“The helicopter?” Remi smiled. “Of course it’s coming back.”
Unfortunately, the other girls keyed in on Nasha’s fear, their concern moving to the patch of angry gray sky above them. “Why’d it leave?” Jol asked. “It was almost all the way here.”
Nasha’s eyes welled with tears. “Because Boko Haram were shooting at them. They’ll never come back. They can’t.”
Remi kneeled down next to Nasha, drawing her close. She’d never seen the girl this frightened. “I don’t think they’re Boko Haram at all. I think they’re Fulani cattle rustlers.” Though she’d heard tales of some Fulani herdsmen being equated with Boko Haram, killing anyone they deemed a threat to their pastureland, she wasn’t about to mention that fact now. The girls had enough to worry about. “They probably thought that helicopter was trying to bring them in for stealing the cows.”
Jol turned in panic toward Remi. “They won’t kill us, too, will they?”
“No,” Remi said, looking at each girl in turn. “I won’t let anything happen to any of you.”
“You can’t promise that,” Nasha said, pulling away from her. “You don’t even know.”
Zara’s eyes widened. “You’re scaring me.”
“You should be scared. They killed everyone in my house. The only reason I didn’t get killed was because I got scared and ran away.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance. Remi stood. “We have to leave.”
Nasha shook her head, turning away, tears running down her face. “I don’t want to go.”
Jol crouched down in front of her. “We can’t go without you.” She tried to pull Nasha to her feet.
“We’re just girls,” Nasha whispered. “They have guns.”
Maryam crouched down beside Jol. “But you tricked the Kalu brothers.”
“Because I was pretending to be a boy,” Nasha said. “If I was being a girl, they would’ve . . .” She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, then looked away. “It doesn’t matter.”
Zara, perplexed, said, “But you saved us. You’re the brave one.”
“I’m not. I’m afraid all the time,” she said. “I’m afraid right now.”
The girls stared at her, their eyes wide with surprise. Zara’s sought Remi’s. “Are you ever afraid?”
“Of course,” Remi said, anxious. “What matters is what you do with that fear.”
“I’d run away,” Zara said. The other girls agreed.
Nasha said, “I wanted to when Mr. Hank said I stole those nails. I didn’t steal them. I found them.” She gave a firm nod to prove her point. “It’s his fault we’re here. If he hadn’t gotten sick, Mr. Fargo wouldn’t have had to leave. He would’ve saved us.”
Amal offered her a timid smile. “We got in trouble because of me. Something happens and I shut down. You saved us because you didn’t run away.”
“But I wanted to,” she said, her voice small as she wiped away tears.
“Sometimes,” Remi said as a gust of wind swept in, “that’s the right thing to do. The secret is to know when.” She held out her hand, breathing a sigh of relief when Nasha grasped it. What she couldn’t ignore was the sound of rushing water deep within that crevice and the growing stream filling their path. “Watch your step,” she told the girls.
Remi led, Amal brought up the rear. Though the trek to their new shelter hadn’t taken long, it was slow-going with all the girls in tow. The runoff from the mountain above channeled down the numerous crags. Rivulets of water splashed across the ledge, creating treacherous silt-covered fissures that gave way, ready to catch the unwary traveler.
About thirty minutes into their journey, one of those rivulets widened considerably, washing a two-foot gap in the trail. Remi stopped, poked the other side with her walking stick, felt solid rock, and jumped across. She turned, holding her stick out toward Nasha. “If you slip, don’t let go of the stick. I’ll pull you up.”
Nasha grabbed the staff but hesitated as thunder echoed across the mountains.
“It’s okay,” Remi said.
Nasha jumped. Each of the girls followed. The sky let loose, rain pelting them, as they continued up the cliff. As they neared the shelter, Remi stepped over a narrow rivulet, then turned to make sure the others saw it. She called out, her voice lost in the rush of wind, but Nasha nodded, easily stepping over. Jol followed. As Nasha’s foot hit the other side, the ledge disintegrated, plunging her downward in a torrent of water and mud.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
He who learns, teaches.
– ETHIOPIAN PROVERB –
The girls screamed as the ground disappeared beneath Nasha’s feet. Remi grabbed her arm and dragged her back as the crevice widened at an alarming speed. When she looked down, she saw Jol about twenty feet below, precariously balanced on a narrow outcropping of rock.
“Don’t move,” Remi shouted to her, then turned her attention to the other girls. She held the stick out across the open space. “Grab it, Maryam.”
“What about Jol?”
“I’ll get her.”
Maryam wrapped her fingers around the thick staff but didn’t move, her eyes locked on her fallen friend.
“Don’t look down. Look at me. You can do it.”
She gave a hesitant nod and jumped.
When everyone was across, Remi shouted to Amal, “The cave’s not much farther. I’ll be right behind you as soon as I get Jol.”
Amal nodded. “Let’s go, girls. They’ll be fine.”
Remi moved to the edge of the gap and slid down the cliff, the progress slow as she braced herself with her walking stick in some spots and blindly felt for solid finger- and toeholds in others. Finally, she reached Jol, the poor girl’s eyes wide with fright. “Are you okay?”
She nodded.
“Take my hand,” she said, reaching down. She wrapped her fingers around Jol’s slim wrist. When she was safely in front of her, Remi instructed her where to place her hands and feet as they slowly worked their way up to solid ground. Several times Remi searched the horizon, praying the helicopter would return while they were there on the open cliff where someone might actually see them. But as they ducked to the ground with each wind shear that threatened to rip them from the ledge, she knew help would not be arriving by day’s end.
At least they’d have a safe and fairly dry spot to spend the night, she thought as she hustled Jol beneath the overhang. Amal tore off more strips from her shirt, wrapping one around a cut on Nasha’s leg, and another on Jol’s right forearm, scraped raw from her fall.