Blink of an Eye (20 page)

The sheik had spared no expense in training him to be Miriam's protector. Now, for the first time, he would put that training to good use.

He opened the rear door and slid into the limousine. The sheik sat against the opposite door.

“Drive,” the sheik said.

The driver pulled into the street.

“So. What has God told you?” Al-Asamm asked.

“God has told me that he is a God of love.”

The sheik looked at him. “You will go?”

“Yes. I will go. For love.”

The sheik nodded and smiled. “Many have already gone ahead of you. Hilal, Omar, and now the Americans.”

“Good. They will only make my job easier. You're receiving the information still?”

“Yes. You'll know what they know. But we're running out of time. They can't be allowed to reach her before you do, Samir. Hilal, at least, will kill her. And there's no telling what Omar will do out from under my eyes. He won't kill her, but he may maim her.”

“I won't let that happen. You trained me to protect her. I will do just that. And I have the advantage—your daughter knows me. As soon as I'm in a safe position, she'll come to me.”

Samir looked out the side window at the faithful streaming to the mosque and breathed a prayer for her safety until he arrived.

chapter 18

m
iriam sat beside Seth, aware that something special was happening to them. In the few days since she'd learned of her betrothal to Omar, her life had been turned both upside down and inside out, as Seth said.

This unlikely character sitting beside her was the living antithesis of everything she knew, from his haphazard dress, to his whimsical outlook on life, to this madness about seeing into the future. She found him fascinating, which was just as inside out as anything else she had experienced. He should repel her, not attract her. Not that she was truly attracted, at least not in any romantic sense of the word.

No, definitely not!

The entire matter both frustrated her to the bone and thrilled her in a confusing way. If only she could get word to Samir, he would come; she knew he would. He would come for love.

The car veered into an alley to the right, sending her leaning hard to the left. She threw a hand out to avoid falling into his lap, shoving Seth into his door. His head knocked against his window.

“Ouch!”

She righted herself. “You're driving like a madman!” she said.

He glanced in the mirror and slowed, sweat beading his forehead. His mind was on the chase. She doubted he even heard her.

“Are you listening?”

“They know that we're in a blue Sable,” he said.

“They do? How do you know?”

“Because a dozen police cars within a mile of us are looking for a blue Mercury Sable as we speak. There was one coming our way back there, which is why I turned when I did.”

She looked at the approaching cross street. His knowledge of what was about to occur—these possible futures, as he put it—flew in the face of her worldview, but she could hardly deny that he saw things.

“How do you know we won't encounter any police on this street?”

“I don't. I can only see what happens in the next few minutes or so. But I'm pretty sure that if I take a left up here, I can get on 10 headed east without being spotted. It's a future in which we don't get stopped. At least for a few minutes.”

“Why can't you just see what we need to do to escape all this nonsense?”

“That's not the way—”

His eyes widened for a brief moment, and he slammed the brake pedal to the floor. The car jerked to a stop, and she crashed into the glove box.

“Ouch!”

He stared ahead. “See, that's what I'm talking about.”

“You're going to kill us!”

He raised an open hand, motioning her into silence. She looked through the windshield, saw nothing but cars crossing and a teenager with yellow hair walking across the alley mouth, staring at them.

“What?” she whispered.

“A police cruiser must have turned onto that street ahead,” he said in a low voice. “Onto Atlantic.”

“I thought this street was safe,” she said.

“So did I.”

Miriam wasn't sure what to think of these antics. One minute he knew what was happening—or might be happening—the next he didn't.

He faced her. “I can only see what happens to us in different futures, depending on what we do now. And depending on what other people do now.”

His eyes shifted past her, lost in bright blue astonishment. “It's fluid. Whatever happens in this moment changes the next. But . . .”

He looked forward. Their breathing muted the rush of the cars crossing the street fifty meters ahead. Miriam stared at Seth, struck by the thought that she was looking at a miracle. Under his tossed blond curls, behind his clear green eyes, Seth's mind was encountering the future. Like a prophet. Like Muhammad.

He spoke as if to himself. “What I saw a few minutes ago has already changed by what other people have decided to do since. I can stay ahead of them, but only for as far as I see. A few minutes ago I didn't see the police car spotting us on Atlantic. But two minutes have passed and now I do. He must have just decided to turn onto Atlantic, which changed the future. So then I saw a future in which we'd be seen if we proceeded onto Atlantic. But now that we've stopped, the future has changed again. The officer will only stay on Atlantic long enough to look up the street, see nothing, and then turn up another street. So now we should be okay.” He looked at her, a smile twisting his mouth. “Incredible.”

It didn't make sense, not really. Seth eased the car forward.

“You saw all that in the last few seconds?” she asked.

He nodded. “Crazy, huh?”

“But you can't see past a few minutes, so really we could be seen once you turn onto the street anyway?”

“Yes. But, if I'm right, I think I can stay ahead of them. If I could see out even, say, half an hour, they wouldn't stand a chance! Assuming I could keep all those futures in my mind. Incredible.”

He started the car forward, turned onto Atlantic, and headed north toward the freeway that Miriam could see arching over the street about half a mile ahead.

“Like right now, we'll hit the freeway in less than three minutes. I can see out that far.” He looked out the windshield, lost in his own explanation. “And I can see that when we do, we'll be okay. But every second that passes now opens another second of sight for me. Just because I don't see any problems in the next three minutes doesn't mean there isn't a problem waiting four minutes out, created by a decision someone is making now. A chopper pilot might decide to fly over the freeway . . .” He trailed off.

Miriam lifted both hands and rubbed her temples. Her heart thumped, unrelenting. Yes, this was indeed inside out. Seth wasn't seeing the future as a prophet might, in snapshots of events far to come. He was seeing a steady stream of events as they
might
occur, depending on what everyone did. How many possibilities could he see? She was afraid to ask.

“You're seeing more than one future; that's hard enough to believe. And you're seeing them only a few minutes out. I'm really supposed to believe this?”

“Come on, Miriam,” he said with a side glance. “You're smarter than that. This is actually happening. Was I wrong about Hilal?”

“I don't know. We ran off.”

“Ouch. That hurts.”

“You're hurt?”

“No, your doubting me hurts.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. But have you ever heard of seeing a few minutes into the future? Many futures?”

“Seeing many futures isn't a new phenomenon,” he said. “A lot of prophets saw multiple futures. If you do such and such, you'll be destroyed by the Babylonians. But if you do such and such, Jerusalem will be saved.”

Seth turned to the west one block before they reached the freeway.

She looked at him. “I thought we were safe until we entered the freeway.”

“We were. We are,” he said. “But now I see that a mile down the freeway, a cruiser is headed west. I couldn't see that until just now—it was too far out. We need to delay our entry onto the freeway for a minute.”

Even with Seth's extraordinary gift, they were vulnerable. If he made a misjudgment in one minute, they could be caught in the next. And what would happen when he fell asleep? He hadn't slept in nearly two days.

“Do me a favor,” Seth said. “I put the Advil in the glove box. Could you dig out a couple? Thinking like this is giving me a headache.”

She gave him two and he swallowed them without water.

“Thank you.”

They entered the freeway at the next intersection and made their way east, out of the city, where there were fewer prying eyes, Seth said. The fact that this unusual ability had latched itself onto him persuaded him that he should be her guide. He said that much, but she suspected he was beginning to enjoy himself. And if not himself, then perhaps her company.

Three times he pulled off the freeway to avoid detection, twice by regular police and once by an unmarked detective's car. So he said, and she believed him. Each time, he seemed pleased with himself for having avoided trouble. Like a man who'd just discovered he could sit down at a piano and play whatever he wished without practice, the power of his gift intoxicated him.

They turned north on the 15 and then north again on a smaller state highway, leaving the crowded roads behind. They settled into an introspective state, Seth undoubtedly mulling over the next few minutes, Miriam considering what she would do if they escaped.

Where was she running to now? She could no longer say “America,” and, as Seth pointed out, every police officer this side of Las Vegas was on the lookout for them.

Her mind drifted back to Saudi Arabia. Riding in the car, next to Samir. His gentle eyes smiling at her veiled face, knowing what lay beneath. By fleeing her country she had fled him. What was she thinking? He might have come with her. What if she had lost Samir forever? What if by seeking freedom she had consigned herself to a life without Samir?

She cleared her throat. “What will we do next, Seth?” She looked at him. “I mean, if we do escape.”

“I don't know. I've been wondering the same thing.”

“We need to get word to Samir. I would not be here with you if not for Samir. It was my love for him that convinced me to leave Saudi Arabia. The thought of marrying another man made me run. Now I've been delivered from Omar in a way I could never have asked for. It can only mean, that I am meant to be with Samir.”

“I wouldn't say that you're delivered just yet.” He paused, scowling. “Why didn't you just run off to Spain with Samir in the first place?”

“I've told you, I couldn't tell him what I was doing. It was far too dangerous. Both sides would kill him if they learned he was involved.”

Seth said nothing. With a quick glance in his mirror, he pulled off at the next exit, headed for a Texaco station a hundred yards off the road, pulled behind the building, stopped the car for a few seconds, and then drove back onto the highway. This time she didn't ask him whom they had avoided.

“I just think you could have gone about it differently if your objective was to be reunited with Samir,” he finally said.

“Maybe. I'm not exactly an experienced fugitive. Now that I'm here, I realize I have to find Samir again. This whole exercise will be meaningless without him. So, unless you can think of a better objective—”

“Our objective should be to get you to safety. You can worry about Samir later. Right now we have people with guns on our tail—it's not the best time to be getting homesick.”

“Don't be silly! You have no idea where we're going. You're just running away, from one minute to the next. I'm only saying that while we are running, we need to make contact with Samir. I think this should make sense to a mind as perceptive as yours.”

He scowled for several minutes. She wasn't sure if he was irritated or just thinking.

“Can Samir leave Saudi Arabia?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Then why didn't he? With you, I mean?”

“How many times do I have to say he had no knowledge of my plans? If I didn't know better, I would say you were jealous!”

“Please, no. That's . . . that's not what I meant.” But his face had turned a shade lighter, and it struck her that he might indeed be jealous!

She faced the road. Goodness! Was it possible? No, she had to be mistaken. He would know that such a thing was inappropriate. Were Americans so quick to find attraction? Had she sent him even one signal that she wanted his affection? No!

Miriam let out a short, impulsive humph.

Seth glanced at her. “Okay,” he said, swallowing. “You're right. We should make contact with Samir. I'm sorry, I just . . .” He stopped talking.

“Yes?” she said.

For a long time neither spoke. The silence turned awkward.

“We need to get you out of this country,” Seth said. “The State Department obviously wants you as badly as your own government does. They're more interested in keeping peace with Saudi Arabia than in protecting you.”

“Where would you suggest?”

“England, where you should have gone in the first place. They have a history of protecting dissidents.”

“I didn't realize I was a dissident.”

“You are. You're dissenting from your country's prevailing view of its women.”

“Okay, then I'm a dissident.”

“Miriam, the lovely dissident.” He smiled, and the tension in the car eased. “Bottom line is, we need to get you to England, from where it will be much easier to make contact with Samir. Assuming he wants contact.”

“Of course he will.”

“Okay, we'll assume that. The hardest part will be getting you
out
of the United States. I imagine your passport is at Brackenshire's place?” She nodded. “Not that it would help you anyway, now that the State Department is on alert. They've got spotting Arab dissidents down to a science. We'll have to get you out another way, which will probably take more than five thousand dollars. A lot more.”