The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

"Thursday. Friday is the holy day in this part of the world. The weekend is Thursday and Friday. All camels are prize-winning racing camels, if hit. The bedouins drive Nissan pickup trucks to the grocery store. Rumors say that some of the nomads have become expert mechanics taking their trucks apart and putting them back together, through either boredom or curiosity. I never believed it because sand inside car parts is not a good idea."

  "So, what next?"

  John pressed on the accelerator and the wheels spun, but the car didn't move.

  "Why is the car still running? In the movies, the car always stalls and then it won't start. And then everyone gets out into the total darkness and some kind of monster comes from nowhere and savages one of the women."

  "That's the movies. Why would the car stop running? Trouble usually only happens in real life, one at a time. Let's see what it looks like." They all piled out of the car and John opened the trunk and then his suitcase and took out a flashlight.

  In the moonlight, John could see the camel, still standing on the road, staring over at them. "Life in the desert can be boring. I wonder if he does that just for fun." Walking around the car, he said, "No bodywork or tire damage. We probably hit some of those little bushes. We're just in deep sand." He went back to the car and pulled out the floor mat, then went to the other side and took the passenger's floor mat. He dug into the sand around each rear wheel with his hands and jammed the floor mat under and up against the wheel pushing more sand under the floor mat to hold it against the wheel. "Let's see if this works," he said as he and the ladies hopped back in. He put the car in gear and gently pressed the accelerator. The car jumped a bit, then slowly moved ahead and John drove back to the road, on the other side of the camel, which was still watching them. "I'll get the mats," he said. hopping out and hiking back. He put the mats in the trunk and drove off again.

  "John, you're very cool after such a close brush with death. I'm still shaking. I'm not sure I'm going to make it, if life is going to be like this."

  John knew life was going to be much harder than this. When food ran out, people would kill to get what little was left. He had a plan, but he didn't want to frighten Masako or Cho with the real truth of what lay ahead, especially now.

  "Come on Masako, this has nothing to do with the virus. I should have been driving more slowly. I wasn't paying attention. I'm not used to watching out for camels. I'm sorry."

  "I don't believe that. If you weren't paying attention, we'd all be dead."

  Masako held put her hand out in front of her and it was still shaking. John looked at her, raised his eyebrows and looked at Cho. She shrugged and shook her head.

  John reached over and held Masako's hand to quell the shaking. Cho slapped John on the back of his head and said, "Put hand on the wheel. Pay attention to road. Drive. Go slow. Watch out for camels."

  At Batta, they went around the little traffic circle and then took the second exit, driving through landscaped green gardens and past the date palms lining the hotel driveway to the entrance. The doorman opened the doors and John handed him the keys to the car, so the bellman could remove their luggage and take it to their rooms. After check-in and a quick look at the rooms, it was well into the dinner hour. Masako decided to change into something with long sleeves as it was a little cool, but Cho stayed with her traveling outfit. Neither had brought more than two changes of clothing. John was wearing his grey sports coat, the only one he had brought. The receptionist escorted them back to the main building and to their table by the pool.

  The pool itself was large, but not rectangular, It was curved on all sides and fitted with lights to show off the blue of the pool against the dark of the night. Palm trees surrounded the wide concrete apron around the pool. John's chair was only a few feet from the edge of the pool and the headwaiter cautioned him about falling in -- with a smile. The headwaiter appeared to have already been sampling the wines.

  "John, you get it, big. What going on? Spill beans. And how luggage be in back of car."

  "He planned this, but he didn't tell us." Masako seemed as perturbed as Cho and wanted answers. "The flight yesterday wasn't all booked. He just said that."

  "Actually, it was all booked. You girls just don't trust me. What have I done to engender such disrespect? I can't understand it."

  A gentleman wearing traditional Arab clothing, a snow white, starched thobe and gutra, arrived. "Why, if it isn't John Thompson. Surrounded by the flowers of the desert. Do you mind if I join you?"

  "I would be offended if you did not, my brother. This is Masako, from Tokyo and Cho from Singapore. Ladies, this is Abdul bin Raqman, the seventh son of so many seventh sons, and the breeder of the best racing camels in the entire world."

  "John, you are so kind. My part of the world is so small."

  "But, it is full of oil and oil is so valuable."

  "Alas, that is true. Allah has favored us." Abdul bin Raqman glanced at the headwaiter and four waiters descended on the table with four menus. "Anything you like. If you don't see it on the menu, just say it and it will be done."

  "Abdul's father runs this oasis and this hotel. I've been yearning for a big piece of roast beef for the longest time," said John. "I think the roast beef in China was really overcooked water buffalo."

  "What difference? All same."

  "With boiled potatoes, baked beans, crusty bread and a nice burgundy wine."

  "My friend John. You are most predictable. I have such things available, but I had hoped you might try the roast lamb. I picked it myself. It was with its mother this morning. So succulent and beautiful. Almost as beautiful as these flowers you have brought with you."

  "Thank you, but it has been forever since I have had a nice roast beef. If you don't mind."

  "Of course. And you ladies. The lamb is so nice."

  "Sure," said Masako. "I love lamb."

  "Sure, me too," Cho agreed.

  "Excellent. Waiters, three lambs and one roast beef for my friend John."

  "Abdul, how did you and John meet?" said Masako, watching the waiter pour a sample of wine.

  John swirled the wine and then gave it a short sniff followed by a short sip. After a second sip and a third, John said, "Really nice wine. Full bodied and mellow. Just a hint of tannin and a little acid. You always have the best and you never forget, Abdul."

  "You are easy to remember, John. Miss Masako, John and I met in London. Our fathers were in the same business -- influence. My father, before he retired here, worked for our oil company in Abu Dhabi. He wanted to influence the United States to trade us oil-drilling equipment for oil.

  "John's father worked for the government and he was able to provide influence for my father's company to obtain all the equipment we needed. The best available, of course. He also helped to secure the necessary export permits, and he provided consultants to help install the equipment and instruct us in its operation. As his father moved to Paris and then to Tokyo, he remained our main contact to the American oil industry. John and his father would come several times each year to check on the equipment. To make sure we weren't selling it to the Russians, I suppose."

  "Of course not, Abdul. We trusted you completely. You were important clients. My father just wanted to make sure you were happy. I, of course, was interested in seeing your most interesting country."

  Masako glanced at John who shook his head, ever so slightly.

  "Yes, I always wondered what John's father did at the Embassy."

  "And now, if you will excuse me for just a moment, I must transact a bit of business. The gentleman on the other side of the pool is interested in a prize camel. It took first place in yesterday's race. I shall return soon."

  After Abdul left, another man walked up and stood by Abdul's chair. "John, nice to see you," he said, extending a hand.

  John shook and said, "And you, Charles MacTavish of the clan MacTavish."

  "And is that the charming Cho? It has been too long, Miss Ming, but you are even more beautiful than I remember,
" he said, reaching out to take her hand.

  Instead of allowing him to take her hand, she jumped up, grabbed his hand with both hands and bent back his thumb. He tried to remain expressionless, but tears were running down his cheeks. "Charles, you fèi wù! This where you go. You owe Wu Chan much money. Thousand dollars. She ask where you go. Many times. I tell her 'no more credit for that fèi wù,' but she not listen."

  "Cho! Let him go!" John said, putting his hand on her shoulder and pushing her back into her seat. "And be quiet."

  She continued whispering in Mandarin, none of the words polite.

  "I've been right here," he said massaging his right hand with his left. "I'm sorry I had to leave in such a hurry. Sometimes it just works out that way." In an obvious attempt to change the subject, he said, "And who else have you brought, John?"

  "My friend Masako, from Tokyo."

  "Hello, Charles" she said, watching Cho and extending her hand with hesitation. Charles took her hand and lightly kissed it.

  "Hello, Masako."

  "I didn't know Charles was a Scots name."

  "It's actually Teàrlach, which was Anglicized as Charles. The original Gaelic was pronounced much like Charles."

  "Will you be able to join us?" John glanced at Masako's hand that Charles was still holding.

  "Of course, John." Charles released Masako's hand, before taking a seat. "Your telephone call was sad, but welcome. It's hard to believe that we have such problems. I caught some of your blogs. So, it's not totally unexpected, the world coming to such an end. Or at least civilization, such as it is. Like you, I didn't think it would come so soon. Now that I think of it, civilization isn't that civilized any more. Mostly selfish people spending all their time trying to get more and more of the things they already have too much of." He shook his head. "If I survive, I won't miss the old ways. I'll miss the conveniences, of course, but not the people. Maybe it's time to start over. Develop a new society. A better society. A better world. The Prince would say it is about time and it is Allah's will. I accept your kind invitation. Should I bring anything?"

  "Money, especially credit cards. Weapons. Transportation to London. Everything you've ever learned. A strong desire to survive. That's all."

  "You owe Wu Chan thousand dollars. Three hundred dollars, my cut. Pay up."

  Ignoring Cho, he said, "The money and credit cards may not be up to your standards, but the rest are easy. Abdul's father has a cargo flight leaving tomorrow for London. The one we talked about on the phone. I reserved the whole passenger compartment for us. He usually allows some of his friends to travel to London, but none tomorrow. Dawn is the best time for takeoff in the desert as it's coolest then."

  "Good. I have some business in London."

  "I'll see you out front. Four in the morning. We'll drive your car. I'll have it ready. Abdul is returning. I'll go."

  Abdul walked over, putting cash into his wallet. Upon seeing Charles he said, "My friend Charles. I forgot that you and John knew each other."

  "Yes, nice to see you again, John. Hope to see you soon. And Cho and Masako as well."

  "Fèi wù."

  As Abdul sat down, the food arrived. "Abdul, the service is amazing as always."

  "John, you are the most predictable, as always. Did you and Charles have a nice conversation?"

  "Yes, he looks well. He must like it here. Do you really need someone like him for security? I would think the local police would be more than adequate."

  " 'Like him,' John. Whatever could you mean?" Abdul said with a smile as he took a piece of the flat Arab bread and swirled it in a small plate of vinegar and olive oil.

  "As I recall, Charles is a bit over the top. Wasn't he once some kind of secret agent?"

  Abdul half-laughed "Yes, MI-6, I believe. Some kind of Special Forces before that. He had to leave MI-6 because of some -- misunderstanding."

  "Yes, now I remember. They misunderstood that those fourteen people were all trying to kill him."

  "True. Sadly, my friend John, we sometimes attract the wrong sort of people here. Not like your honorable selves. It became tiresome to call the local police so often. Charles has been worth his weight in gold. Now, let us eat this beautiful meal."

  * * *

  The next morning, before the sun rose, John, Cho and Masako stood in front of the hotel with their luggage. Both Cho and Masako were yawning as their car pulled up, with Charles driving. He stepped out and helped load their luggage. Cho and Masako hopped in the back while John took the driver's seat and Charles rode shotgun. John drove off and headed back across the desert toward Dubai.

  "Had much trouble here, Charles? I heard some rumors."

  "A little. The Prince likes to gamble. Unfortunately, he doesn't like it when he loses and he loses much more often than he wins. I've tried to teach him, but he doesn't have the instinct for it. When he has a pigeon in his sights, he lets him off easily. He's a nice guy, but a terrible gambler. He barely makes enough money selling overpriced camels to wealthy Saudis to cover his gambling debts. His father hates his gambling and won't cover his debts anymore. I've had to pull him out of scrapes every other week. I've been worried that, one day, I wouldn't be able to protect him. Then, not only will he be in trouble, but so will I. It was a surprise to hear about the virus, but I'm glad to be leaving. As you may know, the Arabian Peninsula has its own version of the virus. A few have died within the last week."

  "Not own version. Early version. Same flue, but not so powerful. Now, stronger. Much more powerful."

  "I suspected as much." Charles turned and faced Masako and Cho in the back seat. "Cho, I am sorry about the money. I'll try to make it up to you. If it were a little lighter outside, you could see the desert. You're lucky for the darkness. The desert is boring. Mostly flat and mostly dirt with only a small bush for scenery about every fifty feet or so. You would have seen exactly the same image, if you had traveled this road two hundred years ago. The only difference is that now, each of those small bushes has managed to capture a white plastic bag of the kind used at grocery stores. Times have changed in the desert, but except for oil and plastic bags, it's not noticeable at all."

  "How did you and John meet?" said Masako. "John has some unusual friends."

  "And some beautiful ones," he said, smiling at Masako. "Before I was here, I was in China for two years. Spent quite a few great weekends at John's place. Finally, my sponsor went bankrupt trying to sell pirated computer software. He went bankrupt because the government raided his production facility and warehouse and burned the building to the ground. He was upset with me because he thought I should have warned him. The government said it was an accident, but none of the police were hurt and all the disks and the equipment to make them went up in flames. The fire was a cover-up. The government didn't want any evidence around that such things were going on. When John heard about it, he set me up with Abdul's father. John and I have continued our friendship over the last year or so. I have made several trips to China for visits."

  "Visit with Wu Chan, silly girl. No head for business."

  As they approached the airport, the tip of the sun was barely above the horizon. They dropped off the car into the same 'No Parking' zone where they first found it and took a taxi to the commercial terminal. There, Charles walked with them to the plane. It was a 737 with a small first-class passenger section for a dozen people in the front and a large cargo section in the rear. They watched as dozens of boxes and two camels were loaded.

  "What in boxes, Charles?"

  "The beautiful Cho speaks and her voice is like the birds singing in the trees."

  "Cut crap, Charles. You spend too much time with Abdul. What you guys smuggle?"

  "It's labeled camel food."

  "Alcohol. Camel not drink alcohol."

  "I think so. And, who knows what else? I'm not involved with that. I promise. The Prince hasn't sold many camels lately and the races he wins are all rigged. People have finally found out. I think the camels he sells are
chopped up and eaten. They buy them just to be nice and to make sure he cooperates with the smuggling. His main source of income is alcohol and drugs. I'm glad I don't have to worry about that any more."

  "That what I thought."

  John smiled. "Cho can detect smuggled alcohol and drugs better than any bloodhound."

  "Even if nobody write 'camel food' on box. Big load of crap."

  "I'm afraid this is going to be a milk run, folks," said Charles. "We have to stop in Riyadh to drop off the camels and the boxes, then on to London."

  "No problem. Anybody else on board?" said John.

  "No, just the crew of five." Charles lost his normal smile and his expression became serious. "You really think civilization is ending, John? Going out of control?"

  "Not the complete and total end, of course, but the end of most of the things we've known and always taken for granted. The biggest problem will be no more police. That frightens me and we have to prepare ourselves. The world will be completely out of control, except for what we can control ourselves. That's the big reason I wanted you to join us. Beyond that, we were good friends and I thought I owed you. You and Masako have that in common. I always thought the two of you gave me more than I gave you." John was trying to slowly let the women know what the immediate future held, especially Masako. They would all have to be strong.

  "That's interesting," said Charles.

  "Yes," said Masako. "We'll talk more later."

  "The end of the world as we know it?"

  "That's what many have called it, Charles."

  "You say that as if this has been predicted."

  "Well, not this particular end, but the end of the world has been predicted many times by many people for many reasons. It's just that this time, it will happen and all those who have been preparing for something, for anything, will feel vindicated. They may not have predicted exactly what would take us down, but they predicted that something would."

  "John wrong. I say not end. Is beginning. Only end to crazy world. Time to start over. This time, make better world. Not so crazy."

  "No more hundred dollar hookers?"