The Sheikh's Disobedient Bride

TALLY heard the guttural shouts seconds before the gunfire. Dropping to her stomach, she hugged her camera and struggled to protect her head.

"Soussi al-Kebir," her guide screamed as he ran from her. Soussi al-Kebir? Tally pressed her forearm to her face, struggling to make sense of the words with the little Arabic she knew.

Soussi were Berbers from the south, those that lived close to the desert. And al-Kebir was big or great. But Soussi al-Kebir?

More gunfire rang in the small town square, the rat-a-tat of machine gunfire and the hard clattering of horses' hooves.

Was this an ambush? Robbery? What?

Heart racing, Tally hugged the cobblestones closer, her camera gripped tightly in the crook of her arm, certain any moment a whizzing bullet would hit her.

Not far from her a man screamed and fell. She heard him hit the ground, the heavy thud of body against stone. Moments later red liquid ran toward her, inches from her face and she recoiled, lifting her head to avoid the blood.

It was then a shadow stretched long above her, the shadow enormous, blocking the intense Barakan sun.