Page 8 of What is Found

Outside the MACDoland’s in Khorog.

“We’re a half day behind schedule and losing daylight now,” Davila said, as they huddled over creased paper maps Parviz had spread on the floor of the van’s cargo bay. “So, the question is how to make up some time here, get to our contact in Ishkashim.”

“Uh-huh,” John said, a little vaguely. He was preoccupied. He’d kept an eye out for that boy who’d prevented John’s being fleeced by the counter guy inside the restaurant but hadn’t spotted him. He worried for the kid. The bluff guy with thetaqiyyawho’d been ready to go toe-to-toe with Davila seemed like the type of man who wouldn’t mind taking his frustrations out on a kid.

Plus, there was something about the boy…something he’d not mentioned to Davila because there’d been no time…that troubled him even more.

In fact, seeing the kid was a little like Scroogebeing visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past, minus the happy ending. For Scrooge, the whole thing had been a dream.

For John, the memories were nightmares.

All those boys.The look on all those kids’ faces, the way relief had relaxed the tightness around their eyes, the lines around their mouths. The way their mouths had wobbled into tentative grins and then smiles so wide, their teeth gleamed in the light from their flashlights and lanterns.

But he remembered this, too, that odd vibration they’d all felt at the same moment. A shifting and shivering of the earth under their feet, as if the rock had turned, for an instant, to gelatin. Then had come a sound, very faint, a sort of mutter.

That was when Roni grabbed his arm.Oh, my God, John, that sound.Her eyes were wide as headlamps, and the face that looked back at him in the light of his lantern was bleached to the color of old bone.Oh, my God, John, that sound. It’s…

“Hey, Earth to Worthy.” Davila snapped his fingers in front of John’s nose. “Anybody home?”

“Uh…” Blinking away from his memories, he forced himself to focus on the here and now. Parviz swore that his maps, which he’d used throughout their journey, were more detailed than anything on their phones. The maps were vintage, with Cyrillic characters and stars and circles and tiny notes penciled in what John thought was Tajik. “Maybe we’re still all right,” he said to Davila. “Our contact in Ishkashim is supposed to hang around for another day and a half.”

“No, no.” Parviz was filling the driver’s side gas tank from a fuel can. “Have big problem. Much bigger.Huge.”

The driver was doing a pretty good imitation of Julia Roberts, though John doubted the guy had ever seenPretty Woman.“Like what?”

“Border problem.Bigproblem. When go pee, other driver say Taliban close border Ishkashim.”

“What?” Davila scowled. “What do you mean,closed? Why?”

“Why Taliban do anything?” Withdrawing the jerry can’s spout, Parviz capped the tank, screwed on the gas cap, and shut the flap. “Taliban want close, border close. Taliban no need reason. They say security.”

Or maybe the border was closed because they got a whiff of us.John swapped a look with Davila; read that the other man was thinking the same. “What do you think?”

“I dunno. Youdohave to wonder why now.” Davila ran a hand through his hair and blew out. “Parviz, is there another way across the border?”

“Yes.” Reaching past, Parviz slotted the empty jerry can behind a bungee cord on one side of the van then straightened, studied the map a quick moment then pinned the map to the cargo bay with a grimy finger. “This only open crossing.”

“Shin Khan Bandar?” John’s gaze ticked back andforth between the two crossings. “That’s pretty far west of here. Almost in a direct line with Kabul.”

“Yeah, don’t much like that.” Davila’s scowl deepened. “How many hours away is that?”

Parviz’s eyes rolled heavenward as if for inspiration as he calculated. “Half day? Twelve, thirteen hour.”

“In other words, and given the condition of the roads,” Davila said, “another full day.”

“But only if we do that. Switching up plans now only makes sense if you assume that whoever’s meeting us knows Ishkashim is closed to border traffic.Iwouldn’t make that assumption,” John said. “Would you?”

Davila, still frowning: “No.”

“Exactly. Now, we have clear instructions about Ishkashim, not this other place.” When Parviz opened his mouth to protest, John held up a hand. “I’m not saying that what you were told isn’t accurate, but it’s weird, don’t you think. Comingnow, especially when we’re only, what…another half day at the most before we get there?”

“What do you mean, weird?”

“Think, Davila. You didn’t get any messages, right? No flares? No one’s waving us off? Our bat phones haven’t so much as burped. Instead of changing plans without knowing what our contact’s doing, doesn’t it make more sense to call in? That’swhywe’ve got these phones in the first place. Worstcase scenario, we hang out until someone comes up with a contingency plan.”

He watched Davila think about that then move his head in a slow nod. “Gotta agree. Makes sense,” Davila said, sliding a hand into his right front pants pocket. “Okay, I’ll call in. Take two?—”

“What?” John asked when Davila went rigid. “What is it?”

---