Anise looked at Mor’s stocky, muscular body. He’s grown up in the last few days, she thought. The rambunctious kid had disappeared, to be replaced by a brave young man who aroused new feelings in her, feelings she couldn’t ignore.
“Did you know that I saw you in a dream before we met?” Yam broke into her thoughts. She looked at him. The two of them – so different from one another. Each aroused different feelings in her and that confused her. Now is not the time to be thinking about this, she decided, feeling her cheeks burn.
Mor was stretching on the step beside her. No, she had no intention of choosing between them. She had to stay cool and collected. If they got out of here alive, she’d consider her feelings, but not now. She turned her back to both and pulled the sleeping bag up to her chin.
In the morning, when the boys were waking up, Anise brought leftover food to the two terrorists in the corner. She was putting the can down on the ground and straightening up when Yosef took advantage of the opportunity to kick her hard with his healthy leg. She fell back. Yam hurried to help her up, but then Nasat rose and head-butted him before he reached her. Fully synchronized, the two terrorists started to roll forward.
Then a shot reverberated between the walls, and Nasat screamed out in pain. “Bull’s eye,” Mor smiled as he looked at Nasat’s other leg. “I’m getting better. I swear – next time, I won’t be aiming for your leg,” he said coldly as he helped Anise to her feet. She again experienced the same sensation she had when she looked at him the day before. Mor was no longer the little kid she’d grown up with.
The boys tied the two captives up again and Mor cocked his rifle. “Hmm. So it seems that a Jew and an Arab can work together after all,” he said and snorted.
Mor aimed the gun at Nasat’s head. “Please, don’t,” Nasat whimpered. Anise looked at the killer, repulsed: this man, who had tried to murder her just a second ago, was now begging for his life?
“As far as I’m concerned, shoot him. We’ll wait outside until you’re done.” Anise intentionally spoke in Arabic so that Nasat would understand, and then she left the room with Yam. The rock door closed quietly behind.
Anise and Yam leaned against the wall and waited for Mor. Anise was feeling gloomy and tried not to sink into despair, but she could not avoid thinking that their chances of surviving were not good.
Yam, standing next to her, was taking an interest in the lines written thousands of years ago on the walls. “Look! I know that sentence,” he exclaimed, “my father used it.” The line appeared underneath a painting of figures fleeing a charging bull. A young woman holding a bow and arrow, depicted in the foreground, boldly stared down the bull. “Aspera per astra ad,” Yam read out loud.
“What does that mean?” Anise asked.
“To the stars through the difficulties,” Yam translated the Latin.
Anise looked at the terrified figures, fleeing for their lives, and at the young woman ready to sacrifice her own. “To the stars through the difficulties,” she repeated softly.
The rock door opened and Mor came out. He was pale and tired.
“Did he talk? Nasat – did he say anything? What’s in the briefcase?”
It took Mor a while to answer. “It’s over. We’re all going to die,” was all he managed to say.
Chapter 14
Theo had just finished getting dressed when Superintendent Azoulai entered the room. “A military vehicle will be driving you to the airport in an hour,” he said. Black circles under his eyes attested to many long, sleepless nights. Theo nodded politely. Of course, he had no intention of taking that ride. He wasn’t going anywhere without his son. Once Azoulai left the room, one source of tension was gone.
Theo collected his discharge papers and stepped into the corridor. Exiting the hospital, he was greeted by the mid-July heat. Sual and Amalia were waiting for him at the curb, accompanied by a man he didn’t know.
“This is Ido, a friend of mine from the army,” Amalia introduced the buzz-cut stranger. Theo smiled and shook his hand warmly.
“We should move before the Foreign Ministry’s car shows up,” said the Italian consul, stealing a glance at Ido. He was very tanned and a three-day beard covered his face. He led them to a black Jeep parked nearby. Ido drove them to the outskirts of Jerusalem, finally turning into a residential neighborhood. Theo looked out the window. The newly constructed suburbs all looked the same.
It’s hard to believe that, just a few days ago, the streets were full of boisterous children coming home after school, he thought. Now they were desolate, not a human in sight.
Ido parked in front of a series of identical high-rises. Entering one, they found that the elevator was out of order and started up the stairs.
Theo, still weak, broke into a sweat; every step was a physical effort. He was therefore relieved when Ido stopped and opened a door on the third floor.
“The family that lives here is gone. Actually, almost the entire neighborhood is empty. Whoever could do so escaped,” Ido explained.
“I’d love a shower,” said Sual.
Ido steered the two women to the bedroom. “You’ll find fresh clothes in the closet. I hope they fit well enough,” he said and left, closing the door behind him.
For Sual, who had over the last few days shared a room and toilet facilities with five other patients, this was heaven on earth. Making straight for the attached bathroom,
