—We have travelled too far. It is as difficult to go back as to go forward .

—Then we continue.

About to step forward, Leo felt a tug on his hand. It was Zabi. In the darkness he couldn’t see her, able only to hear her say:

—Listen.

He could hear the storm. Then, among the noise, was a mechanical sound – jet engines. Though it was pitch-black Leo stared up at the sky in the direction of the plane, hoping the lightning would illuminate the enemy. The edges of the Khyber Pass were an obvious bombing target: the terrain was always a likely concentration of weapons and narcotic smugglers, or in their case, political refugees.

—We should run!

Leo’s cry disappeared into the storm. There was nowhere for them to run to, no cover on the plateau. The sound of the engines grew louder. Leo crouched down, covering Zabi as the plane passed directly overhead.

The noise of the jet engines peaked and then dissolved, swallowed up by the storm. There were no bombs, no explosions. It must have been a transport plane. Relieved, Leo stood up, looking at the black sky. Lightning flashed through the clouds and he caught a split-second glimpse of hundreds of black specks, a snowstorm – flakes falling towards them. The light disappeared and in the darkness Leo remained staring, waiting for another flash. When it finally came, the snowflakes were only metres above them, revealing themselves not as snow but fist-sized objects twirling through the sky, spinning towards them. Fahad called out:

—Don’t move!

The first butterfly mine landed nearby, Leo didn’t see it but he heard it, a thud on the dust, then another and another, some close, some far away. They weren’t exploding, but resting on the surface and surrounding them. Lightning flashed and Leo saw a mine swerving in the sky directly above him, on course for his head. He took a step back, pushing Zabi with him as the mine passed in front of his face, almost brushing his nose, and settled directly on the ground in between his position and Fahad’s – at the exact point where he was about to step.

In a matter of seconds the entire plateau had been rendered impassable. They couldn’t go forward. They couldn’t go back.

Same Day

They were trapped. Even by daylight their progress would be slow, having to tread a careful path around the mines, whose plastic shells would be coloured to match the orange and red hues of the terrain. Nara said:

—In the morning there’ll be enough light to find a way around them.

The lack of conviction in her voice was damning. Leo muttered:

—We’re only metres from the Soviet border patrols.

—We might have enough time.

—At sunrise this is the first place they’ll search.

Fahad called out, cutting short the discussion: