Finding Sheba (Omar Zagouri Thriller Book 1)

by H. B. Moore

  Their small convoy of a jeep and two trucks had traveled through the desert for two days. It had taken nearly that long to recover from the adventure of arriving at the San’ā airport. Even now, Jade imagined she could still smell the rank odor of the airport bathroom—which had amounted to a hole in the cement floor. When she’d come out of the bathroom, Lucas had informed her it was called a squat-pot. It was aptly named. They’d spent the previous night at a small hostel, which was, apparently, a luxury. At least there was a toilet in the bathroom. Jade and Lucas were given a shared bunk room, with her at one end and him at the other.

  Jade felt the slow burn of the glaring sun on her arm, and she tried to move out of its reach. The windshield offered little protection, and the only way to avoid the blazing heat was if she traded places with Lucas. But that would sandwich her between the driver and Lucas. She glanced at him again with mock disdain. He’d been asleep for the past hour. How could the man sleep anywhere and at any time?

  Ismail, who was driving the jeep, noticed her stirring, and he flashed a smile at her. Jade gave him a nod and smile. It was a bit unsettling to be around all these armed men. Ismail’s weapon of choice was a jambiya knife attached to his belt. He was a large and imposing man, dressed in a long white tunic—which was becoming less white by the hour.

  When Ismail turned his attention back to the endless road, she gazed across the bleak terrain, noticing a few scraggly trees and small bushes. Not much plant or animal life in sight. The vast expanse of cloudless sky stretched overhead, and Jade had the odd feeling of claustrophobia, except in reverse. The changing colors of the sand provided the most interesting view—it ranged from almost white to dark orange. The afternoon had deepened, the sky’s blue matured. Ismail steered the truck off the road into the sand, following the other vehicles, and he whistled idly as he stopped and jumped out. Jade opened her door and climbed out to stretch her legs.

  Ahmed, a driver of one of the other trucks, walked over to their jeep. He knelt by each tire and released some air.

  “What are you doing?” she asked him.

  Ahmed grinned and sidled right up to her, standing so close that Jade smelled his sour scent. Jade took an awkward step back, leery of the advances that Lucas had warned her about.

  Ismail barked something in Arabic at Ahmed, then he motioned to the northern horizon. “High sand.”

  In the distance, the landscape changed, rising and falling as small hills converged into large dunes. With Ismail looking away, Ahmed moved closer, his grin widening, and again Jade backed away. She climbed into the truck, deciding her legs had sufficiently recovered. Ahmed sauntered over to his own truck and released the air from those tires. Jade glanced over at Lucas. He’d awakened and seen the whole interchange.

  Climbing out of the truck, Lucas told Ismail to ride with Ahmed for the next leg of the journey. Jade was grateful; she’d feel more comfortable with just Lucas.

  Through the deep sand, following an almost invisible trail, the convoy continued. Up ahead was another toll station. So far they’d passed through several, and Jade had been surprised at both the hostility and the friendliness—hostility when they arrived, friendliness when they paid.

  A group of about a dozen men stood in front of the toll building, all with machine guns.

  The truck in front of them stopped so Lucas slowed. Ismail hurried back to them.

  “We’ve passed Al ‘Abr already?” Jade asked

  “Yes. We’re at the border of Oman,” Ismail said.

  “Who are all those men?”

  “Military,” Ismail said. “Ahmed and I will speak to them, but you two keep driving and keep your rifles ready.”

  “I’ve never seen so many at this stop,” Lucas said. “Something must be going on.”

  Ismail leaned closer. “We were just radioed that there was a murder at Shisur. They suspect some excavators, and the border has been closed.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “They say it was a sacrifice.”

  A shudder passed through Jade’s heart. “A human sacrifice?”

  Ismail gave a short nod, his eyes wide. “Follow us for a few meters, then go around the checkpoint. Keep driving even if you hear gunfire.” He turned and hurried back to his own truck.

  They did as Ismail said, then Lucas veered off from the main course. It was obvious when arguing broke out between Ismail and the soldiers. Ismail raised his hands, guns pointed at him.

  Jade’s heart about stopped. Would they shoot the man? Lucas took a sharp right and turned down a slope that took them into a wadi. Their view of the checkpoint was lost. They hit a large dip; Jade’s teeth slammed together, and the supplies in the back jostled against each other.

  “What do you think is happening back there?” Jade asked, fearing the worst.

  “Nothing Ismail can’t handle. He’s traveled this desert his whole life,” Lucas said.

  Jade tried to take comfort in Lucas’s words, but her pulse was still hammering. Eventually Lucas slowed the truck. “No one’s following us.”

  The dust, multiplied by the strengthening wind, billowed into the truck. Lucas rolled his window up partway. Jade did the same.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, looking over at her.

  Jade’s heart still hammered, and she’d probably have no appetite for a while, but otherwise . . . “I’m fine.” She stole a sideways glance at him. “What about you?”

  “Nothing that can’t be forgotten tomorrow.” He placed his hand on hers.

  Jade nodded, her throat too tight to answer.

  Life had become just a little too fragile for a moment, and she wasn’t sure that now would be a good time to crumble. One minute she was fantasizing about marrying Luc, and the next they were driving away from soldiers pointing guns at an innocent man. She took several deep breaths and then asked, “Where are we headed?”

  “Beyond that ridge—the edge of the Empty Quarter.”

  Jade squinted against the distance. She could just make out the dust from the lead vehicles along the expanse of rising hills. “Those hills are the Empty Quarter? I thought it would be a flat desert.”

  “When we get into the dunes, you’ll wish it were flat.”

  Jade’s mouth formed an o as she kept her gaze forward.

  “Do you want to drive for a while?” he asked.

  They switched seats, and with minimal conversation from Lucas, she drove toward the dunes. She tried to push the border incident from her mind by thinking about normal things like her parents and school. But nothing seemed normal anymore. The things that used to matter—getting high honors in college or finding the right job—didn’t seem so important. The life of the man sitting next to her was all she cared about at this moment.

  She glanced at Lucas. He was peeling an orange. When he separated the first section, he handed it to her. She took it and popped it into her mouth. The burst of sweet flavor seemed like manna from heaven.

  With new eyes, she soaked in the beauty of the vast desert as the sun sank fast, casting its last glimmer upon the dunes ahead. It was as if time stood still. After thousands of years, the sand had preserved the quiet recollections of those who had lived and died there in generations past. A shiver traveled her spine as she realized that the very queen of Sheba may have cast her royal gaze upon these same dunes. What had she been thinking of? Whom did she love? Had her heart ever been broken?

  The dunes rushed by, some light yellow in color and others a myriad of red and orange in the wind-carved sand mountains. The truck protested at the change in terrain, and its tires fought to maintain grip on the sifting sand. But Jade felt strangely happy, despite her exhaustion and unkempt appearance. She couldn’t help smiling.

  “Want to share?” Lucas asked.

  “Uh . . . this place is really beautiful.”

  He chuckled. “You’ve become a convert. People who’ve never visited
this part of the world don’t understand. They don’t feel its intoxicating pull. All they see is the violence and poverty on their television screens.”

  She looked at him, and something pulsed between them. She tore her gaze from his mesmerizing eyes.

  “They don’t feel the openness, the freedom, and the stark beauty of a land virtually untouched, raw, and wild,” he said in an almost-reverent tone. “They don’t see the exotic traditions, the devout believers, or the honor of tradition. Those who don’t venture far from their homes are rather . . . boring, if you will.”

  She grinned. “Are you calling me boring?”

  “Not at all.” Lucas’s tone deepened, catching Jade off guard.

  She swallowed hard, trying to reason above her throbbing pulse. “When I look at this country, I see what the queen must have seen thousands of years ago. It’s truly amazing to think about it.”

  “That’s because the queen still lives.”

  “What do you mean?” Jade asked, prepared for some far-fetched theory published in an obscure archaeology magazine.

  Lucas leaned forward, propping his elbow on the dash and gazing at her. “The queen was a one-of-a-kind woman in her day. She had power, wisdom, and incredible wealth. Men feared her and adored her—it was difficult to separate the two emotions. She was beautiful beyond a poet’s description, and many scholars have been dumbfounded by her spiritual influence.”

  Jade’s face flushed. Of course, she knew all of this, but hearing it from him was somehow much different.

  “In a world where women were treated no better than slaves, she was a forerunner of combining femininity with righteous power. Her story has been told in the Bible, the Quran, and the ruins of Arabia and Africa.” He paused. “As long as her story continues to be told, she still lives.”

  Jade relaxed against the seat, not letting his penetrating gaze unsettle her any longer.

  “But I believe that the spirit of the queen is present in at least one woman I know.”

  She glanced at him and saw that he was smiling. She laughed. “Is that a compliment, Monsieur Morel?”

  He studied her before answering. “The highest one I could ever pay.”

  Her heart drummed as she turned her attention to the road.

  Lucas leaned back in his seat. “We should be nearing a channel where the earth is hardened from years of rain and runoff.”

  “Rain? Here?” She was relieved that their conversation was casual again.

  “Every so often. In the winter months, a few desert plants will even grow and bloom.”

  Jade followed the coarse road, ignoring the hungry whine of her stomach. Dampness crept along every inch of her body, and Lucas’s charming words hadn’t helped one bit. She looked at her mood ring. Orange. Daring.

  “We should be in Oman now,” Lucas said after a while.

  The sun had nearly set, illuminating the sand to a brilliant gold. To the south, Jade noticed the landscape flatten and then rise again.

  “Al Mahrah Plateau,” Lucas said by way of explanation. He straightened and adjusted the rearview mirror. “It looks like Ismail has caught up.”

  Jade whipped her head around, relief flooding through her at the sight of the familiar truck. She slowed to a stop; she had never been so happy to greet a person. She was even happy to see Ahmed.

  “You’re lucky you got out of there,” Ismail said with a huge grin as he approached their truck. “But we must hurry. Luck in the desert is short.”

  Lucas drove next, and Jade found herself relaxing now that she knew the other men were safe. Ismail and Ahmed led the way, and Lucas stayed a good distance behind so they wouldn’t be choked out by the plumes of dust. The territory they were driving through was barren. Just some scraggly brush and a few rather dry-looking trees dotted the area. “Do people live out here?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Lucas said. “The desert community comes alive at sunset, since not many people are foolish enough to travel during the day.”

  Jade stared at the passing landscape against the violet sky. She felt minuscule between the vastness of the sky and the stretch of unending desert. A form moved against the horizon, capturing her attention. Straightening in her seat, she pointed. “What’s that?”

  “Looks like a wild camel.”

  “Out here, by itself? What does it eat?” She searched for any vegetation nearby.

  “The local Bedu take care of their animals better than their own children sometimes. That camel may be wild, but one of the tribes has claim on it.” He slowed the truck as they drew closer.

  “What’s it carrying?”

  Lucas slowed even more and peered through the deepening twilight. “I can’t tell from here.” Letting the truck idle to a stop, he scooted out.

  Jade climbed out too and walked around the front of the truck to join Lucas. “Will the others know we stopped?”

  “We’ll meet in Shisur. There’s only one road.”

  The camel didn’t move as they approached. Its large lashes seemed to droop in the heat. The shape on its back came into focus.

  “It’s a man,” Jade whispered. The black body was half-clothed, hanging across the camel’s back, and the man’s arms hung limp, his head twisted to the side, face crusted with sand.

  Lucas reached the man first. With one hand, he grabbed the loose skin around the camel’s neck and with a couple of sharp commands, cajoled the animal to sit. Jade winced at the sight of the man’s blistered and swollen feet.

  “Help me take him off.” Lucas gripped the flesh beneath the man’s arms, and they gently eased him to the ground.

  Lucas knelt beside him and felt for a pulse. “He’s alive.” Mouth set in a grim line, he turned the man onto his back.

  Jade gasped at the mutilated face and arms. Even through the sand and dried blood, she saw that the markings were no random slashes.

  “He’s been sacrificed,” Lucas said.

  Hot tears pricked Jade’s eyes as she imagined the torture this man must have undergone. “The soldiers at the border—”

  “Apparently they didn’t know he survived.” Lucas’s words sent shivers along Jade’s skin. “I’ve seen sketches of these gruesome markings before. They signify the release of an evil spirit called a djinn—a protector of sacred relics of the desert. Through these carvings on human flesh, followed by the draining of the blood of life, the belief is that an ancient secret will be revealed.”

  Jade dropped to her knees next to Luc. “Such as the location of the tomb?”

  “Yes.” He met her gaze. “This man needs help desperately. We need to get him in the truck.”

  Together they lifted the damaged body, and moments later, they had the man lying across the seats of the truck.

  “Know first aid?” Lucas asked.

  “The basics.” Like how to put on a Band-Aid.

  “See if there’s a first aid kit somewhere.”

  She found the kit under the driver’s seat and handed it to Luc.

  He gave her a water bottle. “Try to get him to swallow some, but go easy.” He popped open the kit and rummaged through the contents, discovering a plastic bottle containing clear-blue liquid. “Let’s hope this astringent takes away some of the infection.”

  The nausea in Jade’s stomach intensified, and she tried not to concentrate on the man’s deformed face as she lifted his head and poured a small trickle of water against his cracked lips. The precious water was wasted as it slid along his cheek and then pooled beneath his neck onto the seat.

  “He’s not responding.”

  Lucas looked up, his hands muddied with blood as he cleaned the man’s torso. “Keep trying. We can always find more water.”

  Where? A noisy fly bullied its way into the truck, landing with morbid curiosity on the man’s carved chest. Jade swatted angrily at the insect. “How close
are we to Shisur?”

  “It’s nearly fifty kilometers to the north,” Lucas said. “He’s lucky to have survived at all, let alone traveled this distance. We have to get him to a hospital. We’ll backtrack to Thumrait, and if there’s no medical help there, we’ll continue south to Salalah. I’ll ride in the back while you drive.”

  Jade’s breath caught in her throat as her stomach muscles clenched. “Why don’t you drive?” It would be dark in an hour or so, and the desert was unfamiliar. “I’ll be fine to ride in the back.”

  Lucas studied her for a brief instant and then acquiesced. Jade climbed out her side and scaled the tailgate. As she sat among the gas cans and stacked supplies, she stared at the bloodstains on her hands. The motion of the truck pitched her forward, but she soon regained her balance and settled in for the bumpy ride, keeping one eye on the patient.

  Not ten minutes later, the truck slowed, and Lucas reached for his gun.

  Approaching them was another vehicle.

  CHAPTER

  24

  Outside of Jerusalem

  960 BC

  Nicaula awakened in the sultry tent, droplets of perspiration soaking her back and staining her silk tunic, evidence that the wet season had begun. Because of her farewell to Batal with both heart and soul, she had dreamed about the great king of Jerusalem—his gold-and-ivory throne. The six golden steps. The king’s honeyed eyes. The hundreds of concubines. His lips closing in on hers.

  This proved that she had been cleansed. The goddess and gods had granted her a new start, and she was free from Batal and her obsession. Dreaming again of the great king of Jerusalem could mean only one thing: he was her true destiny.