The Quest: A Novel

he’d get. Theoretically, his American passport and press credentials and the safe-conduct pass from the Provisional Revolutionary government would ensure a good reception—which was why he and his traveling companions were trying to reach the army forces to begin with. But theory, when it butts up against reality, sometimes produces unexpected results. Especially if he had to deal with General Getachu, who was notoriously cruel, and probably insane; the perfect subject for a press interview—if he didn’t kill the reporter.
    Purcell heard something behind him, and he froze, then squeezed himself into a rock cleft. He listened and heard it again. Someone was coming down the ridge.
    He waited, then saw her sliding on her butt down a long flat rock, holding on to her camera that was hanging from her neck. She jumped off the rock and he let her get a little ahead of him, then fell in behind her as she was scrambling over another large rock.
    “Change your mind?”
    She made a startled sound, then turned toward him. “God… Frank… you scared the hell—”
    “Me too. Where you going?”
    “To find you…” She took a deep breath, then said, “Henry gave you… he didn’t give you the pass.”
    “Really?” Purcell took the plastic-wrapped sheet from his pocket and opened it. He smiled and said, “Looks like his bar bill from the Hilton.”
    She didn’t reply to that but said, “I have the pass.”
    “Good. I’ll take it.”
    She gave it to him.
    He looked at it, put it in his pocket, and said, “Thanks. See you later.”
    She glanced up at the ridge.
    He said, “Right. The climb up will kill you. Stay here.”
    “I’m coming with you.”
    He didn’t respond to that and asked, “How’s Henry?”
    “A little better.”
    “Good. And how are you?”
    “Dizzy.”
    He put his hand on her blistered forehead and asked her, “Tongue swollen?”
    “A little…”
    He took off his bush jacket and draped it over her head. “Okay. Let’s go.”
    She followed him as he moved down the ridge.
    She said to him, “Colonel Gann saw three Gallas on horseback riding through the tall grass ahead.”
    “News I can use.”
    They continued on and she said, “I wouldn’t have left him… but he tricked me. Tricked you.”
    Purcell didn’t reply.
    She said, “He and Colonel Gann thought you’d have a better chance if I were along.”
    “You have not increased my chances.”
    “In case you got hurt. Or… whatever. Better to send two people on a rescue mission.”
    “True.” Unless one of them was an attractive woman.
    The ridge flattened and they stopped a hundred feet from the high grass of the plateau. Purcell said to her, “You stay here. If all goes well, I’ll be back with a medic and some soldiers to collect you and get Henry. If I’m not back in, say, two hours—”
    “I am not staying here.”
    “You will do what I tell you—”
    “Frank, if something happens to you, I’m as good as dead here. And so is Henry.”
    “Vivian—”
    “I can’t get back up that hill, and I will not sit here waiting for the Gallas—or dying of fucking thirst.” She moved toward him and gave him a push on the chest. “Let’s go.”
    They continued on and entered the tall grass. Purcell said, “Keep a separation of twenty feet, and if you hear hoofbeats, drop and freeze.”
    They walked silently through the elephant grass, which was taller than they were. Purcell could see evidence of the battle that had been fought here during the night—naked bloated bodies lay strewn in the high grass, covered with big green flies. There was no mutilation, and Purcell guessed that it was not the Gallas but the victorious government forces that had carried off the pitiful war spoils from the slain soldiers of Prince Joshua. Fresh graves marked the spots where the government forces had buried their own dead. If he’d hoped to find a canteen of water among the carnage, that hope quickly faded.
    They continued on and the nauseating stench of death hung in the hot air. Vultures circled overhead, and one swooped down and landed near a naked body, then bent its long neck and plucked out an eyeball. Vivian, who had come up behind him, let out a stifled cry of disgust.
    Purcell rushed toward the vulture and it flew off. They continued on.
    The tall grass was beaten down where horses had passed through, and where men had fought and fallen. He saw craters made by impacting mortar rounds that had set the grass on fire, and in