Page 78 of Cross Down
He shakes his head. “It’s dangerous for you two to be here, you know. You, an armed woman, and your friend, a very tall African-looking man. If you value your life, you should return to the border immediately.” He puts a hand on his chest. “I will provide safe escort.”
I say, “With all due respect, sir, we need to get there.”
“Again I ask: Why?”
I say, “There are disturbances and bloodshed in our country, and we have been told that what happened in that village is somehow connected to those events.”
Silence in the room.
Deacon asks, “Were you here when it happened?”
He looks down for a moment. “Yes. The village, it was called Mir Kas. One night, the bombs and rockets came. Most of us have experienced some form of attack or bombing from the air. A few explosions, a few buildings destroyed, some killed or wounded, and then it’s over. But not poor Mir Kas.”
He’s starting to reveal things, and Deacon does not press him, just lets him tell his story.
“For long hours, the village was bombed from one end to the other. Machine-gun fire from the air cut down everyone who tried to run. Everyone—the old, the infirm, the children. A few managed to escape, and we helped them, and then they kept running, as if they and their village were cursed.”
I say, “We’d still like to see it.”
“There’s nothing there but bones and rubble.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Deacon says. “We believe it’s connected to the terrorist attacks in our nation.”
He sighs. “I have heard that. A few who were once in power in Kabul and who still have friends and contacts in your capital say that what happened to Mir Kas was the start of something in the United States.”
“What’s the connection?” I ask.
“Oh,” he says as if he’s surprised we don’t know. “The attacks were made by those who are killing people in your country now in preparation for…I’m sorry, I can’t remember the correct word. A French word, I believe. When a government is overthrown by violent means.”
I say, “A coup?”
He clasps his hands together. “Ah, a coup. Quite right.”
Damn, damn, damn.I can feel Deacon get tense at that dangerous and heavy word.Coup.I say, “Do you have any information about who’s behind the coup? What group or country or organization?”
A sad shake of his head. “I wish I could help you, Miss Elizabeth, Mr. John. But I have no other information to give to you.”
Deacon says, “We need to get to that village. Now.”
He gets up and we do the same. “I will give you directions. It’s only an hour’s walk from here. But you will go alone. I can’t give you any of my men to escort you.”
I say, “You were ready to give us escorts to get back to the border, but not to the village. What’s the difference?”
He speaks like an old teacher lecturing an ignorant student. “The bones and broken stones of that village are haunted. No one will approach it.”
Chapter
87
According to GulHazara, once we climb this one last bit of rocky trail, we will be on the outskirts of whatever’s left of Mir Kas. There are stone-covered hills, mountains, low shrubs, and stunted trees, and the cold wind is buffeting us. We stop to catch our breath and pass a water bottle back and forth, and then, in the middle of a rocky no-man’s-land, a chime sounds in my rucksack.
“What the hell?” I say.
Deacon says, “Sounds like someone’s trying to call you, John.”
“Stop joking.”
“Who’s joking?” she says. “It sure as hell isn’t my rucksack that’s making a noise. Get it out and quiet it before half the district hears it.”
