Ghosts of Karnak Read Free Page B

newspapermen snapping pictures of the crates, as if the wooden caskets themselves were objects of ancient beauty, deserving of celebration on the front pages.
    Gabriel had come down to the docks for one thing, and one thing only: to be reunited with Miss Ginny Gray.
    He’d missed her terribly in the months following her departure earlier that year. She’d written him once, a simple postcard, fronted by a sprawling monochrome photograph of Luxor. On the reverse she’d written simply “missing you”, and signed off with a kiss. It had been enough, an admission that everything was not finished between them, that she hoped to see him again upon her return. He’d clung onto that, and as the perpetual party had circled on around him, flowing like a melody through his life, he’d thought only of her, and not of the pretty but vacuous women who filled his house each weekend, rich with the musk of desperation, and the search for validation.
    He had no idea what to expect upon seeing her again; whether he might hope to rekindle the affection they had clearly felt for one another, or if she’d made altogether different plans in the intervening months. He knew only that he wanted to see her coquettish smile, to brush her hair from her eyes, and to hold her in his arms. Provided she didn’t hug him too hard, of course—his ribs might not be able to withstand it.
    He glanced up at the ship, searching the deck, but could see no sign of her amongst the press of passengers waiting to be released from their floating prison.
    Vessels such as this had a tendency to spark an inexplicable sense of dread in Gabriel, particularly standing there, in its shadow, gazing up at the size of the thing. He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly; something to do with the sheer scale of it, he thought, and the notion that a machine that size had no business defying the natural order of things, ploughing its way across the surface of the ocean. That watery domain belonged to the whales and sharks and other terrible creatures that plumbed its otherwise unassailable depths. Skinny-dipping on a Long Island beach was one thing; propelling an enormous iron leviathan across the globe was quite another.
    Ginny, of course, would have taken such considerations in her stride, much as she seemed to face most things in life. To her, long weeks holed up in a tiny cabin would have seemed like an adventure, a challenge to be faced head-on, and an opportunity to experience something new. Indeed, that was how she had faced the news of Gabriel’s double life, when it had all eventually come out. More than anything, she had wanted to be a part of it, to show him that the two halves of his existence didn’t have to be quite so separate, after all.
    Gabriel dropped the butt of his cigarette and crushed it underfoot, blowing the last of the smoke from the corner of his mouth. The passengers had begun to file down one of the ramps now, jostling to be the first to hit dry land. Ginny, he knew, would take her time. She preferred to make an entrance.
    He watched the others hit the dock and spread, like an oil slick comprised of fur coats and hats, sharp suits and briefcases. Behind them, men in overalls were lifting further crates down with a crane arm, lowering them tentatively to the dock, from where, he presumed, they would be loaded onto trucks to be hauled uptown to the museum. He wondered which of them contained the remains of the queen herself, and how she’d have felt about being dragged here, all the way to the New World, only to be placed on display in a cabinet before the glassy eyes of a thousand or more New Yorkers.
    Gabriel hung back, avoiding the crowd. He was growing anxious. He’d expected to catch at least a glimpse of her by now, a slight wave from the deck, a wicked half-smile. Yet, there was nothing, not even a hint of her. He glanced redundantly at his watch, and then sighed, catching himself. It wasn’t as if he could have got the time