The Exodus Quest

II

Reception on Naguib's police radio drifted in and out. He smacked it in exasperation with the heel of his hand. The crackle of static gave way to a burst of speech. 'He's getting out. He's getting out.'

'Seen him.'

'He's going for the train. Stop him.'

'He's boarded! He's boarded!'

'Follow him.'

'Stop the train. Stop that damned train.' A burst of static. 'What the hell do you mean, you don't know how? Follow it, idiot. Get ahead of it. Wave to the driver. I don't know.'

Naguib released his Lada's handbrake, coasted down a slight incline to park in the shelter of trees as close to the Nile's edge as was prudent in this dreadful weather. If his bearings were correct, this was all happening a kilometre or so upstream. He turned his headlights on full, the camber aiming them down so that they painted brilliant yellow ellipses on the Nile's foaming surface, the reflected light illuminating a million raindrops from beneath.

He felt, for an exquisite moment, that delicious moment of stillness when you don't have the answer quite yet, but you know for sure it's coming. And then it arrived.

Light coming from beneath.

Yes!

How blind he'd been! How blind they'd all been!