The Quest: A Novel

took photographs. Purcell supposed that as with photos taken on an exhausting holiday, say to the Mojave Desert, these scenes would be more appreciated when viewed at home.
    The time had come for a prayer and Mercado volunteered. He said, “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in sure and certain hope of the Resurrection unto eternal life.” He added, “Rest in peace,” and made the sign of the cross, and everyone did the same.
    Purcell sat on the stone bench, wiped his sweating face, and recalled that Father Armano’s death had compelled him into thoughts of his own mortality. But for some reason, seeing and reburying the priest’s bones had filled him with a far deeper sense of mortality. The difference between then and now, he understood, was what he’d seen in Getachu’s camp, and what he’d just witnessed in the lobby of this haunting ruin. He had already seen firsthand in Southeast Asia that life was cheap, and death was plentiful. But here… here he waslooking for something beyond the grave. And he wanted to find it
before
the grave.
In sure and certain hope of the Resurrection unto eternal life.
    Vivian put her hand on his shoulder and asked, “Would you like a bath?”
    He stood and smiled. They found the sulphur pool, but Colonel Gann, in the interest of security, and perhaps modesty, forbade any skinny dipping and suggested, “Mr. Purcell and I will stand watch, and Mr. Mercado and Miss Smith will bathe fully clothed. Five minutes, then we will switch.”
    So they did that, and it felt good to be submerged in the warm water, which was cooler than the hot, humid air. Purcell made eye contact with Vivian, who was sitting on a stone bench next to Mercado, and she winked at him.
    After Purcell got out of the pool, Gann gave him the revolver with a box of ammunition, which Purcell stuck in his cargo pocket, and Gann took the Uzi submachine gun, which was a far more deadly weapon.
    They made their way to the back end of the spa where a wide, overgrown field stretched a hundred yards out and ended at a wall of jungle growth. They began crossing the field, and as they walked, Vivian said, “This is where Father Armano walked when he came out of the jungle.”
    She turned and looked back at the white spa. “I wonder what he thought when he saw that? Or did he know it was there?”
    Gann reminded everyone, “It was not built when he was imprisoned.” He also told them, “The road was also not yet improved, as we saw on the map in the Ethiopian College.”
    Purcell assured him, “It is not improved now.”
    “Well, it has deteriorated over the years. But in ’36 or ’37, the Italian Army widened it, put in drainage ditches, and paved it with gravel and tar, all the way to Gondar. Then they built the mineral spa for their army and administrators in Gondar. That’s what I saw when the British Expeditionary Force came through here in ’41 on the way to taking Gondar from the Italians.”
    Mercado said, “So we know that Father Armano was not looking for this spa—or perhaps not even the road.”
    Purcell said, “For sure not the spa. But he may have remembered the Ethiopian dirt highway from his travels with his battalion, or from the patrol he was on.” He added, “He may have been thinking of following the dirt track to Gondar.”
    Gann again reminded them, “Gondar was still in Ethiopian hands at the time of Father Armano’s imprisonment, and his knowledge of the world was frozen at that moment, and remained so until his escape forty years later.”
    Purcell said, “Right. So where was he going?”
    Mercado suggested, “He had no idea where he was going. He was just running. And if he did know of that dirt road he may have intended to go north to Lake Tana where his battalion had made camp forty years ago. Or he could have taken the road south, toward Addis, where the main units of the Italian Army were pushing north to Tana and Gondar.” Mercado added, “As Colonel Gann said, his knowledge was frozen in time, and he was acting on what he knew, or thought he knew.”
    Everyone seemed to agree with that theory, except Vivian, who said, “He was coming to find us.”
    Purcell knew better than to argue with that, but he couldn’t help pointing out again, “The spa was not here in 1936.”
    Vivian assured him, “That does not matter. We were here.”
    They continued on and reached the towering tree line, then separated to look for a trailhead. Gann, who seemed to have a