Authors: James L. Ferrell
Williams stood a
few feet away staring out at the bleak landscape through the hut's doorway. Summerhour,
who had gone down to a nearby village to try and arrange boat passage to Thebes,
was overdue returning. Williams was beginning to worry.
"You think
he's okay?" he asked Taylor.
"Who?" Her
reply was so low he barely heard it.
"Summerhour,
who else?" He realized the tactlessness of his response as soon as he made
it. "I'm sorry, Taylor. I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"It's
okay," she answered in the same low tone. "Yes, he’s all right. He
knows what he's doing." She continued to stare at the ceiling.
Williams walked
over to the cot and sat down on its edge. The old wooden frame creaked under
his added weight. He looked at her for a moment without speaking then said,
"Taylor, I can't explain how I know it, but I believe Matt’s alive. He's
one of the most resourceful people I've ever met. I learned that much about him
while we were training in the desert at Apache Point. You've got to believe the
same thing."
She took his hand
and squeezed it. "I want to, Chuck. God knows I really want to."
They were silent
for a little while. Williams chewed his lower lip, seemingly deep in thought. Finally,
he let out a long breath and said, "I didn't intend to say anything about
this, but maybe I should."
When he hesitated
for a few seconds Taylor sat up and grabbed him by the upper arm. Her fingers
dug into his flesh. "Say anything about what?" she demanded.
He stared into her
eyes without answering.
"Chuck,
whatever it is, I have to know. For God's sake, it can't be any worse than it
already is!"
“Okay,” he finally
said. He shifted toward her, his voice taking on a confidential tone. “You remember
last night after we pitched camp, when Summerhour and I went back out to scout
the terrain one last time just for a look-see?"
She nodded, barely
breathing.
"Well, we
split up so we could cover more ground. After a while I started thinking about
what I would do if I were accidentally separated from the team, kind of putting
myself in Matt’s place. Anyway, I climbed to the top of a fairly high hill and
just sat there, looking and listening. After about a half-hour I saw the glow
of a fire start up a few miles to the west. I watched it for a long time,
trying to get a ground bearing on it, then went to find Summerhour. I was
almost back here when I ran into him. When I told him about the fire he brushed
it off. Said it was probably a foraging party from one of the nomadic tribes
that live in that direction. Anyhow, the way I described it he said it was too
big to be a one-man fire. He thought it best not to say anything to you. I
didn't agree with that, but I didn't want to upset you either."
"Chuck, you should
have told me last night!" She swung her legs off the cot and sat facing
him, eyes ablaze with hope. For a few seconds she sat in deep thought, staring
at the floor. "You said to the west? You saw the fire to the west?"
He nodded when she
glanced up.
"To my
knowledge there are no nomadic tribes in that direction. There's nothing but
desert. No water or food for more than twenty miles. It must have been Matt! He's
trying to let us know he's alive by lighting a signal fire." She stood up
and started pacing the dirt floor, the fingers of her left hand pressed against
her lips.
“Maybe,” Williams
agreed. “And there’s one other thing….” He paused for a couple of seconds. “I
didn’t mention this part to Summerhour, but while I was climbing back down the
hill I thought I heard something like gunfire coming from that direction. It
was very faint, but it sounded like that."
"That proves
it!" She was barely able to contain her excitement. "We have to go
back and find him right now." She got up and started stuffing things into
her pack. "How far is it to the hill you were on? In the daylight we might
be able to see something with binoculars."
“Shouldn't we wait
for Summerhour?" Williams asked. "I mean we can't just walk off
without letting him know."
"Let me know
what?" They looked up to see Summerhour standing in the doorway. It was
early morning, but beads of sweat already stood out on his brow. He had changed
into local garb before going down to the village and he looked hot and dirty in
the loose fitting robe he wore over his L-suit. He sauntered into the hut and
fixed a stare on Taylor. "I said, let me know what?"
Taylor returned
the look, reading his face. "Why didn't you tell me about the fire?" Her
voice was cool and level.
His eyes flicked
to Williams then back to Taylor. "I didn't see any point in it. I knew it
would only upset you. Besides, Leahy would never light a signal fire for fear
of attracting unwanted company. He's too smart for that. If he's alive and
stays with the plan, he'll eventually find us."
She stood her
ground. “You may be right, but I’m going back to look for him. Chuck is going
with me." Like Williams, she did not mention the gunfire.
Summerhour clamped
his teeth together and spoke in a threatening tone. "No you're not! I'm in
charge here. You'll follow my orders or go back to Apache Point. We've already
lost one member of this team and we're not going to lose another on a wild
goose chase. I won't allow you or anyone else to compromise this mission. Is
that clear?" He almost shouted it. He walked to where she was standing and
loomed over her, his body language indicating that he was prepared to do
whatever was necessary to enforce his authority.
She glared up at
him, on fire with rage. "Then I'll go back to Apache Point! But only after
I do what I have to do." Her hands were balled into white-knuckled fists.
"Listen to
me! You have absolutely no idea how important this mission is,” he fired back. “You
don't know what you're dealing with. I can't, and won't, let you jeopardize it
for the sake of one man." He pushed past her and stood with his back to
them. "There's more at stake here than you can possibly imagine," he
said in a calmer voice.
She grabbed his
arm and jerked him around. "What happened to the unwritten rule about team
effort and support?" she asked him. "The welfare of the team and its
individual members comes ahead of the mission, remember? That's our creed. We
take care of each other first. Or is there something I don't know about this
particular mission?" Her eyes narrowed.
He pulled away
from her and clamped his teeth together so tightly that the muscles in his jaw
began to quiver.
Williams saw that
the situation was about to explode and moved to stand between them. He stood
facing Taylor, his hands on her shoulders. "You know I'm with you,” he
said. “I'll support you, no matter what you decide to do. But fighting among
ourselves isn't going to help anything. Maybe Summerhour is right. I spent
enough time with Matt to know how smart he is. If he's alive he'll do whatever
needs doing to find us
.....
especially you. But right
now I think the smart money is to go on as we planned. Our chances of finding
him by wandering around in the desert are almost
nil
. He
knows where we’re going, so we stand a much better chance if we let him find us.
Besides, the fire may not have meant anything."
"But you said
.....
"
He squeezed her
shoulders gently to stop her from saying more. "Never mind what I said. Will
you trust me?"
A long moment
passed while she looked into his eyes. At last her body relaxed and she sighed.
"Right now it looks like I have no choice." She stepped away from him
and confronted Summerhour. "I'll follow your orders for now,” she said in
a cool voice, “but if you're holding anything back, or if you're wrong, it will
be the last one you’ll give me."
"Fair
enough," he agreed. "And I promise you this: If Matt somehow survived
the storm and follows our plan I believe he'll be taken care of."
A suspicious
expression came over her face. "He'll be taken care of? What's that
supposed to mean?"
He put his hands
on his hips and looked her in the eyes. “For the moment you’ll just have to
take it like it stands. I’ll explain later. Everything you want to know. But
right now the two of you put on some local clothes and let's get going. I've
arranged for a boat to take us to Thebes."
Taylor studied the
Nile as they walked the short distance to the village. On the near bank, palm
trees lined the edge of the water in scattered profusion. They created a modest
degree of shade for the villagers, and a number of them sat in their shadows. Beyond
the trees, a marshy area dense with bulrushes extended a few yards into the
water. At this particular place the river was over a half-mile wide. The far
bank appeared to be green with reeds, but boasted no trees. A few mud buildings
dotted that distant shore, baking in the morning sun. She could make out a
number of small fishing boats anchored a little way out in the water with
fishermen casting their nets.
As they made their
way through the village she studied the people they passed. For the most part
they were barefoot and scantily clad. Men and women alike wore loincloths, but
most of the children playing in the doorways and scampering through the streets
were naked. Their skins, naturally dark, were burned to a rich brown by the
constant bombardment of the sun. Some of the adults wore thin leather skullcaps
to protect their heads from the heat. Because this time period was unspoiled by
modern conveniences such as paper, plastic, and aluminum cans, the narrow streets
were relatively clean and uncluttered. The villagers appeared friendly, and
most of them nodded or smiled as the strangers walked by.
Several of the men
they passed stared at Taylor in open admiration. Two women grinding grain on
flat stones outside one of the huts looked up as they went by. One of them
pointed to Taylor in amazement and began an excited conversation with her
companion. Taylor smiled at them, placed her right hand over her heart, and
spoke to them in Egyptian.
Williams, who had
not been fully trained in the language, turned and glanced back at the women. He
picked up his pace a little and came up beside Taylor. "What was that all
about?" he asked.
"My
eyes," she replied. "They were commenting on the color of my eyes. I
have some brown contacts, but they don't work well here because of blowing
sand. I usually wear them when I'm around a lot of people. It avoids questions
and curiosity. I just forgot to put them in this time."
Williams glanced
sideways and studied her eyes for a second. They were the brightest emerald
green he had ever seen in a human, almost the color of some exotic cat's eyes. He
had admired her beauty many times since meeting her, but her eyes were her most
striking feature.
"What did you
say to them?" he asked.
A flush came to
her cheeks. "They wondered if I was a goddess in human form. I thanked
them for the compliment, and assured them that I was not."
"Matter of
opinion," he joked. She had been glum ever since Leahy's disappearance,
and his attempt at resurrecting her usual humor failed to elicit any response.
They turned
between two small houses and continued on. A little further along was the
village dock, or what passed for one. It was really nothing more than a few
boards supported by wooden posts driven into the mud along the bank. A small
boat was tied to the dock, and two men were working nearby. They were naked
except for the traditional loincloths. The hems of the garments were pulled up
between their legs and tucked in at the waist. They stopped their activity and
stood waiting as the strangers approached. One of them stepped forward and
spoke briefly with Summerhour. The other one made a sweeping motion with his
arm in the direction of the river and pointed to the sun.
"Let's get
aboard," Summerhour directed. "They're anxious to reach Thebes before
nightfall. It appears there's some kind activity going on there that they’re
interested in."
"What kind of
activity?" Taylor asked, perking up a little.
"The
pharaoh's banishing a powerful enemy, or something along that order.
Broke
into the temple and tried to steal some kind of religious article. It
apparently stirred up a good deal of excitement among the locals."
"Oh." She
sounded disappointed.
As they reached
the boat Summerhour said, "You two stow your gear in the center and sit
forward. I'll take the stern."
When the
passengers were aboard, one of the men climbed in and manned the sweep while
his companion untied the boat and pushed off into the current. Williams ducked
as the second man jumped aboard, swung the boom around, and raised the sail. The
combination of wind and current gave the little craft surprising speed. Water
gushed away in small waves from each side of her bow as she headed toward the
center of the river.
Thebes was several
hours away even for this fast little craft, so Taylor settled back against the
packs and fishing nets piled behind her. She tried to relax but her mind was
preoccupied with thoughts of Matt. For a moment she had dared to hope that the
excitement in Thebes might have something to do with him, but she knew it was
impossible that he could have reached the city ahead of them. The information
Williams had imparted to her earlier had been like a breath of new life.
The belief that Matt was alive and looking for her was now firmly
established in her mind, and she visualized him making his way through the
desert alone, possibly injured, but eventually reaching the Nile.
It
would then be a simple matter for him to acquire a boat and continue on to
Thebes. When the three of them reached the city she would demand that
Summerhour wait as long as necessary for him to catch up. If he refused, she
would take action. She had not fully formulated just what that action would be,
but in Thebes powerful resources were available to her that not even Summerhour
knew about. She had not bothered to mention it to her companions, but she was
quite familiar with this period of Egyptian history.