“Charm the clerk, will you?” he asked Tsu, who looked down at her tattered clothes with a frown and a smile. “You’re beautiful no matter how many plane crashes you’ve been in,” he added.
As Tsu put on charmingly faltering Portugese for her new Brazilian friend, Chris browsed the store. He walked out after a few minutes and Tsu quickly followed.
“Chocolate?” he asked, pulling a bar from his pocket as they quickly walked away.
“Oh, wow. I hope you filled your pockets. I can’t think of anything I want more than chocolate. Great work.”
“Great work charming that guy.”
“I asked to see a few different phone cards. Phone card talk always gets guys hot under the collar.”
Chris already knew what was coming next.
“Forgot to give him this one back,” Tsu said, holding out the card between two fingers.
Frank had wired them money within twelve hours. They used some of it to buy tickets for the eight-hour bus journey to Manaus, and during the journey they slept like children after a birthday party. After arriving in that Amazonian city, they used the rest to spend time drinking and reading in an open-air bar beside the mighty Amazon River which led back to the jungle that had almost consumed them. After forty-eight hours, they picked up their fake passports from a locker at the airport, courtesy of Frank’s questionable use of CIA resources. Chris vowed to take his old friend out drinking when he returned home, and this time they would share a drink that actually tasted good.
Right now, though, he was bound for Africa.
26 Tea For Two
Haley couldn’t help but notice the table she was sitting at the end of was bigger than most of the boats she went fishing on. Way down the other end, sat The Butcher. He was the only other person at the table. Haley had no idea why the two of them were at opposite ends of such a large table, but she was glad about it.
“You are right-handed,” The Butcher said as Haley used a knife to cut through incredibly tender steak. Normally, she would have dived into a meal like this. But she wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, and the sight of blood oozing from a chunk of meat was not what she needed to see right now.
“Yes,” she replied politely. She had no idea why the man thought that was worth mentioning.
“I like that. And I like women who enjoy their food. I do not like waifs. I like women to be big and full and beautiful. That is why I chose you.”
Haley dared not think what he had chosen her for.
“Tell me about your first kiss,” The Butcher suddenly demanded.
There was total silence in the room. Haley placed down her fork and it clanged against the fine Bone China.
“With tongues,” The Butcher added.
Haley could feel herself blushing, but embarrassment was not the worst emotion she had felt in recent days. In fact, it was not the worst emotion she was feeling right now. It was such a creepy question coming from that man, and she felt very uncomfortable.
“I... I can’t remember,” she offered weakly.
“Everybody remembers their first kiss. I remember mine. The girl fainted with delight. That has happened to me more than once.”
Haley nodded. She wasn’t sure why.
“What do you think of smoking?”
The Butcher was veering wildly with his conversation.
“I don’t smoke, personally.”
The Butcher lit a cigar.
“You are boring me. You may leave.”
For the next three nights, Haley dined with The Butcher, despite supposedly having bored him. He asked her about every detail of her life, from her favorite season to her opinion on African politics, about which she had no clue. When she did offer an opinion, she was generally informed that it was incorrect.
Every night, when Haley was finally allowed to leave The Butcher’s side, she was greeted in her bed chamber by the maid, who had revealed her name as Lysha.
Lysha asked some of the same questions as The Butcher, about Haley’s background, her country, and her likes and dislikes. Only, with Lysha, it seemed like real conversation, as opposed to the invasive, disturbing probing that The Butcher did. Every piece of information Haley gave up to that man felt like giving away a piece of her soul. That’s why many of her answers were lies.
With Lysha, she spoke honestly. They discovered that they had things in common, despite having lived very different lives. They’d both loved reading as teenagers and used battery powered torches to read deep into the night when their parents had told them it was “lights out.”
Despite telling herself it was a bad idea, she began to feel close to Lysha. One night, the maid asked Haley if she had any children.
“No,” Haley informed her. “I hope to have children one day, but I haven’t yet met the right man.”
Naturally, she then asked Lysha the same question.
“Yes, I have seven children.”
“Wow,” Haley replied. Her respect for the woman had just increased. She wondered how she managed to support them all financially. Even though she worked in a palace, she suspected that Lysha would not be paid well.
“I used to have eight children, but sadly, one of them died.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.”.
“He was one of two boys. Most of my children are girls.”
“How did he die?”
Haley realized she maybe should not have asked the question. It just sort of came out.
“He died in a fire. Actually, it was lucky that so many of the others survived. They were all in our home at the time. My oldest son helped to get everyone out. Well, everybody except one. The boy who is still with us is my oldest child, and Dominic, who died, was the youngest. My oldest, Sammy, tried to rescue everybody, but he just didn’t have time. I was here working, I couldn’t help them.”
Lysha began to cry.
Haley put a hand on her shoulder. She began to cry too.
“Your son is a hero,'' she said. “How old is he?”
“He was only nine years old when he helped everyone escape from the house fire. He is now twelve.”
“Well, he’s an amazing young man.”
“Yes, I hope one day he can go to university and study like you.”
“I’m sure he can. What subject is he interested in?”
“I know he wants a job that will allow him to see the world. Maybe he could study the same subject as you.”
“I would love to meet him. But I know I can’t leave the palace. We must be honest, I am a prisoner here.”
The next night, Haley was once again in the soft chains of her luxurious bed. It had been a strange evening. Even stranger than usual. At dinner, The Butcher had been completely silent throughout the meal. Lysha had told Haley about the leader’s infamous moods. How he pretended to be charismatic, but was cursed by deep depression and anger not helped by his substance-abuse.
Haley, although she did not truly care what The Butcher thought of her, hoped that she had not upset him to the point where she would come to harm. However, she had to reluctantly admit to herself that she was probably going to come to harm soon anyway.
The door clicked open and Lysha walked into the room. Suddenly, a thought entered Haley‘s head. She had an urge to meet Lysha’s son. She genuinely did not know if that was because she wanted to meet the boy who had been such a hero, or for another, much more selfish reason. Although she had a huge amount of respect for the boy, and had also grown fond of Lysha, she realized that giving praise to someone for their heroism many months ago was not her priority right now. Her mind was taking over her morality, and her brain was making a plan.
Lysha sat at the edge of the big bed and made small talk about whether Haley had managed to eat enough dinner despite her nervousness in front of The Butcher, but Haley found herself speaking about something else.
“Lysha,” she said. “I would like to meet your son. I hope I could maybe even give him some advice on finding a course at a university someday. Even if it
’s just to recommend some books.”
Lysha looked delighted. In fact, Haley thought she could see tears in her eyes.
“I would love so much for you to meet him someday.”
Haley paused, then said:
“I don’t know if I have a someday in my future. I don’t think this is all going to end well for me.”
The expression on Lysha’s face somehow confirmed Haley’s fears. The maid would not have known The Butcher’s exact plans, but she would have heard whispers of what he did to those who entered the palace as enemies. Most of them never left again.
“Is there any way I could meet him soon?” Haley asked. Any way you could get me out of the palace for just a few hours?”
Lysha frowned. Haley feared she had said too much. She didn’t know this woman at all. She was not her friend. She tried to backtrack, fearing that she would be reported for trying to get out of the palace.
She opened her mouth to speak, but Lysha spoke first.
“I can’t believe you would do that.”
Haley felt shame and fear rising within her.
“I can’t believe you would risk your life, just to help my son,” Lysha continued. She put her hand and the rough skin of its palm on top of Haley’s fingers.
“I have nothing to lose, and a lot to gain. It would be my honor to help him.”
Lysha thought for a moment. Haley watched her eyes move as she clearly searched her brain for ideas.
Then, Lysha spoke in a very low voice.
“I might know a way. You have a guard at your door, and it is my job to bring him refreshments when I come to your room. I don’t give him food, but I bring him tea. I take a lot of sleeping pills, which probably doesn’t surprise you now that you have heard my sad story.”
Haley nodded, acknowledging the sadness of the personal history Lysha had told her about.
“If I crumble some of those pills into his tea, it wouldn’t do him any harm. I don’t think there will be any more guards between us and the servants’ exit. Most of the guards don’t bother to check my car anymore, I have worked here for thirty years, and when they found that I was smuggling neither people nor contraband in and out of the palace for twenty of those years, they gave up searching. You would have to lay down in the trunk.”
“I’m honored that you would take such a risk for me, too,” Haley said. “But, you said most of the guards. That means some of them do check your car?”
“A new man started quite recently. He is more keen than the others, but he is on duty less often. That is a risk we take. And there’s another risk. I can put the guard to sleep on the way out, but I don’t know how we would get you back in without being noticed.”
Haley waited before she spoke, then said:
“Do I need to come back in?”
“You mean...you want to escape? You don’t only want to get out for a few hours to help my son?”
“Of course, I want to help your son with his future. But now that we have a plan, I don’t know if I could let myself be brought back here once I was out.”
“My plan was to get you out and in again while they thought you were asleep. If you were gone for good, they would know it was me who’d helped you. It would look like the guard was given something deliberately to knock him out. But if you were still here in the morning then everyone, including himself, will just have assumed he fell asleep.”
“I have a lot of power and influence in academic circles in the United States,” Haley said insincerely, having no clue where the words were coming from. She had no power at all. “I know people who could help your son get into some of the best schools. Maybe even get him a scholarship once they hear about his heroics. The American public would even pay for that. All I would have to do is set up crowdfunding.”
“What is crowdfunding?”
“It’s where the public finds causes online that they like and contribute money to support them.”
There was a knock on the door. The two women looked at each other, then Lysha went to answer. Haley could just about see that it was the footman who had escorted her to The Butcher in the Hall of Mirrors the first time she had met him. There was a whispered conversation at the door.
Before long, Lysha came back with concern in those beautiful eyes, which had just a touch of green among the deep brown.
“What did he want?”
Lysha put her hand on Haley’s again.
“My dear, I have wonderful news,” the maid said, the tremble of a lie in her voice. She clearly thought the footman may be listening at the door. “His great majesty has requested that you spend the whole night with him tomorrow. You will leave this bedroom and join him in his.”
Both women had tears in their eyes.
“So, I guess our plan won’t be happening?” Haley whispered.
Lysha shook her head, and then thought for what seemed like minutes.
“You know, the staff in this palace talk,” she said finally, barely audible she was so quiet. Eventually, what the military says to each other gets back to the chefs and the servants. I once heard that his great majesty has an escape route out of the palace in case it is ever attacked. A tunnel that runs right from his bedroom, under the palace and out into the desert. The exit comes out beside a solitary acacia tree.”
“I hope this rumor is true,” Haley said, staring intently into her new friend’s eyes.
“I will wait for you there,” Lysha mouthed. She squeezed Haley’s hand, then left.
The next morning, at breakfast, there were four sleeping pills resting on Haley’s food tray.
27 A Million Corpses
The ferocious sun woke Ned from a dream about a tranquil boat trip on wide-open water. He felt like he had been sleeping right next to the engine of a jet as it was about to take off. He had never much liked sleeping under the stars, magnificent and untainted by artificial light though they were in this part of the world. He had never really liked sleeping outdoors even when he had a tent, and even when the temperature was pleasant. He wondered how many more days like this he would have to face.
Now, he was aching. It wasn’t the kind of awful pain that suggested something was broken, but his whole body was hurting all over like he had just played a full football game as a linebacker. Hearing his body creak and complain, he pushed himself up off the sand. He saw Abe was flat on his back fiddling with the underside of the remaining motorcycle. Ned closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Not working?” asked.
“Not working, sir.”
Ned felt fear rising in his body.
“How far to the next town?”
“Too far.”
Abrax breathed heavily as he worked fruitlessly.
“How much do you know about motorcycles?” he asked.
“I know nothing about them. What do you know?”
“I don’t know how to fix them.”
“It seemed like you could ride well. Until...the accident.”
“I can’t ride well. I was just showing off like a fool. And I sure as hell never fixed a bike.”.
“I think we should leave it. I already tried for two hours. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Ned walked over and looked at the bike. He didn’t even know where to start.
“People have walked across this desert for centuries. Millennia,” Abrax declared. “Now, it is our turn.”
The two men turned their backs on the motorcycle and began to walk towards a shimmering and distant horizon.
A full day passed without sight of anything other than sand and sky. Without a word spoken. Without a drop to drink.
Sweat was dripping from Ned like water in a warm shower. They hadn’t drunk anything for thirty-six hours. The only sign of life they noticed were the vultures circling overhead. When night came, the men simply fell to the ground and slept fitfully.
The next morning, Ned was awake before his companion. It was the first time that happened during their expedition. He wondered if the old ma
n was growing weak. He prayed he would not be left alone.
After waiting an hour going almost delirious with heat and fear, he felt he had to shake Abrax. He put a hand on his bony shoulder and shook him hard. Harder than he should’ve done. Abe did not move. Ned was on his hands and knees, desperate. He shook again.
Abrax was suddenly wide awake. He began laughing. Laughing and laughing and laughing. Ned found himself smiling, but he had no idea why. The guy seemed to be losing his mind. Maybe he had lost it already.
Without another word, they stood and walked. Ned desperately wanted to ask how far until something would happen. Anything. How far until they might see something or someone.
He waited until the end of the day to do it. He didn’t know why he hesitated, maybe he was afraid to hear the answer. Maybe he didn’t want to seem scared, but that kind of pride was ridiculous by now. The men had been reduced to nothing but slivers of humanity just trying to survive.
When they sat down in the sand and ate the last of the remaining nuts, Ned said:
“Do you know where we are? Do you know if we will find something?”
“I do not know,” Abe said quietly. “I calculated a journey by bike. I do not know how long it will take on foot.”
Ned was beginning to feel the effects of dehydration. The effects of the body beginning to turn on itself without basic sustenance. He felt dizzy and his head was throbbing. Having heard the man’s answer, he felt all of these things even more strongly.
“We have to find something soon,” he whimpered pathetically.
Abe seemed not to understand what he meant. He did not, in his culture, understand the concept of believing something must happen simply because the alternative was unfair or unwanted.
“I cannot die here,” Ned said quietly, hearing his own pathetic voice.
There was no emotion left in the old man’s face.
“People die in the desert all the time,” he replied. His tone was icy cold. Colder than the iced sodas Ned had been trying to stop imagining for the last three days.
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