The Sanctuary

Chapter 7

Adrenaline flooded Mia’s veins as she advanced cautiously through the bustling arcade, desperately scanning the crowd for any sign of her mother while trying not to draw attention to herself. She had lost precious seconds cutting through the surge of traffic and skirting around the blocked BMW, and by the time she finally made it to the pedestrian zone, the android and his buddy were nowhere in sight.

Reaching the end of the covered passage, she had no choice but to give up the relative cover of the colonnade and step out into the openness of the piazza, which sloped gently down towards the clock tower. The air around her was charged with a disconcerting blend of indomitable festivity and lingering sorrow. Hoping she wouldn’t get spotted, she slipped between the rows of diners, her palms wet with apprehension, her eyes searching for any sign of Evelyn or her pursuers.

The crowd momentarily opened up before her, and her heart froze as she spotted her mom, around a hundred yards or so up ahead, talking to a man Mia didn’t recognize. Relief washed over her for an instant — Evelyn was right there, talking to someone she clearly knew, everything was going to be just fine — before she saw the man suddenly react to something and grab Evelyn before they ran off together.

The urgency of his reaction jolted Mia. Quickly casting a glance around the piazza, she spotted the android and his buddy, halfway between her and Evelyn, not quite running but moving as swiftly as they could without attracting too much attention.

A fear the likes of which she’d never experienced in her sheltered, academic existence spiked through her and nailed her to the ground. She felt like calling out for help, but there was no familiar face to turn to, no cops to enlist, and no time to think.

She cast aside her fear, summoned her legs back to life, and tore off after them.

Farouk and Evelyn hurried down the pedestrian plaza, slicing through the crowd, moving with no particular escape route or plan in mind, both of them darting terrified glances back at their relentless pursuers while struggling to stay ahead.

“Farouk, stop,” Evelyn yelled out, her voice ringing with irritation and panic. “There are people all around us. They can’t do anything here.”

“They don’t seem to mind,” he fired back without slowing down. He would have taken the risk — maybe — had the Parliament building’s soldiers been within reach, but by the time he’d spotted the two men chasing them, they were already between them and the soldiers, and there was no way he and Evelyn could circle back to get to them.

Something suddenly caught his eye in the crowd ahead of them. Another man, same tightly drawn mouth, same icy stare in his eyes. Walking calmly towards him and Evelyn, his hand moving to the inside of his jacket where Farouk was sure he glimpsed the handle of a holstered gun.

Farouk saw a side street open up to the left and dived into it. It ran uphill for a hundred yards or so and led to a mosque that was at the edge of the pedestrian area.

Evelyn stumbled through the turn and righted herself quickly. Her breathing was now labored, her legs were already hurting, and it was clear she couldn’t keep this up much longer. She was in reasonably good shape for someone her age, but she hadn’t run like that for, well, ever.

They kept going, leaving behind the bustle and bright lights of the piazza, their footfalls echoing in the tunnel of darkness that now surrounded them. A thought suddenly struck her. Farouk didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know Beirut well, if at all, and it didn’t make sense that he should be leading her. Evelyn knew the downtown area pretty well, but she wasn’t familiar with that alley, and surely it made more sense to stay with the crowd. Plus, going uphill, even up a soft incline such as the one they were now on, wasn’t helping.

“Farouk, listen to me,” she called out, breathless, “we need to find some cops, someone who can protect you—”

“No one can protect us,” Farouk snapped, his voice cracking with desperation, “not from them, don’t you see? We’ve got to find a taxi, a car, something—”

His voice cut off as, from behind them, the staccato claps of three sets of urgent footsteps sliced through the night and bounced off the walls around them. The man with the holstered gun had joined his two buddies, and the three of them were reeling Farouk and Evelyn in now that they didn’t have to worry about drawing attention to themselves.

Evelyn was finding it harder and harder to keep going with every step and was just about ready to give up when a narrow side street opened up to their right, running alongside the rear wall of the mosque. It led down to Rue Weygand, a major avenue that was busy with evening traffic — and taxis.

The sight invigorated her and seemed to have the same effect on Farouk. “Come on,” he screamed out, as they cut right and hastened down the deserted alley, gasping for breath as they rushed towards the bright lights and possible salvation up ahead.

They were halfway down the street when Evelyn saw a lone car turn into it and head for them.

It was a black BMW.

Farouk beelined for the car and started waving at it frantically, yelling out the local equivalent of “Help!” but Evelyn slowed right down, suddenly fearful. She could make out a man silhouetted inside the car, backlit by the bright street behind him. He looked as if he was holding up a phone to his ear.

Something told her he wasn’t there by chance.

“Farouk,” she cried out to him, “wait.”

Farouk lurched to a halt and turned to her, out of breath and confused. Evelyn was still eyeing the car suspiciously when it suddenly stopped in the middle of the alley, its engine still running ominously. Then the driver flicked the high beams on, flooding the street with harsh, cold light.

Evelyn took a couple of steps backwards, shielding her eyes from the blinding light, then the noise behind her drew her attention. She turned to see the three men who were chasing them burst into the alley, clearly lit by the car’s headlights. They stopped when they saw her. One of them had a phone in his hand, the clamshell type, and he snapped it shut and pocketed it. He looked around to make sure they were clear and nodded to his buddies. Evelyn heard the car’s doors click open. She spun around and saw the driver emerge from the car.

She looked at Farouk. He was standing there, as frozen in fear as she was, while the four predators closed in on them, the black BMW with its door wide open purring in the background like a hungry wraith waiting to be fed.

She started to scream.