his life. Will stared reflectively at the
warped bullet imbedded in the keypad then tossed the device in the dirt.
He leaned over on one knee and tried to push himself onto his feet. He
wavered for a few seconds, the world spinning around him suddenly. He got back
down on his knees again to let everything settle before attempting to stand.
His head continued to throb, and he felt a large bump on the side of it, just
an inch away from his temple. There was a little blood, but nothing
life-threatening. He must have hit a rock on the tumble out of the train, which
also explained the dizziness.
Will knew he had to regain his senses, and find a way to contact his
employer. The Prophet was, no doubt, expecting his report, and knowing Lindsey,
the old man had probably called several times throughout the day.
He glanced down at his Bulgari watch to check the time. Many people
didn’t even wear watches anymore. They simply went by the time on their phones.
Will had always felt a connection to some of the more old fashioned ways, in
some regards. At present, he was thankful for that, otherwise he would have no
clue as to what time of day it was. The hands on the watch face claimed it was
a little after noon. He’d been out for a long time.
Beyond the train tracks, he noticed a car speeding along in the
distance. A road. He doubted there would be a lot
of traffic on the lonely desert highway, but someone would come along sooner or
later. His eyes searched the warm earth as he found the strength to stand up
straight. His coordination had finally returned, and the spinning had stopped.
A few feet away, he found what he was looking for. It was a rock, just the
right size to hide in his jacket. He wondered if it was the culprit responsible
for his incredible headache.
Will removed his windbreaker and reached down for the stone then
wrapped it up in the fabric. He headed for the road several hundred yards away.
His hand involuntarily clutched his chest where the bullet had struck. It was
possible he had a cracked rib, at best a bad bruise. His knee was a little
tight. He’d probably hit it on something on the way down. But he didn’t have time to think about
diagnoses. He had to catch a ride.
Which
direction, though? He considered
the problem as he slowly made his way towards the stretch of highway. If
Lindsey and his lackey Frenchman had been able to secure the clue they sought,
they would no doubt be headed back to Cairo. The Prophet’s private plane was
still there and they would need to take it to wherever they were headed next.
However, Will had failed in his mission to eliminate Wyatt and his
friends. If the IAA agent had arrived while Lindsey was still investigating the
site, everything could have gone haywire.
Will shrugged off the thought. He reminded himself that The Prophet’s
mission was doing the will of God: to cleanse the earth of the wicked. And some
former government agent turned treasure hunter couldn’t stand in the way of
that.
As he neared the highway, he saw a beat up Honda hatchback rolling his
way. The gray car was old, but it would do the job. He limped hurriedly,
covering the last fifty yards as quickly as possible. He reached the asphalt
with a few seconds to spare and stood in the middle of the lane to wave down
the driver. Will put on the most helpless expression possible, and attempted to
look desperate.
The car rolled to a stop; Will hobbled over to the driver’s side. An
older, middle-eastern man with thinning gray hair and sporadic facial hair
rolled down the window. His skin seemed to be hanging off his facial bones. He
looked up at Will, but said nothing.
“Thank you so much for stopping,” Will smiled as meekly as possible.
Even in his weakened condition, Will knew the man wouldn’t be much of a
struggle.
The driver must not have spoken English, but pointed to the
passenger’s seat: a ragged, torn upholstery with one of those beaded cushions
over top of it. Will grabbed the
warped bullet imbedded in the keypad then tossed the device in the dirt.
He leaned over on one knee and tried to push himself onto his feet. He
wavered for a few seconds, the world spinning around him suddenly. He got back
down on his knees again to let everything settle before attempting to stand.
His head continued to throb, and he felt a large bump on the side of it, just
an inch away from his temple. There was a little blood, but nothing
life-threatening. He must have hit a rock on the tumble out of the train, which
also explained the dizziness.
Will knew he had to regain his senses, and find a way to contact his
employer. The Prophet was, no doubt, expecting his report, and knowing Lindsey,
the old man had probably called several times throughout the day.
He glanced down at his Bulgari watch to check the time. Many people
didn’t even wear watches anymore. They simply went by the time on their phones.
Will had always felt a connection to some of the more old fashioned ways, in
some regards. At present, he was thankful for that, otherwise he would have no
clue as to what time of day it was. The hands on the watch face claimed it was
a little after noon. He’d been out for a long time.
Beyond the train tracks, he noticed a car speeding along in the
distance. A road. He doubted there would be a lot
of traffic on the lonely desert highway, but someone would come along sooner or
later. His eyes searched the warm earth as he found the strength to stand up
straight. His coordination had finally returned, and the spinning had stopped.
A few feet away, he found what he was looking for. It was a rock, just the
right size to hide in his jacket. He wondered if it was the culprit responsible
for his incredible headache.
Will removed his windbreaker and reached down for the stone then
wrapped it up in the fabric. He headed for the road several hundred yards away.
His hand involuntarily clutched his chest where the bullet had struck. It was
possible he had a cracked rib, at best a bad bruise. His knee was a little
tight. He’d probably hit it on something on the way down. But he didn’t have time to think about
diagnoses. He had to catch a ride.
Which
direction, though? He considered
the problem as he slowly made his way towards the stretch of highway. If
Lindsey and his lackey Frenchman had been able to secure the clue they sought,
they would no doubt be headed back to Cairo. The Prophet’s private plane was
still there and they would need to take it to wherever they were headed next.
However, Will had failed in his mission to eliminate Wyatt and his
friends. If the IAA agent had arrived while Lindsey was still investigating the
site, everything could have gone haywire.
Will shrugged off the thought. He reminded himself that The Prophet’s
mission was doing the will of God: to cleanse the earth of the wicked. And some
former government agent turned treasure hunter couldn’t stand in the way of
that.
As he neared the highway, he saw a beat up Honda hatchback rolling his
way. The gray car was old, but it would do the job. He limped hurriedly,
covering the last fifty yards as quickly as possible. He reached the asphalt
with a few seconds to spare and stood in the middle of the lane to wave down
the driver. Will put on the most helpless expression possible, and attempted to
look desperate.
The car rolled to a stop; Will hobbled over to the driver’s side. An
older, middle-eastern man with thinning gray hair and sporadic facial hair
rolled down the window. His skin seemed to be hanging off his facial bones. He
looked up at Will, but said nothing.
“Thank you so much for stopping,” Will smiled as meekly as possible.
Even in his weakened condition, Will knew the man wouldn’t be much of a
struggle.
The driver must not have spoken English, but pointed to the
passenger’s seat: a ragged, torn upholstery with one of those beaded cushions
over top of it. Will grabbed the
Similar Books
