The Maltese Attack (ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF WAR Book 1) by Jay Perin

Author:Jay Perin [Perin, Jay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: East River Books
Published: 2021-05-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

There wasn’t much of a moon, but Harry could see the yard quite well... the twigs on the ground, the lock on the gate. He could hear the jitteriness in Lilah’s breaths. Even with no wind, it was as though he could feel the air molecules shift with their every step. Adrenaline, he thought, dazedly glancing between the shadowed house and the shed which served as their prison.

Pulse thundering painfully behind one eye, he led the way to the wall and heaved himself up to straddle it. Leaning down toward Lilah, he gripped her upper arms and hoisted her next to him. “Hurry,” she mumbled.

He jumped, landing with a thud. Lilah was already scrambling down, her fingers clinging to the top of the wall and her feet dangling above the ground.

The dirt paths were shrouded in darkness, with mud-brick houses in clusters on either side. A village, as he’d guessed. Harry and Lilah hurried along at a brutal pace under the cover of shadows. They had no idea of the direction they took, their only aim to get far away from the kidnappers before daylight.

At every shout from one of the houses, at every distant rumble of an engine, they dived for whatever cover they could find—the gaps between huts, behind a pile of tires, and once crouched next to a chicken coop which reeked of bird shit. Heart racing in panic, Harry shoved Lilah behind him and scanned the path they just traversed. But there was no one chasing them, no headlights to expose their hiding place.

They couldn’t have been walking long when the huts got farther and farther apart. They were nearing the boundaries of the village. Once they left the settlement behind... water... who knew when they’d find some? Harry’s throat was burning dry by now. Not to mention the dizziness. He could only imagine how Lilah felt. But they couldn’t ask any of the villagers for help. They needed to put as much distance as they possibly could between them and the kidnapper’s stronghold.

“Keep moving,” he said hoarsely. “At some point, we’ll get to the next village. We can get water there.” He fervently hoped so.

They’d been on the move for hours when they came to a small house on its own. Harry crept around the clay building, checking the windows. No panes. Some of the poorer homes in the region barely had basic amenities. This home did have a water tank on the roof, and there was surely an outlet inside.

Someone snored from one corner of the darkened room. Hearing a voice curse in Arabic, Harry froze. The snoring stopped, and the house turned silent. Harry let out his breath.

He moved to the next window. At the third one, he found the kitchen and nodded to Lilah. She quickly joined him and stood with her back to the wall, keeping watch as Harry clambered over.

There were canteens right next to the sink. Opening the tap to a mere trickle, Harry first took a gulp directly from it.

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