form as he crossed a narrow street at an angle, almost colliding with a swiftly
moving droshky. Its cab bore a corpulent old Arab woman, her face a shadow
behind the black lace veil draped loosely over her like a shroud. He guessed
she was rushing to some appointment. He soon lost sight of his hurrying
friend .
The man in khaki walked, compelled. Shrugging loose of the city, he
breached the outskirts, crossing the Tigris with hurrying steps, but nearing the
ruins, he slowed his pace, for with every step the inchoate presentiment took
firmer, more terrible form.
Yet he had to know. He would have to prepare.
A wooden plank that bridged the Khosr, a muddy stream, creaked under
his weight. And then he was there, standing on the mound where once
gleamed fifteen-gated Nineveh, feared nest of Assyrian hordes. Now the city
lay sprawled in the bloody dust of its predestination. And yet he was here, the
air was still thick with him, that Other who ravaged his dreams.
The man in khaki prowled the ruins. The Temple of Nabu. The Temple of
Ishtar. He sifted vibrations. At the palace of Ashurbanipal he stopped and
looked up at a limestone statue hulking in situ. Ragged wings and taloned
feet. A bulbous, jutting, stubby ***** and a mouth stretched taut in feral grin.
The demon Pazuzu.
Abruptly the man in khaki sagged.
He bowed his head.
He knew.
It was coming.
He stared at the dust and the quickening shadows. The orb of the sun was
beginning to slip beneath the rim of the world and he could hear the dim
yappings of savage dog packs prowling the fringes of the city. He rolled his
shirtsleeves down and buttoned them as a shivering breeze sprang up. Its
source was southwest.
He hastened toward Mosul and his train, his heart encased in the icy
conviction that soon he would be hunted by an ancient enemy whose face he
had never seen.
But he knew his name.
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Updated 8 Episodes
Comments
Lucas
you can be a teacher
2020-11-19
3