The Oracle Year(90)

Hamza turned to speak to someone behind him—Miko, had to be. The two of them emerged from the alley, each holding their own duffel bag, ignoring the second Town Car idling at the curb, trying to make it to the corner without being seen.

Leigh reached out and took Will’s hand in an iron grip. Will barely noticed—he couldn’t take his eyes off his friends.

“Please,” he said out loud.

Will heard shouting. He shifted his gaze back to the crowd around the building’s front door. They had noticed the two figures trying to slip away and were running down the sidewalk toward Hamza and Miko.

“No!” Leigh said.

The traffic light turned green. Will’s Town Car pulled through the intersection and continued up the street.

Will watched, helpless, as Hamza and Miko ran. They held on to their bags for a few crucial seconds longer than they should have, and Miko fell behind. They dropped their luggage to the sidewalk and sprinted, but the crowd caught Miko. Someone shoved her to the ground from behind, and she went sprawling.

Leigh gasped.

Will saw Miko’s face bounce against the pavement. Hamza turned and ran back to help her, and in moments the mob had surrounded them both. Will heard himself repeat “no, no, no” over and over again as he watched someone’s shoe plant itself in Hamza’s midsection, someone twisting Miko’s tiny, thin arm. It was like a slide show—single frames of violence as the thicket of the mob’s individual parts shifted every few seconds to allow another glimpse.

“Stop the car!” Will shouted.

He reached over and yanked on the door handle, but the driver had locked the doors when they started to move.

Leigh wrapped both arms around Will and held him as tightly as she could. Will fought her.

“Let me go, they’re dying,” he cried.

“Will, no, there are too many of them. You can’t go back. They’ll just get you, too. We have to go.”

“No, you don’t understand. Nothing will happen to me. The Site wants me alive!”

“Sir?” the driver asked from the front seat. “Is everything all right?”

The car had slowed. Will fought free of Leigh’s arms and gave the door handle a savage yank. He spilled out to the street, sprawling on his hands and knees. He pushed himself to his feet. Now that he was out of the car, he could hear the roars of the crowd—shouts about the Oracle, and God, and the devil. Will’s mind went white with fury.

“Will!” Leigh yelled behind him, from inside the car.

Will ran back down the sidewalk, toward the group surrounding Hamza and Miko. The second Town Car was still idling on the curb. Through the windshield, Will could see the driver talking excitedly on his cell phone while watching the crowd.

With two great steps, Will leapt onto the hood of the Town Car. The driver stared at him in shock.

“Call the police!” Will yelled at the driver. “Now!”

Without waiting for an answer, Will took another step onto the car’s roof. He looked down into the crowd. He could see his friends. Miko was curled into a tight ball, and Hamza’s arms were around his wife, trying to shield her.

“Stop!” Will shouted. “I’m here!”

The men at the edge of the crowd heard him and looked. Eyes widened, and a moment later, almost as one, the rest of them turned to see him. He could hear Miko sobbing.

“You know who I am,” Will said. “What I can do. Get the fuck out of my way.”

Will jumped down from the roof of the car. He stared into the face of the first person he saw, an older man, grizzled with stubble. The man stumbled back, and Will stepped forward. And so it continued through to the center of the mob, people parting to let him through, Will staring through anyone who met his eyes until they looked away.

He bent down over Hamza and Miko. Hamza’s eyes were closed, his face bruised and swollen. Blood leaked from his nose and mouth, giving a thin, dark shine to the lower half of his face. Miko looked up, saw him. She looked better than Hamza, but only just.

“Will . . .” she managed, barely.

“Come on,” Will said. “We have to go now. Can you get up?”

“I don’t know. I’ll try. Hamza . . .”

“I’ll help him.”

He slowly helped Miko to her feet. She cradled her belly protectively with one arm, and with the other she held out an arm to help Will pull Hamza up. Hamza stirred briefly as he was lifted, but didn’t open his eyes. Will put Hamza’s arm across his shoulder and looked up, half expecting the crowd to have surrounded them again. They hadn’t. The path was clear, and the people who had, just moments ago, been screaming with exultation as they beat two people to death now just watched in eerie silence.

Will hobbled with Hamza and Miko to the street, grabbing their dropped bags on the way. The second Town Car was still at the curb. Miko opened the back door, and Will pushed Hamza into the car. Hamza had come around enough to help—he dragged himself to the other side of the car to make room for Miko.

Miko suddenly let out a cry of pain and clutched her stomach. She wobbled, almost going to her knees.

“Oh no,” she gasped. “No, please.”

“Here,” Will said.

He got Miko into the backseat as carefully as he could. Her breathing was rapid, and tears coursed down her face.