putting her hand on Pete’s shoulder, she looked him in the eye. “Whatever you do, don’t come out until Sam comes back. He’ll know to look for you.”
“We can go together.”
“No.” Remi didn’t doubt Pete’s sincerity or bravery, but she also knew that with so many girls to care for, Wendy, Yaro, and Monifa were going to need his assistance to survive until help came. “I’ll be fine. I promise. Get that tunnel closed and keep them calm. Their lives may depend on it.”
“I will.”
Pete followed Wendy down the ladder.
Remi slung her pack over her shoulder, knocking her phone from her back pocket to the floor. Before she had a chance to retrieve it, she heard the sound of car doors slamming, then the crunch of gravel beneath booted feet as someone shouted, “Search every building.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Do not let what you cannot do tear from your hands what you can.
– ASHANTI PROVERB –
Remi glanced back, unable to see her phone in the shadows cast across the rough planking from the north-facing window. With seconds to spare before the men reached the courtyard and saw her, she slipped out.
“Where is everyone?” a man asked from somewhere out front.
“Keep looking. They’re in here somewhere.”
The deep, gravelly tone was undoubtedly that of the scar-faced leader of the ambush, Makao. She had no idea how many men were out there with him, all probably armed with the same sort of assault rifles they’d used during the ambush. As much as she wished she’d had the foresight to open the safe and retrieve the two she and Sam had recovered, she knew it would’ve wasted valuable time. Their goal had been to get the girls into the tunnel without being seen.
That goal hadn’t changed.
Her Sig Sauer was woefully inadequate, and, until she was able to get the four girls and Amal into the tunnel, she wasn’t about to risk getting into a firefight with who knew how many men.
She was relieved to find the dorm unlocked. Just before she slipped inside, she took one last look at the empty courtyard, praying it would remain deserted long enough for her to get everyone out and to the shed. She locked the door behind her and looked around for the missing girls, seeing nothing but bunk beds, neatly made, and a wardrobe against the wall between every other bed. A few wardrobes, she noticed, had doors partially open, and she checked the closest to see if anyone was hiding within.
Deciding the girls would have to be contortionists to fit inside, she crossed to the other end of the dorm, stepping through the bathroom doorway past the large, industrial-sized laundry hampers piled high with used towels. She quickly ruled out the open toilet stalls on one side, as well as the curtained shower stalls on the other. Her gaze landed on the two hampers. Before she had a chance to look, she heard someone rattling the handle of the exterior door, followed by a loud crash as someone kicked it open.
Trapped, she ducked between the hampers, holding her gun on her knees, listening to the heavy footsteps clomping across the floor. The top of the hamper blocked her from seeing out the door, which was to her left, but she had a partial view of the large mirror over the row of sinks to her right and watched the reflection of the two men looking around the dorm. Both carried pistols, one with an AK-47 slung across his back.
“Nobody here,” the first said.
The second man looked toward the bathroom, a pale jagged scar on his face cutting from his cheekbone to his jaw. “In there.”