Louisa crouched outside the tomb, huddled by Chris’ side. Bullets ripped into the earth all around and shards of concrete sprayed up from the path. Fear gripped her in a way that was nearly impossible to contain. She wanted to stand, to run as fast as she could, but she fought her instincts. Chris would know what to do, he always did.
Chris remained unmoved. After glancing around, he ceased all movement, closing his eyes and allowing his shoulders to sag.
Louisa went to call out, to make sure he had not been hit, as Chris shushed her to silence and grabbed her arm to restrain her movements.
“We’re surrounded.” Chris said, opening his eyes. “We have shooters in position in every building facing us. At least three teams. The only thing working in our favour is that they appear to be firing at each other as well as us.”
Louisa instinctively searched the buildings for anything that could verify what Chris told her, but the entire area was so dark she could not discern anything other than the vague outline of the buildings.
“It’s now or never, Carl.” Chris said, leaning over into the tomb. “They’re practically on top of us, mate.”
As Chris spoke, Louisa heard a dull, metallic thud, as something landed on the broken surface of the slab and skidded across its surface. Through the almost midnight blackness around her, she could make out an eighties-style fragmentation grenade, as it missed the hole and slithered off into the undergrowth to their side.
“Jesus Christ!” said Louisa, recognising the shape.
That was the last straw. Without any thought for the gunfire, Louisa bolted from their position and started to sprint across to the presumed safety of the apartment block to their side; Chris growling at the lack of composure as he set off after her.
Bullets tore through the air, as Louisa raced across the small garden. After only a few strides, the air around her rippled. The explosive shockwave hit hard, lifting her up and tossing her forward like a leaf from a blower, sending her and Chris spinning through the air.
Moments later, her feet connected with something solid and she smashed through it, a jolt of pain surging up her legs with the impact. She travelled beyond the object, colliding with solid ground in a dark space, before rolling forward clumsily and coming to rest against something soft.
Louisa lay stunned after her experience. It took a few seconds, but slowly she began to discern her surroundings. It was an apartment. She looked down and saw a busted door blind, silhouetted against the night sky. To her right she could see the crumpled form of Chris, slowly trying to right himself.
“Careful there.” Chris said, crawling over to her. “We need to see if you’re injured. Tell me if you can feel pain anywhere.”
Louisa checked herself and shrugged. Other than the shooting pain in her hips from her collision, she could find no trace of further injury.
“That’s good.” said Chris, standing wearily.
Louisa looked up and saw the blood dripping from the sleeves of Chris’ shirt. She watched as he turned, his back a mesh of lacerations. “You’re hurt, Chris!” she said, startled at the extent of his injuries, “You can’t…”
“I understand I must be badly injured, because my hands are shaking and I think I have a mild concussion. Nevertheless, if we stop, one or all of the people after us will storm in here and kill us. Allow me to get you somewhere safe and then you can save my life. Deal?”
Louisa looked at him and nodded. She knew that it was probable there was little she could do for the wounds in their current predicament. However, she also knew that something must be done for them or it may be too late.
Chris moved across the room, locating an exit. Opening the door, he revealed a dark corridor leading to a set of stairs travelling in both directions. The blast must have blown them through a first floor window.
“We’re going to have to break into one of the apartments on the far side of this corridor.” Chris said, breathing hard and leaning against the doorframe for support. “We can’t risk using the stairs. Hopefully, it will still be dark enough for us to exit the room unnoticed through an external egress point and make our escape to the ground.”
Louisa followed Chris out of the apartment across the narrow corridor to one on the opposite side. He tried the handle, the door giving way easily as the pair slipped inside.
Without pause, Chris stumbled across the dark interior and made his way over to a set of glass doors on the far wall. He opened them and looked out into the pitch-black night, the distant sound of gunfire echoing over the rooftops and drifting inside. He pointed to his right, where a waste disposal pipe attached to the external wall.
“We’re going to have to climb down, aren’t we?” asked Louisa.
“That’s right.” said Chris, trying his best to smile. “I hope you’re in good climbing shoes; no heels.”
Louisa shook her head and went over to the window. She strode beyond Chris, climbing outside, and grabbing hold of the thick pipe to start her descent.
Louisa ably descended with little effort. Once at the ground, she turned and watched as Chris reached out and tested the pipe, before putting his bulk in the potentially unsafe hands of Israeli builders.
As he descended, Louisa could tell Chris was struggling. His left arm was practically useless, and his movements were awkward. He continued on for a few more feet before a light sway made him grasp the pipe tightly. She watched as he shook his head, no doubt trying to quell the endorphins his body was dumping into his system, as he tried to set off once more. As he went to move, his right foot slipped, sending him off balance, and he vainly tried a swipe of his arm to prevent falling.
Louisa looked worriedly up, as Chris wilted off the pipe. He landed on the soft turf in an undignified heap, missing a concrete skirt by inches. She checked his pulse; it was low, but rhythmic. She scanned her environs and located an acacia tree set just to her left. She put her arms under his and started to drag his unconscious form to cover.
The heavy night made any visual confirmations difficult, but Louisa was sure there were two men stood a short distance in front of her, as she reached her destination in the shadows. To her right, she could just make out a second group of men descending on the first’s position.
As the second group approached, a man stepped out in front of the pack. “Ogarf bimkaneek la tetherek!” he said, in a heavy, Middle Eastern accent. “Raweany edeik!”
Louisa could not tell what was being said, but its tone and the hastily made sounds of cocking guns told the story of its intent.
As she watched the groups merge, Louisa caught sight of another figure approaching. The lone silhouette moved quickly with gun outstretched, as it silently made its way up behind the men.
“Aravi Kelev!” the figure said, as it unloaded its weapon into the group.
As the heavy gunshots lit up the space under the tree and startled the birds that nested in its branches she froze, the realisation dawning that the two forms she had first seen were those of Carl and Justin.
Chapter 38