Yes, that too. Baahir also believed that whoever this person was, he was far beyond the human understanding of science at that time in history. After “Anubis,” Baahir didn’t recognize a single name — and there were too many of them to sort through. Each person had a subfolder with in-depth information about who they were and what they did.
So, Baahir decided to start from the other end of history. He scrolled up to two names. Khaliq Ayad and Ifza Ayad. The modern descendants all possessed pictures next to their names too. Their father had been a man named Aaftab Iyaan Ayad. Aaftab had four siblings — one girl in the bunch — that were quite a distance apart from one another age-wise.
Baahir mentally did the math. Twenty-two years.
He recited the brothers’ and lone sister’s names in order from eldest to youngest. “Aaftab, Jabbar, Haamid, Galib, and Kamaria.”
Baahir scrolled past the names and pictures, but paused, seeing something odd. He wheeled the mouse back up a bit. The one woman looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her. Based on her age, she’d be in her sixties today. Baahir clicked on Kamaria’s name, and it brought up her file. Baahir was hoping to see something about the woman he recognized. Maybe he had met her before in Egypt — at a conference perhaps?
“Who are you?” he asked himself.
Her file contained a bevy of information, but it concluded after her death. He was about to close her file but stopped. His right hand rapidly began to shake the mouse cursor all over the screen. The only tidbit of information Kamaria’s file had that intrigued him, besides her familiar face, was the dates of her birth and death.
Both are the same as Mom’s.
His face flashed back to the woman. It was grainy and in black and white. But there, forming at the corner of her mouth, was a smirk that he remembered to this day. It was one Zahra had inherited.
“Mom?”
Salem was confused. “Who?”
Baahir slumped down into his chair. Everything from her death rushed back and slapped him in the back of the head.
“Kamaria Ayad,” Baahir explained, putting it together as he went. “When she disappeared, she went to America and enrolled at NYU to study archaeology. There, she met a man whom she would later marry and have two children with. Her name became Hanan Hassan.”
“Hassan?”
Baahir nodded. “She was my mother.” He looked up at Salem. “Khaliq and I are cousins. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m still alive. He needs me for something else — I know it!”
Salem’s face darkened. He opened his mouth to say something but shut it and turned away.
“What is it?”
Salem’s shoulders fell. “You are correct in assuming that he needs you for something other than labor.”
“What do you know?”
The old man faced Baahir with sorrow in his eyes. “There has been a theory that the Ayads, being a part of Anubis’ bloodline, are immune to the sickness in some way, but until now, they’ve had no way of testing that theory since only Khaliq and Ifza are accounted for.”
“Where are their other relatives?”
“In hiding, or dead.”
Baahir’s hands went to his head. “And now they have me…”
“Yes,” Salem agreed, “and I fear that what they have planned for you will not be a pleasant experience.”
“Worse than the other man’s fate?”
Salem nodded. “Yes. Much worse. His death will come in time, though. If the theories are correct, he will not know that he is dying, or even feel it. You,” he continued, “they need your blood — all of it.”
“So, they plan on testing my blood against whatever virus they cook up. Is that what you’re telling me?” Salem nodded. “Wonderful. And when is this supposed to happen?”
“I am not sure.”
It infuriated Baahir that someone who had been here as long as Salem knew very little. But it also didn’t surprise him. Khaliq had no reason to share everything with his people, even if they were the ones doing most of the work.
“Is there a lab on-site?”
“Yes,” he glanced at the floor, “right beneath our feet.”
Chapter 52
Zahra
The next three amphorae took a little more effort to procure than the rest. Zahra had been forced to break apart a large portion of the crate in order to get to the bottom of it. The salt and sand had effectively glued the trio to the ship’s hold. But she had gotten them — and all in one piece.
Yeah, no damage done… She refused to look at the decimated crates. Most of the destruction had been her doing.
One by one, she swam an amphora over to her original entry point, spotting an excited Vincenzo through it. He held out his hands as if he was a small child looking for “uppies” from an adult. Zahra gladly handed over the relics, easing them up and into the opening. They worked together to avoid the splintered hull, and quickly removed three of the four containers. The last one was a fraction wider than the rest, and it took a little more time and thought to free it.
Vincenzo must have been pumped, because he yanked it the rest of the way through, pulling Zahra along behind it. She hadn’t expected the sudden surge and became awkwardly stuck, which jammed her in sideways. Her tank was pinned, as was her waist. Angered, she snapped her attention to Vincenzo, but the local wasn’t looking back at her. His eyes were off in the distance, out into deeper water.
Both divers froze. The blur’s rear end twitched from left to right in a perfectly timed rhythm. At first, it moved slowly, like it was out for a stroll. Then, with a sudden pump of its crescent-shaped tail, it increased its speed and directed itself at Zahra and Vincenzo.
Oh, damn, Zahra thought, feeling Vincenzo panic. He pulled on the amphora, causing Zahra’s air tank to grind against the wreck’s hull. The noise spurred the great white shark into motion, and it shot off like a cannon.
And Zahra could do nothing to stop it.
She let go of the artifact and reached for her knife but couldn’t find it. It was sheathed on her hip, on the other side of the hull. Zahra’s top half was about to be removed from her bottom half in a gruesome display of savagery, and all for nothing more than some undrinkable wine.
Zahra closed her eyes and waited to die. But she didn’t. A form propelled itself into her. She opened her eyes to find Vincenzo’s back pressed up against her chest. He was floating between her and the great white.
The animal attacked and opened its mighty jaws. Vincenzo leaned away from them and thrust the fourth amphora into the predator’s gullet, just barely retracting his hand before they were detached from his wrists. Thinking it got something tasty, the great white took off, thrashing wildly back and forth. Zahra and Vincenzo immediately went about removing her tank from her back.
Zahra took one last inhalation before spitting out her mouthpiece. Vincenzo handed one of the amphorae to her while he hefted the remaining pair. They then made the arduous journey back to the shore, buddy breathing the entire time. Zahra was saddled with the responsibility of passing Vincenzo’s mouthpiece back and forth. She’d read about divers in their same circumstances killing one another over the prospect of drowning. Not everyone possessed the ability to stay calm and focused during deadly situations like this. In retrospect, perhaps they should have surfaced.
Unfortunately, they couldn’t. They still needed to keep their theft a secret.
Zahra’s head broke the surface first, and she took in half a dozen greedy lungfuls of the fresh sea air. Vincenzo spat out his mouthpiece and joined in. They sat in the shallows of Cala Minnola, safely keeping their treasured wears concealed beneath the ever-rolling surf.