Everyone tensed. Bex flew through traffic, trying to leave the shells building up around us behind, but every time he gained ground, the drivers of the cars ahead shelled. The stores and houses seemed to be almost on top of each other, covering the gentle hills. Many of the buildings—especially the older ones—were made of rectangular rocks and castle-like in shape. Trees peppered the landscape, unlike the vast desert I had expected.

The sun was blindingly bright, glaring off the road and buildings. Kim squeezed my hand when we passed two statues of knights on horses, flying flags and proclaiming victory over the land. It was dizzying to think of how many how many empires had tried to own this land, and how much blood had been shed for a claim to it. We were going to be the numberless battle in that holy city. Not to own it, but survive it.

Jared looked at me. “Stay close. Never leave my side, for any reason. Keep your eyes and ears open.”

I nodded. “I love you.”

He managed a small smile and shook his head. “I love you,” he said, pulling me to him. He planted a quick kiss on my lips, and then the Humvee stopped.

“Damascus Gate less than one klick!” Claire yelled.

Jared looked to Samuel for explanation, but he was gone.

Bex turned, his face intense. “Shells coming over the hill!”

“That’s it! We’re on our own!” Jared yelled. He took the safety off his pistol, and grabbed a fistful of my vest.

Claire and Ryan left the Humvee first, and Jared and I followed. The bullets were already flying, landing in the sand at my feet. We hunkered down in a small alley just inside a stone corridor until Kim and Bex joined us, and then Jared silently ordered us to move.

Claire pointed further inside the corridor. “Damascus Gate. Markets and pedestrians. No good.”

Jared nodded once, and then we moved out. Claire took to the street with cover fire, running at full speed to the next alley. People walking in the street would run, and then suddenly stop to follow. Jared pulled me across the street, and a large man with military fatigues ran at us. Claire put a bullet in his head in less than a second. Jared didn’t bother to slow down. We jumped over the corpse and caught up.

Duck and cover seemed to be the plan of action for the next two streets. The Old City was a series of narrow rock roads and corridors lined with trinkets and rugs for sale. We reached the end of one road to find ourselves at the beginning of a marketplace. Claire froze, and we stopped abruptly behind her. A hundred or so people stopped, slowly turning around. They eyes of men, women, and children were black as night and bulging from their sockets.

“Move,” Claire said, waving us back.