The grenade went off just as Aishatu Ewaso reached the far side of the second garden. The wall took the main brunt of the explosion, and she did not feel the shock wave too violently. The foreign couple had not been so lucky. The woman was down, her husband bent over attempting lift her up. 

Although he had almost caught up to Aishatu, the man who she had shoved went running back to help them. 

Aishatu positioned herself against the garden wall next to an open doorway and aimed at the archway separating the two gardens. The foreign woman had been stunned and it took far too long to get her up and moving again. Her husband was still limping slightly, but they were almost to her when Aishatu saw the snub end of an assault rifle being snuck around the archway and searching for them.

She aimed for the stonework a few centimetres above the rifle hoping the shots would ricocheted backwards and hit whoever was holding the gun.

It worked -- temporarily.

But temporarily was long enough. 

Aishatu Ewaso ducked through the open doorway leading out of the garden only to find herself in a short alley. Looking left then right, she spotted the three other visitors clutching onto each other and moving as fast as they could towards the main street. The back of the woman's pale dress was spotted with irregular crimson dots. 

Following them, she turned back to check for pursuers every fifteen steps. 

She was only a few meters away from the end of the alleyway when a dark figure emerged from the garden. Without thinking, Aishatu Ewaso turned slightly and began firing as she walked backwards. 

An aimless volley or two was returned -- and suddenly she was out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk, surrounded by the normalcy of a typical Parisian street. She hardly noticed it was deserted and bizarrely silent. 

Turning left to flee, she halted after only a few paces as she saw the wall of police running full-speed towards her. 

Aishatu Ewaso dropped the assault rifle and, stepped away from it, and stretched her arms into the air. 

The police tackled her, flipping her on her stomach. They were laying handcuffs on her as the shop windows on the other side of the street exploded in a hail of gunfire and even more heavily armed police thundered past and began returning fire.   

Aishatu Ewaso closed her eyes and let herself be hauled away without protest. With the help of the ancestors, she was still alive.

She'd found and defended the road. 

And the road was all that mattered.