That same afternoon trucks and personnel drove into the city from the outside world, the first vehicles to have done so for more than half a year. They were laden with stocks of the vaccine, manufactured in readiness at industrial labs in Ankara, and a small army of volunteers who had already been inoculated.
The quarantined quarters were kept in place, to make the vaccinations easier to police and monitor. By evening every living soul in the city of Ruin was lining up, waiting patiently for the salvation they had prayed for, everyone so relieved that deliverance was finally at hand that they failed to notice the creak of ropes as, down the side of the Citadel, the ascension platform began to descend with a lone figure standing in the center of it, watching the world rise to meet him.
VII
The earth laughs in flowers.
106
Shepherd woke to the vibration and hum of an engine. He opened his eyes and found a dark-eyed angel staring down at him. Hevva’s face instantly exploded into a smile; he smiled back and noticed that the nick in her ear was hidden behind a fresh Band-Aid and she was wearing different clothes. He was lying in the back of a jeep that was bouncing over very rough ground.
“Hi,” he croaked, his voice dry and raw.
“Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes,” Kinderman piped up from the driver’s seat. “Just in time for our arrival.”
“Arrival?”
“Yes. We’re here.”
Shepherd tried to sit up and pain shot through his side. He reached down to discover thick bandages bound tightly across his chest.
“I’d take it easy if I were you. The bullet grazed your side pretty badly. Fortunately it hit a rib, which deflected it around your body so it passed out the other side without causing too much damage. Your rib’s probably cracked, which is why it hurts so much. Pretty apt though, don’t you think, being saved by a rib, considering where we’re headed?”
Shepherd struggled upright, feeling every bounce of the jeep jarring in his side as if someone was repeatedly stabbing him. Outside, the sun was hanging low in a burnt sky above a world bleached almost white; there was nothing to see but broken land and brittle earth all around them. The only sign of life at all lay directly in front of them.
And what life it was.
The oasis shone in the sunlight like a bright jewel, deep and green, like a chunk of rain forest that had been dropped in the middle of this nowhere. “How long have I been out?”
“About twenty-four hours.”
Shepherd tried to process this fact along with the growing vision of lushness that was gradually filling the windshield. “You drove all the way?”
Kinderman picked up a bottle of pills and rattled it. “Caffeine capsules. A truck driver gave me some at the crossing into Iraq. You missed quite a party back there. So many migrants are responding to the homing instinct now that they’ve effectively thrown open the borders.”
The jeep hit another pothole, drawing a grunt of pain from Shepherd. “Here,” Hevva said, handing him a lozenge from a different bottle. “Place one under your tongue. It will take the pain away.”
He did as he was told. “She’s quite the nurse,” Kinderman said. “She dressed your wound, then bandaged you up.”
Hevva shrugged. “I used to help Mama with her work. I don’t mind blood, I’m used to it.”
Shepherd felt the soothing numbness of the pill spreading through his body, melting away his discomfort. Kinderman spotted a track leading into the heart of the green and headed for it. Hundreds of different tire marks converged on the spot, showing that many people had traveled this way before. There was a sign by the side of the road with an arrow painted on it pointing onward into the heart of the jungle. The road followed the contours of the land, through groves of young palm trees and ferns that grew so thick it became harder and harder to see the way ahead.
They had been driving for almost ten minutes when they saw the first people. They were down by the bank of a river, washing clothes in the clear water, their children playing in the shallows. A cluster of tents was set up a little way back from the bank with more laundry drying on lines stretched out between them. One of the people looked up as they passed and raised an arm in greeting. Hevva waved back.
They followed the track along the side of the river, more arrows urging them forward. More buildings emerged from the green, mostly huts made from salvage, until they rounded a final bend and saw what looked like a small town, the outskirts made up of the same temporary buildings they had seen on their way in. At the heart of it were several solid-looking buildings constructed around a pool with a fountain of water at its center.
“It’s pretty,” Hevva said, watching the rainbows drift down in the spray.
“It’s paradise,” Kinderman said, easing the jeep to a stop by the largest of the buildings. He switched the engine off and got out. Shepherd did the same, his whole body aching. He took a deep breath of the thick, perfumed air and groaned quietly as his ribs complained. There was something primordial about the place, almost womblike, with the shushing sound of the water and the moist, warm air all around them. It was so verdant and alive.
“Welcome.”
They turned to see two figures emerging from the door of one of the main buildings. The man was tall and looked Iraqi, the woman was slight with blond hair pulled into a ponytail and eyes as green as the backdrop. She waddled as she moved toward them, her hands bracing her back against the counterweight of her ripe belly.
Shepherd stared at her, her American accent triggering a memory. “You’re Liv Adamsen,” he said.
She turned the blaze of her green eyes on him. “That’s right. Do I know you?”
He shook his head, slightly embarrassed that he had spoken her name out loud. “Your name cropped up in an investigation I was involved with. You were listed as a missing person.”
She smiled. “Well, I guess you found me, Mr.…?” She held her hand out.
“Shepherd. Joe Shepherd.” He shook her hand. “This is Dr. Kinderman.”
“Bill,” he corrected.
Liv shook his hand. “I’ve heard of you.”
Kinderman smiled and cocked his head to the side. “Then you really should get out more.”
“And this is Hevva,” Shepherd said.
Hevva stepped forward and held up her hand, but instead of shaking Liv’s she placed it flat on her tummy. She pressed her fingers gently in at the sides then raised her left hand and did the same on the other. Her face turned serious. “When’s the baby due?” she asked in the quiet, grown-up way she had about her.
“Not for another month.”
Hevva continued to run her hands over the dome of Liv’s belly, her frown deepening. If any other stranger had done this it would have seemed like a gross intrusion, but because it was this serious, small girl, somehow it seemed okay. She finished her examination and looked up at Liv, shaking her head slowly.
“The baby’s coming now,” she said.
107
Sweat pricked his skin, the salt irritating the ritual wounds hidden beneath his shirt as warm air blew through the open taxi window.
The Novus Sancti was tired after the flight and the heat was making him more so. But there would be no chance for sleep, there was too much to do and so little time. He checked his phone, tapping the icon to bring the countdown up on its screen. Tonight. Everything would happen tonight.