Payback - John Hayes Series 06 (2020), стр. 36
Her eyelids slowly drooped shut, and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
She woke about an hour later, feeling a little more rested. Maadhavi was already awake.
“Did you manage to sleep some more?”
“Yes.” Maadhavi yawned. “Still tired, though.”
“It will be a long day.” Adriana sat up in the bed and swung her legs over the side. “Why don’t we have a nice breakfast and see what the town has to offer? I don’t think I can stay here the whole day. I need to keep my mind busy.”
“Yes, good idea. If I sit in the room, I’ll spend the entire day worrying.” Maadhavi rolled off the bed and stood. “Is there anything to see here?”
“Well, it’s an ancient town. The Romans were here, as was Alexander the Great, and Noah’s Ark is supposed to have ended up in the mountains near here, but I don’t know if much remains of the town. There was a terrible siege four or five years ago, and much of the town was destroyed.”
“Really? Why?”
“The people here are mainly Kurds, and there was conflict between them and the Turkish government.”
“Oh, no.”
“Yes, mankind never seems to be able to live in peace.”
“No,” Maadhavi sighed. “Well, I’ll have a shower and knock on your door in say thirty minutes?”
“Perfect.”
Adriana sat back on the bed as the door closed behind Maadhavi. She knew Maadhavi was worried, and the best thing to do was to keep her mind occupied. Adriana needed it, too. The confident and relaxed front she was showing Maadhavi was just that... a front. She too needed to keep her mind busy, or her thoughts would take her on a rapid downward spiral. She had learned this, waiting for John to come back from India. Worrying helped neither of them. She had to keep busy.
53
Mia had been awake for half an hour, listening to the sounds of the fighters stirring and chatting among themselves. She kept her eyes closed, pretending to sleep. After a while, she felt Naeem get up, and she pulled Malak closer.
The men’s voices slowly reduced, and she opened one eye, raising her head slowly to look around the room. The men had all left. Opening both eyes, she sat up. Some of the other women were awake but showed no signs of getting up. Her stomach growled as it did every morning. It had been weeks since her stomach had been full. Perhaps the men would bring back food, but she didn’t hold much hope. Most of what she had, she gave to Malak, anyway.
Mia looked over at Nour, who lay on her back, her eyes open, face expressionless, staring at the ceiling. Mia couldn’t imagine what the poor girl had gone through... what any of the women had gone through. She suppressed a shudder and slowly got to her feet as if she was going to the toilet. Stepping over the bodies, she made her way to the door and down the stairs to the first floor. Entering the room, she gagged at the overwhelming smell of stale urine and feces, pulling her hijab across her face to cover her mouth and nose. Moving away from the door and to the side, so anyone passing would not see her, she squatted, facing away from the door. She arranged her abaya for modesty as if she was going to the toilet, then reached underneath and retrieved the phone.
Powering it on, she checked the battery indicator; ten percent. She breathed a sigh of relief. It should last if she was careful. The phone searched for a signal, then vibrated in her hand—a message. Opening it, she read the words on the screen, and her heart leapt. She couldn’t believe it. She read it again—Uncle Steve. She checked the date on the message, and her stomach did a little dance. Tonight, he would be here tonight! She permitted herself to smile, an expression that almost felt unnatural. Pressing reply, she typed a message, then pressed send. Oh, she was so excited, she had forgotten to tell him where to find her. She gazed at the wall in front of her. She needed to think of somewhere. He couldn’t come to the house, it was too risky. But where?
The streets were unrecognizable from each other, just rubble-strewn paths between shells of buildings. How would he find her? Even more important, how would she and Malak get out? She would have to find a way and quickly. Looking down at the phone again, she remembered something they had passed the night they arrived—the garden opposite the stadium. That was the best landmark. She started typing again.
Her fingers froze in mid-message as she heard a scuff, and a stone kicked behind her. Keeping the phone out of sight, she turned her head and looked over her shoulder, and her heart froze. Standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, was Abu Mujahid.
54
They waited for almost thirty minutes. They could hear sounds of activity as the village awoke, but there were few signs of people, and those they saw were mainly elderly.
“Have you noticed there aren’t any young people around?” John asked as a dog approached cautiously and sniffed the air.
“Yeah.” Steve shaded his eyes against the sun, now just above the level of the buildings. “Maybe it’s too early. You know how youngsters like to sleep in.”
“Ha.” John grinned as he watched the dog cock its leg and pee on the rear wheel of a taxi.
“They’ve all left.”
John and Steve turned to look over at Mansur, who was leaning against the car.
“The baker told me. The young people have either joined the fighting or crossed the border into Turkey.” He nodded toward the buildings, “The old people, they cannot run, they cannot fight.” He shrugged. “So, they stay.” He suddenly straightened, and John followed