Beck, Greig - Arcadian Genesis by Beck Greig

Author:Beck, Greig [Beck, Greig]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller
Publisher: Macmillan Publishers Australia
Published: 2012-08-31T18:30:00+00:00

Denichen Khamid lay flat under an oily canvas sheet in the back of the truck. The old Kamaz bounced over ruts and fissures in a road that was more a river of shallow mud.

Yuri, the truck’s driver, made a guttural sound in the back of his throat loud enough for it to carry through the open window – it was not one Khamid wanted to hear. It meant he had either spilled his vodka or there was trouble. A whisper from the cabin resolved the question.

‘Roadblock – Russian.’

Khamid’s stomach fluttered with fear and he tried to make himself as small as humanly possible.

The old truck whined to a halt and a barking voice ordered Yuri from the cabin. Khamid lifted one edge of the canvas just a fraction. He saw two young Russian soldiers walk Yuri around the front of the truck and then came the impatient click of fingers followed by a single word – identifikacija – they wanted his papers.

Yuri stepped back, felt in his pockets and pulled his wallet, making a show of dropping it. Khamid knew what he was doing – giving him a few extra moments. He slid out the back of the old flatbed and crabbed his way into the bushes beside the rutted road. Slipping over a small barrier of built-up branches and dirty snow, he rolled down the small embankment on the other side. He guessed he was still a few miles out from Katyr-Yurt, but as long as heavy snow didn’t start to fall, or a pack of wolves didn’t take an interest in him, or if he didn’t get hopelessly lost, he might just survive.

He hadn’t thought through a long-term plan, but knew that as long as he had the disk, the Americans would come for him. He just needed to make sure he stayed alive long enough to make contact. They will come, they will come – his repeated thought was becoming more like a prayer.

He got to his feet beside the trunk of a tree frosted with snow, and paused to get his bearings. He looked up: no stars or moon – good for hiding, but he would have liked just a few stars to guide him.

‘And now we walk,’ he whispered to himself, confident if he kept in line with the old road, he should make it to the village by morning.

Khamid stepped out from behind the tree, and only took a single step before a blow to the back of his head made him finally see the stars he had missed. Everything went black.

***

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