Without any more argument they stumbled about, the sand already stirring around them, gathering up water bottles and packs of food, and everything they could lay their hands on. As the storm struck, Hassan, the last one in, pulled the door shut behind him.
The sand battered against their flimsy windows, mended in several places with insulating tape. Small rocks must have been caught up by the wind because they could hear them banging against the metal sides of the vehicle.
‘Oh, God!’ muttered Jack.
‘The curse of Amun,’ whispered Emma, terrified, clinging to him.
Hassan in the confined space was still issuing orders. He had seized his jacket and was trying to cover the window with it.
‘Where’s the tape? Cover all the windows in case they give way. Quickly! Quickly!’
They struggled to
