The seer thirty six, p.1
The Seer (Thirty-Six), page 1
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Acknowledgments
About the Author
The Seer
by
Jared Nathan Garrett
Copyright © 2016 by Jared Nathan Garrett
All rights reserved. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the express written permission of the author.
Cover Design by Carter Reid
Interior Design by Snowflake Press
For my father Bruce, and mother, Magdalen.
CHAPTER ONE
The morning rain fell so hard that Nathan Eckhoff almost wondered if he’d gone back in time and the Nile was going to flood. Ridiculous. He pictured the bunker-like Aswan Dam with its sloping sides and massive columns. Yeah, no more flooding.
He glanced at the sky. Where was this rain coming from anyway? Egypt was a desert for a reason. Rain like this almost never happened. It felt almost biblical.
Shaking his head at the weird weather, he dashed down the Cairo street. The smell of the rain combined with wet stone and an odor like old, boiling basil. Nathan tugged his rain parka hood over his head, wishing the pick-up location were closer to his flat, like it was for the professors.
Movement caught his eye from across the road. Tingles spread down his neck and back, the hair on his arms standing. A figure, difficult to make out through the rain and murk of the early morning, seemed to be watching him. Is that a trench coat or a suit? Nathan felt like he was trying to peer between rain drops as he stepped toward the watcher. Whatever the—man?—wore, it was kind of gray.
It was a man. A white beard and white hair.
Nathan shivered and looked away. Was that guy watching him?
He spun and broke into a fast walk. Approaching the next intersection, he tossed a glance back toward the man.
The street was empty.
What the hairy heck?
Nathan stared at the spot where the man had been standing. I didn’t imagine him, did I?
Confused, Nathan broke back into a slow jog. He pushed his thoughts to images of Kelsey’s face last night, softly lit by the sconce lights in the restaurant. He swallowed the catch in his breath. In that light, her smile and crinkling eyes had sparkled. He and Kelsey had spent the night talking, ignoring the other interns. Almost like a date.
He should ask her. Just dinner. Why would she say no?
Without realizing it, he’d slowed to a walk, having to squint to see through the rain.
A pile of something to his right shifted. Tingles slid down his neck and spine, fading as he noticed it was a woman with what looked like three kids, huddled under a ragged tarp.
She stared at him and he realized he was just standing there. Must be hungry. And the bread line’s probably a few hours away. How would it be to live like that? Living on the streets, with your kids, no way to earn money?
He reached into his parka, extracting the paper bag of fresh rolls he’d picked up earlier. Shoving a couple of Egyptian pounds into the bag, Nathan stepped closer to the huddled family. “It’s okay,” he said in Egyptian Arabic. Her eyes narrowed. “Here, I have bread—and no long line.”
Her stare never left him, but in the space of a second, the bag left his hand and disappeared under the tarp.
He took off, jogging across the next intersection. As he crossed the street, he peered through the rain at the area around him. Something felt—heavy, as if somebody were standing right behind him. He glanced left and right.
Unnerved, he took a deep breath. Imagining things. This is what happens when you’re up so late, dummy. You start freaking out over nothing.
He turned a corner and the mini-bus came into view, its exhaust plume mixing with the mist being driven off the pavement by the pounding rain. Nathan darted across the road into the shelter of the qahwa shop the team met at every morning. Thick tendrils of rich aroma tugged at him. His mouth tightened in anticipation of his first cup. He smiled, raising his chin in greeting at the mini-bus driver, Falah, who sat at a small, round table in the shop.
Despite being late, Nathan was the first to arrive. He nodded at the shop’s proprietor. “Alo,” Nathan said, reaching to take the saucer with the small cup and copper pot on it. The proprietor let loose with a lengthy complaint about the unusual rain and what it meant.
Nathan agreed and made his way to a table as a group of three more interns from his dig crew spilled through the doorway. Glenda, her tiny friend Annie, and Donald all looked like slightly heated death, as usual. All of them must have stayed for a while after Kelsey and I left.
“I could kill for some coffee right now,” Glenda said, tossing her long dark hair as she dropped the hood of her parka, spatters of rain flying everywhere.
Annie barked a laugh that seemed too big for her petite frame. “Yeah, but the question is where would you hide the body? It’s not like there are any tombs around here.” Nathan smiled at that. Nice. Says the lady who spends all day digging in a thousand year old tomb.
Glenda joined her friend in laughter. Don’s low chuckles came in a little late; Nathan had no trouble seeing how forced Don’s laughter was. Poor guy. He just wants to fit in. Not for the first time, Nathan wished he knew how to make small talk. Don could use a friend, or at least someone who paid attention to him.
Setting his coffee on a table, Nathan yanked off his parka and shook it as he draped it on the back of a chair, dangling his satchel over the top. Dark water spots appeared on the concrete floor, spreading and softening at the edges as the stone absorbed the rainwater. The interns’ voices echoed loudly in the small café as they fumbled through ordering qahwa in English. Easing himself into a chair, Nathan glanced at the group of new PhDs, a smile stretching his cheeks. Should I help them get their coffee?
As Glenda’s voice got louder, he mentally shrugged. Nah. They’ll figure it out.
A tight squeeze in his stomach reminded him he’d given away his breakfast. He forced the regret away. He could find a snack soon.
Glenda, her qahwa in hand, walked toward Nathan’s table. “First as always, eh Almost Doctor?”
Nathan pushed a smile onto his face. “Yep.” Adorable. ‘Almost Doctor’ had been her nickname for him since day one. A harmless, dumb joke from—well, pretty much a harmless person.
She folded her tall body into the chair across from him. “You and Kelsey have a good time?”
He resisted rolling his eyes at her suggestive smile. “Yeah. Nice walk. Before all this started, of course.” He indicated the rain.
Glenda sipped, raising her eyebrows and practically leering at him with heavily made-up eyes.
As Annie and Don joined them, Nathan wished he’d sat at one of the smaller tables. Sure, they were good people, but sometimes a guy just wanted to be alone.
“Staying dry?” Annie asked.
Despite her sometimes too-loud laugh, Nathan liked Annie more than Glenda. “Yeah,” he said, trying to make it obvious he didn’t really want to talk. When was Kelsey going to show up? And Dr. James. Why was that guy always late?
Nathan watched Don get left out in the cold, as usual, while Annie and Glenda launched into a conversation about an urn they’d worked on yesterday at the dig. Poor guy. Nathan almost laughed at himself. He’d been thinking the same thing about Don for the last three weeks. He briefly wondered if Don realized that everybody knew how infatuated he was with Glenda. The way Don looked at her—Yeah, puppy dog.
“We should go to a movie tonight,” Annie said, looking around the table. “If the dig gets called off today on account of rain, we could even go early.” She set her cup on its saucer, waiting for a response.
Nathan smiled. A movie? In Cairo? What a waste! “Yeah. Maybe Curse of the Nile.” He waited for laughter but was only met by dry expressions of bemusement. He stood and cro
“What’s playing?” Don asked, his voice just loud enough to be heard from behind Nathan.
“I don’t know, but there’s that theater like two blocks from the hostel,” Annie said.
“And the club is right next to it,” Glenda said.
Nathan smiled at the shop owner and took the saucer with the small, steaming mug. Would it be rude to sit at a different table?
Yes.
As he rejoined the group, he glanced at the door, a prickling feeling running down his spine. Was somebody out there? A sensation, almost like light pressure on his shoulders, ran through him. Was somebody watching him? He scanned what little he could see of the rain-drenched street. The sensation stayed—almost as if he could see something out of the corner of his eye if he turned fast enough. He stood, listening and watching for—anything. Long moments passed. The feeling faded.
Nathan turned to the table with the other interns.
“So how about it, Almost Doctor?” Glenda shot Nathan a smirk. “You think you and Kelsey want to see a flick?”
Nathan favored her with raised eyebrows. Glenda knew his program had been delayed, but she had no way of knowing why. He swallowed past the sudden pain in his throat. She just didn’t know. It wasn’t her fault.
“I don’t know. You can ask Kelsey when she gets here.” He brought the mug to his lips, savoring the sharp heat, trying to exorcise the memories and pain.
Annie’s laugh exploded across him. “Dude. Why pretend nothing’s going on? Everyone knows you two are together.”
Nathan forced a single-syllable chuckle, seeing a pained expression cross Don’s face. “You mean everyone assumes.”
“Yeah, okay,” Glenda said. “You’re just friends.”
Nathan shrugged, hoping to let the subject fade from the conversation. Should I mention her and Chris? He glanced at Don, wondering if he had figured it out yet. The poor guy had no chance because Glenda and Chris had been an item from day one of the dig. Had Don noticed or was he so infatuated that he couldn’t see reality?
How could Don not know? It seemed so obvious to Nathan. It’s just observation. His first lesson from more than ten years ago with Dad came back to him, watching people go in and out of public places, drawing conclusions based on body language and other indicators.
Nathan’s vision blurred, his throat tightening.
Dad.
Guilt, familiar now after so many months, filled him like a thick fog. All of those telephone conversations which grew more and more rare. Dad’s voice coming down the line to Cairo from the old house in Palo Alto. How did I miss it? He inhaled the rich aroma of the coffee, fighting the tightness in his throat.
He should have known what was coming, what with Mom being gone for so long and Dad’s MS getting worse by the week. But Dad was always so upbeat, so proud of him, so excited about, in Dad’s words, “the challenging path” Nathan was following.
A flash of anger passed through him; he forced it away instantly. Dad had been suffering for so long, and the loneliness hadn’t helped. Obviously suicide had ended up being Dad’s way of ending all of that. And I can’t blame him. All of that pain. Dad had felt so alone.
He needed a time machine, needed to go back and fix it, spend time with Dad. He should have said something, asked his dad about how he was, talked about something that might take Dad’s mind off his illness. Or maybe just left Egypt. Why was I so stupid?
He lifted his mug to his lips again. I’ll never ignore the urge to help, or at least say something. Never again.
Loneliness welled up like blood from a cut. He would finally be finishing his PhD soon. Dad would have shouted long and loud during the graduation ceremony. Nathan stared at the shiny copper of the small kettle on his saucer.
But no, he was an adult orphan, now that both Mom and Dad were gone. He wondered when he would get used to not being able to call Dad about something he’d learned, or a place he’d visited.
It’s all right. Dad’s gotta be happier wherever he is now.
Nathan wrenched his thoughts back to the present, to his quickly cooling qahwa. This had to stop. Six months at home, going through countless papers, opening and discarding innumerable condolences, sleeping surrounded by a lifetime of memories but still feeling totally alone—that should be enough.
It had to be enough. He had to stay focused. This dig, this job in Cairo, this was part of his dissertation. He nodded at Chris, then smiled at Kelsey as she appeared right behind Chris, water dripping from her parka. Kelsey returned his smile. Sometimes not so alone.
As she went to the counter, Nathan stared at his table, studying the grain. He had to work. Dad would expect it of him. Even in the worst of his MS, Dad would have his text-to-speech computer system read him the latest articles on neuroscience. I just wish you hadn’t given up.
He breathed slowly past the lump in his throat, forcing his thoughts back to the café; the searing, bitter qahwa; the dig.
Dr. James, the leader of the team, along with Dr. Hintze and Dr. Thomas, fumbled into the café, arguing about something. As usual, Hintze and Thomas seemed to be taking great joy in teaming up against Dr. James.
Nathan took a long sip and scanned the room to make sure everyone was here. Startled, with chilly tendrils sliding down his back, Nathan forced his eyes to slide over the white-haired man in a pristine gray suit who sat at a table in the back of the café. How long had that guy been there? Nathan felt certain the man hadn’t been there when he’d come in ten minutes ago.
And Nathan felt sure he would have seen the guy come in. Unless there was a back door. He let his gaze wander back to the suited man. A strange shock flowed over him, his neck tingling. The guy was staring right at him.
Wait. Dark gray suit. White hair and beard.
Was that the guy who’d been out in the rain, watching him? Nathan glanced at him again. The man was completely dry.
A shiver passed through Nathan. It was the same guy, for sure. And he was definitely following him. Seriously. What were the chances that the same guy he’d seen something like six blocks away would end up in the same café?
Nathan gulped his coffee and stood, reaching for his parka. And why was the guy staring at him? Maybe he was from the Cairo government, an observer or something.
Nathan quickly swept his gaze across the white-haired man again. No. Definitely not from the government.
“Enough dallying.” Dr. James’ voice carried easily through the café. The man had been lecturing in huge halls for over thirty years; he knew how to project. “We must be off.”
Nathan set his saucer on the low counter with a soft clatter and grabbed his parka, glancing to the back of the café again. The white-haired man was gone.
What on earth? He snagged his parka, shook any remaining droplets off, and pulled it around his shoulders. He searched the shadows of the coffee shop as he brought up the end of the line moving toward the mini-bus. Nothing. Where had the guy gone? There had to be a back door.
Buttoning his parka and slinging his bag diagonally across his chest, he took a few steps toward the back of the café.
“Mr. Eckhoff, we are leaving.” Dr. James sipped his qahwa noisily.
Nathan glanced at the archaeologist and nodded. “Be right there.” Taking long strides, he navigated among the tables and got a good look at the back wall of the café.
A dark blue door, closed tightly.
Nathan let out a breath. See? Nothing to worry about.
He turned and followed the others out to the mini-bus.
But who was that guy? And why was he so sure that the white-haired man in the café had been the same person who he’d seen in the rain?
Nathan felt the sensation come again, as if somebody were watching him.
He laughed silently. I’m being ridiculous. Keeping his head ducked as he moved toward the back of the mini-bus to sit near Kelsey, he willed the concern away. It’s the stress. Dad and this dig and everything.
Is paranoia the first sign of a nervous breakdown?
The concern didn’t leave. It had to be the stress.
Nathan watched through the windows as the mini-bus pulled away. Was the white-haired guy going to suddenly appear on the seat next to him?
Long minutes passed as he clenched his jaw, tension making his back ache as he stared out the windows at the gray, rainy streets.
