New Jerusalem by Meaney John

Author:Meaney, John [Meaney, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-08-22T14:00:00+00:00

The next day we packed Kadir's corpse and despatched the makeshift coffin, formed from equipment crates, on the back of a truck. It bounced as the truck drove off.

In the evening, with the sun low, I sat on an outcrop of rocks, thinking. Then a faint scratching sounded. I turned back a flat stone. Underneath was a black scorpion, encrusted with some disease or parasites – except that the lice-sized things were babies, a dozen newborn scorpions, carried by their mother. She scuttled away, knowing I could stamp her and her babies into oblivion.

I had liked Kadir.

But I left her undisturbed, the lone mother with her brood. Finally I returned to camp, entered my tent, checked the interior of my sleeping-bag, then zipped myself inside and went to sleep. By dawn I was awake, feeling the need to run, not having trained the day before. The ground was partway between sand and gravel, with an odd silver-blue sheen as turquoise dawn streaked the East. The clean air was easy to breathe. My rhythm was smooth.

Soon other footsteps were crunching in time like some delayed echo. I slowed, letting her draw closer. Then she was alongside, and we continued, matching speed.

"Hi."

"Hi, Fern."

"You mind—?"

"No. Let's run."

Without words, the sounds of our breathing in unison, we ran a long arcing loop into the open desert, ending back at the camp some ninety minutes later. We slowed to a walk, clothes dark with sweat, allowing our hearts to slow, our breathing to normalize.

Fern stopped to stretch, and I did likewise.

"You're fit enough," I told her.

"Thank you."

The physical entrance requirements would be no problem.

"You want to go out in the desert a little way tonight?" I asked. "Watch the stars?"

The camp had come to life. Bercholt and others were making breakfast or checking tools. Fern had a day's work ahead.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I'd like that."

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