Master of the Game by Sidney Sheldon

“It will be dawn soon,” Jamie said. “Let’s see how many more diamonds we can find.”

“We’re not going to live to spend any of this. You want to die very rich, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to die at all.”

They resumed their search, mindlessly scooping up diamond after diamond, and it was as though a madness had taken possession of them. Their piles of diamonds increased, until sixty diamonds worth a king’s ransom lay in their torn shirts.

“Do you want me to carry these?” Banda asked.

“No. We can both—” And then Jamie realized what was on Banda’s mind. The one caught in actual possession of the diamonds would die more slowly and painfully.

“I’ll take them,” Jamie said. He dumped the diamonds into the rag that was left of his shirt, and carefully tied it in a knot. The horizon was light gray now, and the east was becoming stained with the colors of the rising sun.

What next? That was the question! What was the answer? They could stand there and die, or they could move inland toward the desert and die.

“Let’s move.”

Jamie and Banda slowly began walking away from the sea, side by side.

“Where do the land mines start?”

“About a hundred yards up ahead.” In the far distance, they heard a dog bark. “I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about the land mines. The dogs are heading this way. The morning shift is coming to work.”

“How soon before they reach us?”

“Fifteen minutes. Maybe ten.”

It was almost full dawn now. What had been vague, shimmering patterns turned into small sand dunes and distant mountains. There was no place to hide.

“How many guards are on a shift?”

Banda thought for a moment. “About ten.”

“Ten guards aren’t many for a beach this big.”

“One guard is plenty. They’ve got guns and dogs. The guards aren’t blind, and we’re not invisible.”

The sound of the barking was closer now. Jamie said, “Banda, I’m sorry. I should never have gotten you into this.”

“You didn’t.”

And Jamie understood what he meant.

They could hear voices calling in the distance.

Jamie and Banda reached a small dune. “What if we buried ourselves in the sand?”

“That has been tried. The dogs would find us and rip our throats out. I want my death to be quick. I’m going to let them see me, then start running. That way they’ll shoot me. I—I don’t want the dogs to get me.”

Jamie gripped Banda’s arm. “We may die, but I’ll be damned if we’re going to run to our deaths. Let’s make them work for it.”

They could begin to distinguish words in the distance. “Keep moving, you lazy bastards,” a voice was yelling. “Follow me…stay in line…You’ve all had a good night’s sleep…Now let’s get some work done…”

In spite of his brave words, Jamie found he was retreating from the voice. He turned to look at the sea again. Was drowning an easier way to die? He watched the reefs tearing viciously at the demon waves breaking over them and he suddenly saw something else, something beyond the waves. He could not understand what it was. “Banda, look…”

Far out at sea an impenetrable gray wall was moving toward them, blown by the powerful westerly winds.

“It’s the sea mis!” Banda exclaimed. “It comes in two or three times a week.”

While they were talking, the mis moved closer, like a gigantic gray curtain sweeping across the horizon, blotting out the sky.

The voices had moved closer, too. “Den dousant! Damn this mis! Another slowdown. The bosses ain’t gonna like this…”

“We’ve got a chance!” Jamie said. He was whispering now.

“What chance?”

“The mis! They won’t be able to see us.”

“That’s no help. It’s going to lift sometime, and when it does we’re still going to be right here. If the guards can’t move through the land mines, neither can we. You try to cross this desert in the mis and you won’t go ten yards before you’re blown to pieces. You’re looking for one of your miracles.”

“You’re damned right I am,” Jamie said.

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