Authors: Basil Sands

Midnight Sun (5 page)

BOOK: Midnight Sun

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Where
the
house
had
stood
was
a
heap
of
shattered
bricks
and
splintered
wood.
Clouds
of
dust
slowly
settled
over
the
rubble.
Terrified
villagers
peeked
from
inside
their
homes,
looking
first
at
the
destruction
then
up
to
the
sky,
praying
more
bombs
were
not
on
the
way.
Dazed,
Kharzai
stumbled
into
the
ruins
searching,
praying
that
she
had
stepped
out
the
back
door,
or
by
some
miracle
had
been
protected.
He
froze,
his
eyes
locked
on
a
piece
of
bright
orange
linen
that
glowed
in
sharp
contrast
to
the
shattered
brick
and
charred
wood.
He
moved
toward
it
and
saw
her
stockinged
foot
twisted
beneath
a
large
mass
of
crumbled
stone.
He
started
to
reach
down,
to
dig
her
out.
A
glimmer
of
gold
sparkled
two
meters
away—her necklace.
He
stepped toward it and
reached
down
to
pick
it
up,
hands
trembling,
tears
welling
up
in
his
eyes.
As
he
pulled
on
it,
a
stone
rolled
aside,
revealing
strands
of
long
brown
hair
that
wavered
in
a
breeze
that
kicked
up
low
to
the
ground.
He glanced back at her foot and instantly realized that Leila's hair and necklace were entirely too far from her feet. His stomach lurched and he struggled to force himself to a place of detached calm.
He
pulled
a
folding
knife
from
his
pocket
and
cut
the hair
as
close
to
the
source
as
he
could,
refusing
the
urge
to
dig
her
body
out,
not
wanting
to
see
her face
,
only
moments
before
full
of
life
and
beauty,
now
mangled
in
death.
He would only hold on to
the
memory
of
the
living
woman
he
loved. He tied
the
lock
of
hair
into
a
knot
around
the
gold
chain
and
pushed them into
his
pocket.

***

Kharzai
walked
into
a
Lahore
coffee
house,
the
acrid
smell
of
tobacco
smoke
and
strong
coffee
stinging
his
nostrils
as
he
crossed
the
mostly
empty
room
to
a
table
in
the
far
corner.
A
deeply tanned C
aucasian
man
looked
up
from
the
table
and
acknowledged
Kharzai's
approach.
He
started
to
rise,
but
Kharzai's
expression
advised
him
to
stay
seated.