Page 51 of Runner 13
I exchange a look with Mariam. ‘What was that?’
‘He says we must continue to run if he is kicked out. That he wants someone with honour to win.’
I suck in my bottom lip. I’m both touched that he included me in that sentence and horrified that it’s come to that. ‘This is all too much. First Pete’s weird tox report, then Jason and Nabil, now Farouk might be disqualified … what is going on?’
‘I am not sure. But we should keep our gear close in case anyone is tampering with the race.’
I clutch my bag to my chest. It’s a terrifying thought but Mariam is right.
‘Let’s get some rest,’ she continues. ‘Tomorrow we have to climb the jebel. If we are not prepared for it, it could be a killer.’ Mariam walks off, not realizing how unsettling I find her words.
In twenty-four hours the fabric of the race has completely changed. If Farouk really is out, then the race will have a new leader. Rupert is now in pole position. He’s standing in the awning of his tent, watching the action but not participating – not protesting. His eyes catch mine and I’m shocked by the intensity of his glare.
‘It should have been you,’ he mouths at me.
20
Stella
Once the sun sets in the bivouac, the atmosphere shifts. Most of the runners pass out in their tents not long after dark, the effort of the day catching up with them. The other photographers, the medics, the volunteers – they’re all exhausted too.
But I feel wired. I take a seat on a log outside, sipping lukewarm coffee I made over a tiny stove, waiting until I’m certain Dale is asleep. I need his drone. I want to see for myself what happened out in the dunes.
Another race, another death. Somehow I’d known this was going to happen, and yet I hadn’t spoken up. No more. I’d gone straight to Boone’s trailer straight after his announcement.
But Dad wasn’t there. Henry told me he’d driven off to the city to meet Nabil’s family. At least that was a decent thing to do – so decent it made me doubt whether he had actually done it.
I peer inside the darkness of our tent, listening to the steady breathing of its occupants. Dale left his drone in the middle, so I sneak in and carefully lift it out. I choose a spot behind a bush, where the artificial brightness of the remote viewing screen won’t be so noticeable, then rewind back to when it starts hovering over Nabil. I don’t know what I expect a heart attack to look like. But to me it seemslike Nabil is suffering long before he collapses. Wouldn’t it be instant? Or had his heart been slowly failing him from long before he entered the dunes?
Then the drone hovers a little while longer, as we rush to reach him. I see myself pressing his emergency beacon. Then the video goes dark.
I remember the moments after that. The agonizing wait for the doctors to arrive. Ali’s panic. Dale stock-still, unable to tear his eyes away. The sour taste on my tongue. Trouble catching my breath.
The dark-haired doctor Emilio was next on the scene. After that, things happened quickly. He’d administered first aid, then bundled him in the car to Ouarzazate. We’d returned to our vehicle and driven back to the bivouac in silence.
The video is just as upsetting to watch as it was to witness. Like a reflex, I reach into my pocket for my phone before remembering it’s gone. Fuck. I want to call Pete. Ask him to go to the hospital in Ouarzazate and see if he can find out what exactly happened to Nabil.
Maybe the doctor will speak to me. Something doesn’t feel right, and I need to know if my instincts are correct.
The medical tent is manned through the night in case of emergencies, so there’s a chance he’s still awake. I tuck the drone back into Dale’s backpack before crossing the bivouac.
As I enter, a young woman is packing something away in plastic boxes, ready to be moved in the morning.
‘Excuse me,’ I ask her. ‘Is Dr Emilio still here?’
She jumps, spilling one of the boxes. Rolls of tape, a few needles and small bottles of iodine tumble out on to the rough rattan flooring.
‘Oh shit!’ I say, bending down. ‘Let me help with that.’
She shakes her head, glancing behind her. ‘My fault. I wasn’t expecting anyone.’
‘Rough day, huh?’
‘Horrible. So many people we had to help. If tomorrow is the same, we will be in real trouble. I can’t even think about the hundred-mile day …’
‘Nightmare.’
‘Um, the doctor is with a patient. If you wait a little bit, I’m sure he’ll be out soon.’
