Makao started to turn away when he seemed to notice Nasha for the first time. He scrutinized her for several interminable seconds, his gaze narrowing, when two of his men appeared from the back of the compound.
“The place is deserted,” one of them said. “But there’s a huge pile of dirt behind that building.” He pointed toward the supply shed. “We can’t figure out where it came from.”
Scarface looked at Remi for an explanation. “Well?”
“Honestly, I have no idea,” she replied, grateful his attention was no longer on Nasha. “I’ve only been here a few days. But I’d assume it’s topsoil from the firebreak around the school.” She nodded toward the garden area. “They’ve been using it in the planters.”
She hoped he’d believe the partial lie. The area outside the fence was plowed regularly as a firebreak to separate the forest from the school, but it was clearly contaminated with grass and weeds—which easily could be seen if they walked outside the courtyard for a closer look.
He seemed to buy it. Her relief was short-lived when his interest focused on the shed. “And why is that building round? Different from the others?”
“It was an experiment in recycling.” From the corner of her eye, she saw the older girls looking at the shed. Keeping her voice nonchalant, she added, “They filled the plastic bottles with dirt and used them for the walls.”
He studied the structure. “What’s in it?”
“Tools. Feed for the goats and chickens. Nothing much.”
“I want to see this bottle building.” He and two men walked toward the shed, stood in front of it a few moments, discussing something she couldn’t hear.
Nasha had an innate sense of timing. The moment the men looked away, she dashed toward the planter, ducking out of sight.
Amal stared after her, then leaned toward Remi. “You’re sure that’s a good idea?”
“Worst case? They catch her and she ends up here with us.”
“You’re positive about that?”
If anything happened to Nasha, Remi would never forgive herself. But she’d seen the child in action, feeling certain that she had the skills to survive. “Yes.”
For the first time since they were captured, a sense of hope filled her. “Say nothing,” she told the other girls as Nasha scurried toward the picnic benches and behind the tree. A moment later, they saw the branches above moving. “Whatever you do, don’t look up there. If they find her . . .”
The girls reluctantly tore their gazes from the shade tree and watched as Makao pushed open the door. A clatter inside sent him and the other men back a step, all of them pointing guns into the building. As Makao nodded to the man on his right to go in, she prayed the girls down in the tunnel stayed silent.
The guard entered, his weapon at the ready.
Remi forced herself to breathe evenly. If Amal or the girls suspected that building was anything more than an empty supply shed, they’d all be in trouble.
The guard finally appeared in the doorway—then stopped to pick up something from the floor before stepping out.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Please don’t let it be my phone . . .
“What is it?” Scarface asked.
He held up something too small for her to see. “Nails. I think they fell from the shelf when the door hit it.”
Scarface nodded.
Thanking the stars that Hank had stacked the nails in so precarious a place, Remi let out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding. Nasha was safe. Wendy, Pete, and the students hadn’t been discovered.
For the moment.
Amal leaned toward her again. “What if Nasha can’t figure out how to work the phone?”
“Sam will know something’s wrong when he can’t get in touch with me.” No doubt Sam had dropped off Hank at the hotel and was on his way to town to find out what he could about Nasha from the remaining Kalu brother. She only hoped the delay wasn’t going to cost them, since he still had to pick up Lazlo from the airport. If—and it was a big if—Pete and Wendy somehow had cell reception in the tunnel, Sam already knew of their plight and was on his way back. If not, it was up to Nasha to tell him—assuming she could get back into the shed, then find and work the phone.
Right now, though, they needed to get into the office. Without those truck keys, they’d have no way of getting out of there. That part of the plan was going to take a little more finesse, she thought, watching as the man tossed the nails back into the shed. When he returned to stand guard over them, Remi said, “How long are we going to be here?”
“Long enough.”
“And when we have to use the bathroom?”
“Do you think I care?”
“You better do it soon. Or whoever ends up riding with us is going to wish they’d listened.”
Maryam glanced at Remi, then at their guard. “I need to use the bathroom.”
“So do I,” Zara said.
“I do, too,” Tambara added.
Makao looked over at Remi, suspicious. “You put them up to this.”
“I assure you, I said nothing. Lock us in the dorms, if you must. We can use the bathrooms, and the girls’ beds are there. They can rest while you’re . . . doing whatever it is you’re doing.”
“Where else are there bathrooms?”
“In the small building, out front. But there’s only one door and it’s crowded. We’d have to sit on the floor.”
“I don’t care where you have to sit.” He looked over at Pili. “Move them there. They’ll be easier to watch.”
Pili ordered the hostages to stand, taking hold of Remi’s arm. “Get going.”
The girls filed out of the courtyard and across the graveled drive toward the office, Remi, still held by the guard, bringing up the rear. Makao walked in first, taking a look around on his own, then exiting. “Leave them inside.”
“What about our hands?” Remi asked. “At least tie them in front.”
“I’m sure you’ll make do.” He looked at the guard. “No one in or out. You do not leave this doorway.”
“Understood.”
The moment he walked out, leaving Remi and the girls alone, she smiled.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The strong do not need clubs.
– SENEGALESE PROVERB –
The two boys led Sam through a maze of streets and pointed down a narrow alley. “It’s a secret where Kalu lives,” one of the boys said. “You can’t tell anyone.”