Three Wrong Turns in the Desert

by Neil S. Plakcy

  His lack of sleep the night before, combined with the oppressive heat, made him drowsy. He crawled under Ifoudan’s goatskin tent, stripped to his boxers, and fell asleep on the mat.

  He didn’t know how long he dozed. He thought he was still dreaming when he felt Liam’s body behind him. Aidan struggled to stay in the dream. Liam wrapped his arm around Aidan, and kissed the back of his neck. Aidan didn’t want to turn to face him, because he was afraid he would wake, to find himself alone again in the middle of the desert.

  Then Liam whispered, “I’m glad to see you,” against the back of Aidan’s neck.

  From the pressure of Liam’s hard-on against his ass, Aidan didn’t need words to tell him that. He couldn’t resist any more; he turned to face Liam and opened his eyes.

  Liam was there, wearing only his white jockstrap, the head of his dick peeking above the waistband. “Man, I’m glad to see you, too,” Aidan said, leaning across to kiss Liam. Then he pulled back. “Where the hell did you go?”

  “Once I knew we were going into the desert, I realized we would need some stuff,” he said. “I took the motorcycle back to Tataouine to buy them, and it was too dangerous to come back at night, so I couldn’t leave until this morning. By the time I got to Remada you had already left.”

  “You came out here on the motorcycle?”

  He shook his head. “Ifoudan left a camel for me. I’ve been riding all morning to catch up with you.”

  Aidan scooted close and rested his head on Liam’s chest. Liam wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I was so worried about you,” Aidan said.

  Liam leaned down and kissed the top of Aidan’s head. “Sorry, sweetheart. It couldn’t be helped.”

  Aidan looked up. “You called me sweetheart.” It was the first endearment he’d heard from Liam.

  Liam looked as surprised as Aidan. “You don’t like it?”

  “I like it.” Aidan leaned forward to Liam’s bare chest and took Liam’s left nipple in his mouth.

  “And I like that,” Liam groaned, arching his back.

  Aidan felt his dick stiffening, knew the same thing was happening to Liam. “Can we?” he whispered.

  “We have to be quiet,” Liam said. He reached under the waistband of Aidan’s boxers and took his erection in his hand. Aidan shivered at the feel of that rough hand against his tender dick. He pushed aside the pouch of Liam’s jockstrap and wrapped his hand around Liam’s dick. They kissed, each of them stroking the other.

  Aidan kept repeating that endearment in his head. Sweetheart. Liam had called him sweetheart. That simple word excited him even more than Liam’s body next to his, Liam’s hand on his dick. It was as if a big, gaping hole had opened in his chest, emotion pouring out like lava.

  The sleeping mat was just barely wide enough for the two of them, the sand hard beneath it. Liam lifted one leg over Aidan’s so that they could nestle even closer together. Aidan couldn’t look down to see his dick, or his hand on Liam’s dick. He just felt his dick bubble over with precome, felt Liam’s doing the same, both their shafts slick, friction exciting both of them.

  Kissing Liam while getting jerked felt awesome. Liam’s lips, chapped from the long trip in the sun, warmed Aidan’s. Aidan wanted to open his mouth and swallow Liam whole. Electricity surged through his body and he worried that he’d set off sparks in the dry desert air.

  He bit his lip to keep from making noise as a monster orgasm wracked his body and come spurted out of him, into Liam’s hand. Only a moment later, Liam came, too.

  “Big mess,” Liam said, but he was laughing. He grabbed a ragged piece of cloth, poured a little water on it from a bottle, and they cleaned up. Liam adjusted his jockstrap, then pulled his shorts on. Aidan was sad to see any bit of that beautiful body covered up.

  Liam turned to Aidan’s bag. “You have a guidebook with a map, don’t you?”

  Aidan sat up, stuffed his dick back into his boxers, and pulled the bag to him. “I’ll get it.” He fished around inside, finding it buried under a couple of dirty T-shirts. He should have asked the old man at the hammam to have his wife do a full load for him.

  He handed the map to Liam. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “Rough idea. Ifoudan wants to avoid the border crossing at Dehiba; he knows a place we can get through between there and Bir Zar. Then we’re heading to an oasis along the Shurshut river to connect with Ibrahim’s tribe.”

  “So we’ll be in Libya,” Aidan said, looking over his shoulder and following the progress of his finger.

  “Sounds like it.”

  “And where do we go after we hook up with Ibrahim?” Aidan asked, sitting back. “When we’re at this oasis in the Libyan desert?”

  Liam shrugged. “Ibrahim’s people will have to go somewhere to access the bank account numbers,” he said. “We’ll stick with them until we can find a way to get back to Tunis.”

  “But what if they’re going back in to Libya?”

  “Logically speaking, they can’t. They’ve got to get into either Tunisia or Algeria in order to make use of the money.”

  Aidan wasn’t sure that a Tuareg tribe would act in a way that Liam considered logical, but he held his tongue. It sounded like as good a plan as they were going to have.

  “We have another problem,” Aidan said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Remember the pharmacist’s assistant? And the girl he was with at the ksar?”

  “How could I forget them?”

  “They’re here. On the caravan.”

  “What? Are you sure?”

  Aidan nodded. “I was already up on Ruby when they showed up. I didn’t know what to do, so I tried to avoid looking at them.”

  “Ruby?”

  “My camel. Ifoudan calls her Ruby.”

  Liam laughed. “Every year, a camel gets a new name, based on how old it is. Your camel’s name is actually rubii, which means she’s six years old.”

  The way he pronounced it, it sounded a lot less like a sparkly gem—but Aidan preferred his way. “The camel’s name is not the problem,” he said. “The pharmacist’s assistant and his girlfriend are.”

  “I’ll talk to Ifoudan,” Liam said. Aidan went back to sleep on the mat, and later Liam joined him, snuggled against him. When he woke again, the sun had fallen low on the horizon and Liam was in front of the tent talking in Arabic to Ifoudan.

  Aidan stretched, dressed, and found a palm tree to pee behind. As he walked back to Ifoudan’s tent, he surveyed the other travelers. Most were men, several of them responsible for a long line of camels loaded up with goods. The pharmacist’s assistant and his girlfriend seemed to be traveling with an older couple, and they worked with them, helping clean up the campsite and load the camels.

  Aidan caught the young man looking at him, and looked away. Who were they? Had they killed Charles Carlucci? All Aidan remembered was a man on a motorcycle. Could it have been the pharmacist’s assistant? If he was Carlucci’s killer, that must mean he was after the password and number to the million-dollar Swiss bank account. Which Aidan was carrying.

  Aidan was still worrying about the young couple as he leap-frogged over Ruby’s back and took his place in the caravan line. When he looked over at Liam, on his own camel next to him, the bodyguard was smiling. “You continue to surprise me,” Liam said. “How’d an English teacher from Philadelphia learn to mount a camel so smoothly?”

  “Natural grace,” Aidan said. “What can I say, I do physical things well.” He smiled at the bodyguard and winked.

  Liam laughed out loud. “You do indeed,” he said.

  Ifoudan no longer needed to lead Ruby; Aidan had gotten comfortable enough that he could manage her on his own. Instead, Ifoudan took his place at the head of the caravan, and at a barked command in Arabic, the camel train began to move.

  Liam kept his camel next to Aidan’s, apart from the rest of the caravan, so they could talk. “Any ideas on who the pharmacist’s assistant really is?” Aidan asked.


  “Not a one,” Liam said.

  “I’ve been thinking about it,” Aidan said. “I think they must be the ones who killed Carlucci. Remember? It was a young guy on a motorcycle.”

  “There are a lot of young guys on motorcycles in Tunis,” Liam said.

  “But this is the only one who’s been following us. They must know what Carlucci was carrying, and know that we have it.”

  “But if they know that, why didn’t they take it from Carlucci? Remember, that guy on the motorcycle sped away.”

  “I don’t know,” Aidan admitted. “Maybe they weren’t trying to steal the money—they were just trying to keep the Tuaregs from getting it.”

  “Then why haven’t they tried to kill us?”

  “They did, at the souk.”

  Liam shook his head. “If they’d wanted to kill us, we’d be dead. Or at least, you’d be dead. If one of them had pulled a gun, or a knife, I might have gotten away—or I might not have.”

  “So what did they want?”

  “I wish I knew. Maybe they learned about the money after Carlucci was dead—and killing him without securing the money first was a screw up.”

  Night was falling, but the caravan continued to move forward. “They came after us at the souk,” Aidan said. “That means they knew Ibrahim was connected to the gold merchant. And the pharmacist.”

  “You think maybe they want Ibrahim?” Liam asked.

  “Maybe they think they need him to access the money.”

  “And they’ve been following us so that we’ll lead them to him,” Liam said.

  “Which we’re about to do.”

  They rode along in silence. As the sun sank and the sky darkened, stars became visible. Aidan couldn’t see Ifoudan any more, just the outline of the camel in front of him, and Liam next to him. It was creepy, out there in the darkness, knowing that the pharmacist’s assistant and his girlfriend were back there somewhere in the caravan, waiting for their chance. To do what? Kill them?

  Aidan realized, with a shudder, that it might come down to killing them before they could kill. Fortunately, he was riding alongside a trained soldier.

  “Liam?”

  “Yes, Aidan?”

  Aidan lowered his voice. “Have you ever killed anyone?” As he waited for a response, he listened to the sounds the caravan made as it moved—the clanking of merchandise, the occasional snort from a camel.

  “Four times,” Liam said softly. “Every time you do, it takes something out of you. I’m not sure how much I have left to give up. I won’t do it again unless I absolutely have to.”

  “I hope it doesn’t come to that,” Aidan said, but he had a feeling it might.

  30 – Through the Night

  Aidan had piled some of his dirty t-shirts under his butt, so he was moderately comfortable as the caravan crawled through the desert night. “I’m going up alongside Ifoudan,” Liam said late in the evening.

  “What if I get separated from the caravan in the dark?” Aidan asked. He hated how needy he sounded, but the desert was creepy, with only the starlight above. “What about the pharmacist’s assistant and his girlfriend?”

  “Camels are pack animals,” Liam said. “Ruby is going to follow the camel in front of her, no matter what. And as for our entourage, I don’t think they’ll try anything while we’re moving.”

  “That’s comforting.”

  Liam rubbed the side of Aidan’s leg. “You’ll be fine. I have faith in you.”

  Then he was gone, and Aidan was alone with his thoughts. What in the world was he doing, out there in the middle of the desert, traveling with a man he barely knew, pursued by unknown villains? What had he gotten himself in the middle of?

  Though he didn’t want them to, his thoughts strayed back to his old life in Philadelphia. Not for the first time, he wondered if Blake had slept with anyone else during the time they had lived together. Aidan believed that Blake wasn’t a very sexual being, that he didn’t need intimacy the way Aidan did.

  Aidan always kissed Blake; Blake never kissed him. Blake didn’t like mouth-to-mouth contact very much, so Aidan usually bussed his cheek, or sometimes his forehead. Aidan needed that personal contact, even if Blake didn’t.

  But what if he’d been getting that contact from someone else, and replaced Aidan as soon as he’d left town? Suppose there was someone new sleeping in those 600-thread count sheets Aidan had bought during a vacation in France, brewing Blake’s coffee in the espresso machine Aidan had custom-ordered from Italy. Inhaling the scent of Blake’s lime aftershave. What if Blake kissed him? Used the same little phrases with him that he’d used with Aidan?

  Looking up at the stars, Aidan realized it didn’t matter. Blake had been a jerk; he’d used Aidan and then dumped him. Aidan didn’t want to go back to him. If he and Liam made it back to Tunis, and it was clear whatever they shared had come to an end, he’d go back to Philadelphia, but not to Blake.

  An uproar broke out at the front of the caravan. Men were shouting in Arabic, and camel hooves were thudding against the sand. The camel in front of Ruby took off at a gallop, and Ruby followed. Aidan clutched the saddle and bent forward, the camel behind them hot on their heels.

  The desert air, still hot long after sunset, rushed past him. Aidan was disoriented by the way Ruby’s head and neck seemed to disappear from in front of him, by the rough bucking. He gripped the camel’s flanks with his legs and grabbed handfuls of neck fur.

  The rush was over suddenly, like a carnival ride that stops without warning. Ruby nosed her way to a trough of water, making a place between two other camels. Aidan was just catching his breath when Liam appeared, whacking Ruby on her flanks. She lifted her head from the trough, water dripping from her jowls, and glared at him, making a loud cry that demonstrated her displeasure.

  But she went to her knees, and Aidan jumped off. “What happened?” he asked Liam, his legs grateful for the solid desert below them. His hands were shaking and he was having trouble catching his breath.

  As soon as Aidan was off her back, Ruby stood up again and returned to drinking. “When a thirsty camel smells water, it rushes for it,” Liam said. “The lead camel smelled the water and took off, and the rest of them followed.”

  Aidan took a couple of deep breaths, and stuck his shaking hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Look at her drink,” he said. Ruby had her head down to the trough and she was gulping like it was the last water she’d ever get.

  In the background, Aidan heard several of the men singing. “They sing because they think it helps the camels drink,” Liam said. He took Aidan’s arm and led them away from the drinking camels and the rest of the caravan.

  “Did you learn anything up there with Ifoudan?” Aidan asked.

  “When we stop in the morning, I want to take a closer look at the cargo,” Liam said. “We’re supposed to be taking material out to a school and hospital, but Ifoudan says there are weapons in some of the packs.”

  “Did he have any idea who our entourage is?”

  Liam shook his head. “They just showed up in Remada, and bought a camel. He’s going to nose around the old couple they’re traveling with.”

  While they waited, Aidan asked how troughs of water showed up in the middle of the desert, and learned that the ancient Romans had set up these watering stations to capture rain. “The camels need water every couple of days in the summer,” Liam said. “If they start to dehydrate, their humps waste away, their eyes fill with tears, they start to moan, and they lose their appetite.”

  “That’s sad,” Aidan said, imagining Ruby crying.

  “Well, that’s why the Tuareg take good care of them.”

  Aidan’s butt ached and his thighs were sore, but when the camels finished drinking he jumped back on Ruby, laughing to himself as he imagined Blake staring at the maneuver with his mouth open.

  Liam rode at different places, sometimes with Aidan, sometimes with Ifoudan, sometimes with others. They kept moving until a few hours after sun
rise, then stopped at what appeared to Aidan to be a random spot in the desert, pitched the tents, and rested the camels.

  Aidan couldn’t imagine how Liam still had the energy to snoop around, after riding all night, but he did. Aidan lay down on the sleeping mat in Ifoudan’s tent, massaged his sore thighs, then fell asleep.

  He woke some time later, still alone, to a sharp smell, acrid sweat mixed with spicy harissa. He looked up and saw Liam’s shadow outside the tent. Aidan thought, I can move as quietly as he can. He crept to the front of the tent.

  He was stunned to discover, after he jumped out, that he had landed, not on Liam, but on the pharmacist’s assistant. Aidan got a good look at his face, and then he wriggled out of Aidan’s grasp and ran away.

  The experience reminded Aidan of a mouse he’d discovered in the kitchen of Blake’s townhouse. Surprise, fear, then anger raced across his brain. The bitter smell of the man’s sweat lingered in the air as the sound of his racing footsteps faded.

  Aidan looked around. The little encampment was quiet; everyone was dozing through the heat of the day. Everyone, that is, except the pharmacist’s assistant, and Liam, who was out somewhere doing something.

  He went back into the tent and sat on the sleeping mat. The pharmacist’s assistant could have killed him while he slept—but he hadn’t. Aidan felt sure the man hadn’t been inside the tent, but he checked the hidden compartment in his backpack just to make sure. Carlucci’s passport, with the account number and password in its minuscule script, was still there.

  He lay back down on the mat. Worry and fear swirled through his brain, but his exhaustion and the heat overtook him, and he dozed until Liam woke him a few hours later. “What time is it?” he asked, yawning.