The Quest: A Novel Part 8

"No. I'm staying with you." She knelt beside him and put her hand on his forehead. "You're burning..."

Purcell looked at Gann and they both knew that Mercado was close to heatstroke.

Gann said to Purcell, "You'd better start off now."

Mercado pulled a plastic wrapped paper from his pocket and gave it to Vivian, saying, "The safe-conduct pa.s.s... go with Frank."

She took the pa.s.s and handed it to Purcell, but remained kneeling beside Mercado. Purcell put the pa.s.s in his pocket and said to Gann, "I won't be seeing you later. Thanks for your help."

They shook and Gann said, "Well, good luck." He added, "The commander of the Provisional government forces is a chap named Getachu. Nasty fellow. Red through and through. Likes to shoot Royalists. Doesn't think much of Westerners either. Your pa.s.s from the Provisional government should be all right, but be careful with him."

Purcell replied, "I know who he is." He said to Vivian and Mercado, "See you later."

Purcell moved toward the descending ridge, then turned and asked Gann, "Have you ever heard of a black monastery in this area?"

Colonel Gann didn't reply immediately, then said, "Yes. But not worth the side trip." He added, "Maybe after the war is over."

Purcell nodded, then started to pick his way down the rocky ridge.

Chapter 8.

Below, the gra.s.sy plateau looked inviting, and Purcell thought there could be water there. Or Gallas.

Across the plateau was the base of the rocky hills, and in those hills was the victorious army of the Provisional government. But even if he made it to an army outpost, he wasn't sure what kind of reception he'd get. Theoretically, his American pa.s.sport and press credentials and the safe-conduct pa.s.s from the Provisional Revolutionary government would ensure a good reception-which was why he and his traveling companions were trying to reach the army forces to begin with. But theory, when it b.u.t.ts up against reality, sometimes produces unexpected results. Especially if he had to deal with General Getachu, who was notoriously cruel, and probably insane; the perfect subject for a press interview-if he didn't kill the reporter.

Purcell heard something behind him, and he froze, then squeezed himself into a rock cleft. He listened and heard it again. Someone was coming down the ridge.

He waited, then saw her sliding on her b.u.t.t down a long flat rock, holding on to her camera that was hanging from her neck. She jumped off the rock and he let her get a little ahead of him, then fell in behind her as she was scrambling over another large rock.

"Change your mind?"

She made a startled sound, then turned toward him. "G.o.d... Frank... you scared the h.e.l.l-"

"Me too. Where you going?"

"To find you..." She took a deep breath, then said, "Henry gave you... he didn't give you the pa.s.s."

"Really?" Purcell took the plastic-wrapped sheet from his pocket and opened it. He smiled and said, "Looks like his bar bill from the Hilton."

She didn't reply to that but said, "I have the pa.s.s."

"Good. I'll take it."

She gave it to him.

He looked at it, put it in his pocket, and said, "Thanks. See you later."

She glanced up at the ridge.

He said, "Right. The climb up will kill you. Stay here."

"I'm coming with you."

He didn't respond to that and asked, "How's Henry?"

"A little better."

"Good. And how are you?"

"Dizzy."

He put his hand on her blistered forehead and asked her, "Tongue swollen?"

"A little..."

He took off his bush jacket and draped it over her head. "Okay. Let's go."

She followed him as he moved down the ridge.

She said to him, "Colonel Gann saw three Gallas on horseback riding through the tall gra.s.s ahead."

"News I can use."

They continued on and she said, "I wouldn't have left him... but he tricked me. Tricked you."

Purcell didn't reply.

She said, "He and Colonel Gann thought you'd have a better chance if I were along."

"You have not increased my chances."

"In case you got hurt. Or... whatever. Better to send two people on a rescue mission."

"True." Unless one of them was an attractive woman.

The ridge flattened and they stopped a hundred feet from the high gra.s.s of the plateau. Purcell said to her, "You stay here. If all goes well, I'll be back with a medic and some soldiers to collect you and get Henry. If I'm not back in, say, two hours-"

"I am not staying here."

"You will do what I tell you-"

"Frank, if something happens to you, I'm as good as dead here. And so is Henry."

"Vivian-"

"I can't get back up that hill, and I will not sit here waiting for the Gallas-or dying of f.u.c.king thirst." She moved toward him and gave him a push on the chest. "Let's go."

They continued on and entered the tall gra.s.s. Purcell said, "Keep a separation of twenty feet, and if you hear hoofbeats, drop and freeze."

They walked silently through the elephant gra.s.s, which was taller than they were. Purcell could see evidence of the battle that had been fought here during the night-naked bloated bodies lay strewn in the high gra.s.s, covered with big green flies. There was no mutilation, and Purcell guessed that it was not the Gallas but the victorious government forces that had carried off the pitiful war spoils from the slain soldiers of Prince Joshua. Fresh graves marked the spots where the government forces had buried their own dead. If he'd hoped to find a canteen of water among the carnage, that hope quickly faded.

They continued on and the nauseating stench of death hung in the hot air. Vultures circled overhead, and one swooped down and landed near a naked body, then bent its long neck and plucked out an eyeball. Vivian, who had come up behind him, let out a stifled cry of disgust.

Purcell rushed toward the vulture and it flew off. They continued on.

The tall gra.s.s was beaten down where horses had pa.s.sed through, and where men had fought and fallen. He saw craters made by impacting mortar rounds that had set the gra.s.s on fire, and in the ash he saw jagged shrapnel and burned body parts. Bra.s.s sh.e.l.l casings littered the ground.

Purcell tried to imagine what had gone on here during the night, but despite his years of war reporting he could not conjure up the images of men joined in close combat. But he could imagine how Colonel Gann had felt when he realized the battle was lost.

The plateau began to rise toward the base of the high hills and the ground became rocky and the gra.s.s began to thin as they continued up the slope.

Somewhere to the west he could hear hoofbeats, and he hoped Vivian also heard them. Ignoring his own advice to freeze and drop, he doubled back and saw her walking toward him. The hoofbeats got louder and she heard them at the same time as she saw him. They both dove to the ground in the thin gra.s.s and remained motionless, staring at each other across a patch of open s.p.a.ce.

The hoofbeats were close now, and Purcell guessed there were three or four horses, about twenty or thirty yards' distance. The hoofbeats stopped, and he could hear the rustle of gra.s.s as the riders moved slowly, looking for anything of value, and for anyone unfortunate enough to still be alive.

Purcell made eye contact with Vivian and he could see she was terrified, but she remained motionless and resisted the instinct to run.

The Gallas were so close now that he could hear them speaking. One of them laughed. A horse snorted.

After what seemed like an eternity, he heard them ride off.

He motioned for Vivian to remain still, tapped his watch, and flashed five fingers twice. She nodded.

They waited the full ten minutes, then Purcell stood and Vivian moved quickly toward him. He glanced at the rising ridge about three hundred yards away and said, "We're going to make a run for that. Ready?"

She nodded, but he could see she was close to collapse.

He took her arm and they began moving at a half run toward the rising ridge of red rock, which he could see was impa.s.sable for mounted riders.

They had to stop every few minutes and rest, and Vivian scanned the ground for water. At one rest stop she announced she saw a pool of water that turned out to be a flat rock. Purcell recognized the signs of severe dehydration, which were confusion and hallucination. Water, water everywhere. He thought of all those bloated bodies-ninety-eight percent water... but he wasn't that desperate yet.

They reached the base of the ridge and continued up the exposed slope of sun-baked rock. Vivian suddenly scrambled away from him and he caught her by the ankle, but she kicked free and continued off to her left.

Purcell followed and saw what she'd seen; a clump of what looked like spiky cactus, nestled between two flat rocks.

She grabbed at the vegetation and brought it directly to her mouth. Purcell did the same and guessed, by the soft viscous flesh of the plant, that it was some sort of aloe. He squeezed some pulp into his hand and rubbed it across his burning face, then did the same for Vivian as she continued to chew on the plant.

Within a minute or two, the aloe plants were eaten and Purcell dug out the shallow roots with his penknife and they ate those as well.

Neither of them spoke for a while, then Vivian said, "Thank G.o.d..."

Purcell retrieved his bush jacket, which she'd let fall off her head, and covered both their heads with it as they sat and looked down onto the plateau below. He treated himself to a cigarette.

A few hundred yards away, he could see four Gallas on horseback, riding slowly through the elephant gra.s.s, heads down, still looking for the living and the dead.

Vivian followed his gaze and said softly, "Ghouls."

Purcell looked across the plateau at the mountain they had descended, and where Henry and Colonel Gann were hopefully still alive. Possibly Gann was able to follow their progress through his field gla.s.ses, so Purcell waved his arms.

Vivian, too, was waving, and Purcell heard her murmur, "Hang on, Henry."

Purcell didn't want to attract the attention of the Gallas, who, if they spotted them, would start taking potshots at them-or they'd dismount and start climbing up the ridge. a.s.suming the Gallas were in better shape than he or Vivian, they would catch up with them before he and Vivian reached the army lines.

He glanced at Vivian. Her lips were cracked and her face was a mess, but her eyes looked more alert now. Her torn khakis were crusted with sweat salt, but not damp with new sweat. He guessed she had been very near heatstroke, but she should be able to finish the climb. He, himself, felt better. He'd had worse days in the Khmer Rouge prison camp, sick with dysentery and fever... Another interned reporter, a Frenchman, had saved his life, then died a few weeks later.

He asked Vivian, "How are you doing?"

She stood and moved up the ridge and Purcell followed.

They continued the climb, rock by rock. It would have been an easy climb if they'd had something in their stomachs aside from a few aloe plants. Also, their goal-the government forces-might not be a touchdown if Getachu was playing by his own rules.

Purcell stood on a flat rock, shielded his eyes with his hand, and scanned the jagged slope ahead. Less than two hundred yards up the ridgeline he spotted what looked like a revetment of stones. Then he saw a figure moving among the rocks. He said to Vivian, "I think I see an army outpost."

They continued up the ridge. As they got closer to the piled stone, Purcell could see at least five men in camouflage uniforms sitting beneath a green tarp that had been strung between tent poles. The men seemed engaged in conversation and didn't notice that anyone was approaching.

This was the critical moment, Purcell knew, the two or three seconds when the guys with the guns had to decide if you were friend or foe, or something else.

He motioned for Vivian to lie flat behind a rock, then he took his white handkerchief from his pocket and shouted one of the few Amharic phrases he knew. "Tena yastalann!" h.e.l.lo.

A shot rang out and Purcell threw himself on the ground. More shots rang out and Purcell realized the shooting was coming from behind him-the Gallas-then return fire started coming from the soldiers. He put his hand on Vivian's back and pressed hard to keep her from moving.

The exchange of gunfire lasted a few minutes, then abruptly stopped.

Purcell whispered to Vivian, "Don't move."

She nodded.

He raised his body slightly and craned his head around the rock to see if the Gallas were behind them. He didn't see any movement below and he turned his head toward the army outpost. An arm's length from his face were two dark feet in leather sandals. He looked up into the muzzle of an AK-47.

The soldier motioned with the barrel of his gun for him to stand.

Purcell got slowly to his feet. Keeping his hands up, he smiled and said to the man dressed in camouflage fatigues, "Amerikawi. Gazetanna."

Vivian was also standing now and she asked, "Capisce Italiano?"

The soldier understood the question, but shook his head. He kept his automatic rifle pointed at them, but glanced down the ridge to see if the Gallas were still coming.

Purcell motioned up the ridge and said in English, "Okay, buddy, we're here to see General Getachu."

Vivian added, "Giornalista. Gazetanna." She tapped her camera. "General Getachu."