Doctor Eleanor Vance's smiling face on the laptop screen was like an omen, a calm and composed prediction of their inevitable doom. Her words hung in the air inside the car, thick and poisonous. "This canyon is not going anywhere. And neither am I."
It was not just a threat; it was a statement of fact. They were trapped in a narrow, rocky maze, and their predator, sitting comfortably in a chair thousands of miles away, was patiently waiting for them to surrender.
"What do we do, Mayra?" Sara's voice had shrunk to a frightened whisper. She was huddled in the back seat, her eyes darting between the laptop screen and the headlights of the sport utility vehicle behind them. "We cannot surrender to her. You know her. She will… she will just use us and then…" She did not finish her sentence, but the meaning was terrifyingly clear.
Jerome's face was red with a mixture of anger and helplessness. He slammed his fist against the steering wheel. "There has to be a way out! There is always a way out!" he shouted, and he pressed his foot harder on the accelerator. The old engine of the Land Cruiser groaned in protest, but the vehicle surged forward, bouncing violently over the rough terrain.
"Jerome, no!" Mayra yelled, grabbing onto the dashboard to brace herself. "You are just wasting fuel! We cannot outrun them! This is what she wants—for us to panic!"
"So what should I do, Mayra?" he shouted back, turning to look at her for a split second. "Should I stop the car and open the door for her agents?"
"No!" Mayra said, her own voice sharp as a whip. Her eyes were scanning the canyon walls like a hawk, searching every crack, every shadow. "We think. We fight. But we do not act like fools."
Eleanor had not disconnected the video call. She was silently watching their little drama unfold, a faint, cruel smile playing on her lips. She was enjoying their desperation.
She wants us to turn on each other, Mayra realized. She looked at Jerome, her voice now calm and firm. "She wants us to panic, to fight amongst ourselves, and to make mistakes. Keep your eyes on the road, Jerome. Do not give her what she wants."
Jerome took a deep, shuddering breath and relaxed his death grip on the steering wheel. He fixed his gaze back on the path ahead. Okay, 'Doctor.' What is the plan? he thought.
Mayra turned to Sara. "Sara, you know the desert. Your grandparents used to tell you stories. About canyons like this, the 'wadis'… is there ever an old, forgotten way out?"
Sara closed her eyes, trying to access a faint, distant memory. "They used to say…" she began slowly. "…they used to say that every wadi has a 'serpent's hole.' A very narrow path, used only by foot travelers or goats. It is often found in the deepest part of the dry riverbed."
"The riverbed!" Jerome exclaimed. "This canyon is a dry riverbed! We just have to find it!"
It was a small hope, a thin thread. But right now, it was all they had. They scanned the floor of the canyon, but in the darkness and at high speed, it was nearly impossible to see anything clearly. Behind them, the black sport utility vehicle maintained a disciplined distance like a patient predator.
"There!" Sara suddenly shouted, her voice echoing in the car. She pointed to the right. "I saw something! Behind those rocks!"
Jerome slammed on the brakes. The tires skidded on the sand and gravel, and the car came to a screeching halt. They looked back. The sport utility vehicle had also stopped, its occupants waiting and watching.
Mayra and Sara grabbed their flashlights and jumped out of the car. They ran towards the spot Sara had indicated. And there it was. At the base of the canyon wall, hidden behind some large, fallen rocks, was an opening like a crack. It was just wide enough for a person to squeeze through sideways.
"We found it," Mayra said, breathless.
They ran back to the car. Jerome looked at the narrow opening, then back at their vehicle. "They will catch us on foot. They have a drone."
Mayra looked at the dark silhouette of their old Land Cruiser, then back at the approaching headlights. A dangerous, almost insane, gamble formed in her mind. It was a plan based not on logic, but on the one weakness she knew Eleanor possessed: her arrogance.
"Get the essentials," she said, her voice suddenly calm and decisive. "We are abandoning the car."
Jerome and Sara stared at her as if she had lost her mind. "Abandon it?" Jerome asked. "With everything inside?"
"Just trust me," Mayra said, her eyes meeting theirs. "Her arrogance will be her downfall. And our only escape."
It was a dangerous gamble, but they had no other choice. They worked quickly. They grabbed their bags, filled their water bottles, and Jerome put his laptop into a special shock-proof case.
"I am leaving them a little parting gift," Jerome said with a cunning smile. He pulled some wires from under the dashboard and set up a small, palm-sized device. "An electromagnetic pulse generator. Not very powerful, but its burst will disable all nearby electronic devices for a few hours. Goodbye drone."
They got out of the car and ran towards the rocks where the secret path was.
"Now!" Jerome said, pressing a button on his phone. The headlights of the Land Cruiser suddenly turned off, plunging the canyon into complete darkness.
It was the signal. The Syndicate team would think the car had malfunctioned.
They did exactly what Mayra had hoped. Their sport utility vehicle moved forward cautiously and stopped near the Land Cruiser. Two armed agents got out, holding assault rifles, and moved tactically towards the silent vehicle.
Mayra, Sara, and Jerome held their breath, watching from behind the rocks.
As soon as one of the agents opened the door of the Land Cruiser…
A faint blue light flashed for a split second, followed by a suppressed, sharp humming sound. The two Syndicate agents fell back with a jolt, stunned and disoriented. The lights of their sport utility vehicle flickered and then died. Their earpieces were now useless.
"Let's go!" Mayra whispered.
And they slipped into the dark crack.
They ran. The path was rough and treacherous, the steep incline burning their lungs. But they kept running, adrenaline and the will to survive pushing them forward.
After several hours of continuous climbing, as the first rays of the sun were drawing an orange line across the sky, they emerged from the tunnel-like path.
They were standing on a vast, flat plateau, high above the canyon. The endless, golden desert stretched out all around them. They were free. Tired, bruised, but alive and free.
"We… we made it," Sara said, panting, and collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion.
But their relief was momentary.
Mayra scanned the horizon across the plateau. And what she saw made the blood freeze in her veins.
In the distance, at the other end of the plateau, where their next landmark—that giant stone door—was visible, another vehicle was parked. An old, familiar looking Land Cruiser.
And next to it stood a man, making tea in a small kettle over a fire.
It was Attar.
He was smiling, as if he were out for a morning stroll and had just happened to run into them.
How could this be? Was this all part of his plan? Had he deliberately pushed them into this dangerous, deadly chase?
Was he a guardian, or was he a cruel puppeteer who enjoyed watching his puppets dance in danger?