Hello all! Again we return to the Tale of Sarah . . . Be afraid, Doom and Disaster is Very Close.

Basma screamed, a piercing scream that made me return to consciousness . . . my breathing was heavy and my brain was deprived from the lack of sleep, Mr Hussain twisted around before I did. A man wearing green ( camouflage? ) was staring at me, his hand toying with a pistol. He raised it-

I braced myself for impact and started chanting Alhamdulilah, Alahuakbar, in my mind. If I'm dying then I was meant to die -

Mr Hussain jumped in front of me just before -

BANG!

Just like that night.  Mr Hussain fell to the ground. He gave me the one split second I needed but I couldn't take it -

" Thank you, " was all I could conjure as he took his dying breaths. 

My heart broke. He wouldn't live. His life was over. And he did it to save mine

I saw him return a nod with difficulty and I gazed at him. I saw his lips, trying to form words, Sarah -

" Come on! " Screamed Basma, grabbing my hand. I stared at the murderer of an innocent man. he stood in front of me tall and menancing, a cruel smile of satisfaction on his evil face.

I was ready to explode. I roared at him, just about to race right into him and pound him to death -

Basma saved me from dying, although at that moment I didn't realise it and tried to tear from her grasp but she held on firmer and I started digging my nails and mouth into her arm but she didn't let go, only endured the pain like the true hero she was. She began to pull me forwards, pushing me left and right to avoid the banging behind us. Bangs from guns obeying their relentless, emotionless masters.

More and more army men were racing into the tunnels, the same haunting look on their faces. No emotion. Like they were set a job to do and had to do it, which was probably true, a bit like those soldiers from the poem The Charge of the Light Brigade -

I couldn't care less.

Rage screamed inside me, I pictured the horrible army staring at us with torchlights, guns aimed at us, all either murderous schemers or cowards. I could feel someone of them aim for us, no emotion. A torchlight lit up our way but Basma grabbed me and pushed me towards the wall where we could remain unseen. 

BANG! Screamed a gun and I watched a bullet soar through the air right to where I once was. I shuddered at how close that was.

 I twisted around and glanced at them, a fading light behind me,all of them either people like stupid Black-man, such a coward that he couldn't even stand up for us, there were enough stupid people like him to create an army, to fight back . . .

My anger was now directed to Black-man and cowards like him, then I thought of the man in charge of all this. 

The man in his expensive suit drinking out of gold glasses in a beautiful palace with his content little family smiling and laughing, eating to their hearts content and doing whatever they willed, servants running after them and following their orders. Hundreds of neighbourhoods having nice, normal lives. Everything wonderful. 

Then there's the people like me. Half-starved, out of their minds with grief and misery, stuck in a filthy underground tunnel, never breathed fresh air or ever felt close to happy.

 I realised then and there I hated them, I fumed with hatered at the thought of anyone involved in the president's murderous plot. The way he'd weaseled his way into being President with his bucket loads of cash made me seeth with pure venom.

It seemed like the soldiers had slowed and given up.

Basma pulled me forwards, she'd turned into someone I never thought she was, gone was her shy girly self. Karima was racing into the distance, she hadn't stopped for me, she had been a coward for the first time since I'd known her. 

" I'm so sorry, " I looked at her poor arm, my nails still clawing into it. I quickly let go and she relinquished her grip.

" It's okay . . . " Silence crept between us as we ran on, feeling our way through familiar territory, not stopping because we couldn't be sure if we were still being followed.

What I'd brushed aside on the spur of the moment came back to me, Mr Hussain, the middle-aged, lonely man who'd always been kind to me, dead. He just died. For me. I felt bitter, sour and miserable. Subhanallah!  I thought thanking Allah for letting me live on. I should have felt wonderful. But I didn't, I felt downright miserable. He saved my life. I would have been that dead man on the floor if he hadn't stepped forward. He knew I'd die so he'd stepped in front, he knew the consequences. Salty tears fell down my cheeks.

" He saved my life, " I croaked as we dashed through the tunnel. I threatened to break down, I haven't ever been able to do something, to choose, I couldn't stop my parents from slipping through my fingers, just like silk. I didn't have much of a choice with the tunnels or Yasmine. It all just happened. And Mr Hussain, that happened too . . .

Basma remained silent for a long time.

" Listen Sarah, I've got to tell you," panted Basma as we hurried past the empty town square.

" What? " I whispered quietly, anxious and worried.

" He's your - " Then she stopped suddenly and shook her head, probably thinking it's best I don't know that yet another person I should know properly is dead. 

Basma hugged me. It was so sudden, so unexpected, her hood fell off and I cried into her soft hair.

Then she gently pulled away and wrenched her abaya on top of her clothes, twisting her hair into her scarf after. I followed suit, my tears less noisy as I clumsily buttoned up my abaya. Basma waited patiently for me.

" Tell me, " I finished and stared at her, her face screwed up and she grabbed my hand.

" Sarah, we have to hurry, " Basma shook her head," Come on! "

We started jogging through the murky tunnels. I could hear incoherent whispers close by.

 And there was most of my tunnel-inmates. They had formed a circle of comfort, all squashed together, chanting words of praise to Allah, and praying in their minds.

Men were standing on top of each other, digging upwards frantically for some escape. Women were distracting anxious children and whispering the news to each other. 

I saw Yaccoub looking at me, a little worried, on the sidelines of the circle. I glanced around and let out a deep breath I didn't know I was holding. Auntie Nahiza, Naffisa, Uncle Habib and little Malik were huddled together next to the melancholy walls of our prison. I smiled slightly at the sight of them, my dry lips feeling warmth again.

I stood on my toes, glancing frantically at everything I could. But I couldn't see Yasmine. My heart skipped a beat, bad feelings started screaming at me . . .

Karima appeared next to me with a very guilty face, " I'm so sorry, " she mumbled," I was so nasty, leaving you! I'm really sorry. " She looked at the ground.

Basma shook her head," You panicked love, it's all right! "

Karima smiled gratefully then turned to me," You're only fifteen though, I should have never leaved you. "

I was only half-listening to her and spared her a nod," Have any of you seen - "

I scanned the room once again with no result. Grief-stricken I tried again but I couldn't see her.

My eyes almost popped open as someone jumped into me, squeezing my rib-cage so hard I was worried it would fracture. I gasped for breath and at once knew that Auntie Nahiza had found me because only she could give the most heart-wrenching hugs.

" I was so worried! " She exclaimed," When you didn't turn up love . . . "

" Where's-Yas-" I said between gasps. 

Basma took the hint and gently, but firmly pulled Auntie Nahiza away.

" Where's Yasmine? " I asked her, hoping fervently that she was close by.

She frowned," I thought you'd know! "

Panic started settling inside me. My eyes grew wide and scared, trembling, I gasped for breath.

" She went with Nadia. "

Horrified, I stared at Auntie Nahiza desperately. 

Karima took one look at me, then Auntie Nahiza and Uncle Habib, Naffiza and Malik running to us.

Auntie Nahiza walked towards me and held my shoulders, gently but firmly," What has happened Sarah? What is wrong? Why were you listening to us and the town's meeting? Do you know what's going on? What have you done? "

All the questions blinded me, but one stood out like bold writing. What have you done? 

She was right, what had I done?

I had led them here. It was my greed and stupidity that was going to kill them all. The pressure was too much to handle, I blanched out.

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Is it really Sarah's fault? Is she just being overloaded with too much to take? Or is she a greedy idiot?