The Lost Choice Read Free Page B

Everything I have told you will come to pass, but the time is not now. These men must not find it here! Take this,” he said and placed a piece of the possession in Kasi’s hand. “I love you,my son!”And with those words,Alem grabbed the dead camel and with a desperate effort pulled the animal completely over his boy.
    Uncomfortable and terror-stricken, Kasi lay still, barely able to breathe, listening to the fighting just above him. And just as suddenly as it had begun—it was over—quiet except for the barked commands of someone whose language he did not understand. He heard them moving off into the distance. Then silence. The entire attack had taken less than three minutes.
    For a long time Kasi lay there. He was unsure of what to do. Finally, dizzy from the heat and lack of oxygen, the boy dug himself out. It wasn’t easy, but by displacing sand and inching his arm out first, he was able to escape the hiding place that had saved him from . . . what?
    Kasi stood up and looked around. The sun was rising in the eastern sky. He saw two more camels dead. And four human bodies, stripped of their robes, lying facedown in the sand. Fearfully, the boy crept over to the dead men. Glancing around, he knelt beside them. Three of the men, he saw, had long, full beards, but the fourth . . . he crawled over and turned the head.
    It was not Alem.
    Kasi stood up. So his father was not dead. Had he escaped? Was he captured? He heard a movement behind him and, startled, wheeled around to face it. Skei, he saw, had returned, landing on the back of her old friend Biba. Kasi looked at his fist, still tightly closed, and slowly opened it. A piece of the possession. A gift from a father to a son.
    Near the dead camel, he saw that the other pieces of the possession were gone, but he found a shredded remnant of the burgundy linen and rolled it carefully around the piece that remained, tying it with black cord. Using a short strap of leather from Biba’s halter, he wound it around his left shoulder and neck, then secured it to his chest where his eyes could watch it and his arms protect it. Always and all the time.
    Kasi walked over to the falcon and rummaged around for a scrap of leather. Laying it across his shoulder, he allowed Skei to settle there for a moment. Examining the sunrise, the boy placed the warm rays to his right and strode purposefully to the north.

ONE
    DENVER, COLORADO—PRESENT DAY
    IT WAS SATURDAY MORNING, SUNNY AND WARM, a perfect June day in Colorado. As Mark Chandler walked into the den, he yawned and looked at his wife who was sitting in the recliner.
    Dorry Chandler was the kind of woman people stared at, trying to determine if they thought she was attractive. She was five feet four inches tall if she stood on her tiptoes to be measured, which she was apt to do, and weighed an even one hundred pounds. Her red hair was accented by a sprinkling of freckles on her face. Mark walked over and kissed his wife on the top of her head.
    â€œWhat time did you get in?”
    â€œLate—eleven-thirty. Plane was delayed out of Dallas.”
    â€œSorry I didn’t wait up,” Mark said as he sat on the arm of the chair.“Other than the late flight,was the trip okay?”
    â€œYeah, you know,” Dorry shrugged.“Did the interview. In and out. No big deal.”
    â€œDo you have to go to the office today?” he asked.
    â€œNope. Wrote the article flying in and e-mailed it to the office last night while you snored.” She messed up his hair and headed for the kitchen.“Coffee?” she asked.
    â€œSure, thanks,” Mark said as he followed her in and sat down at the breakfast table. A Denver police officer in his fourteenth year, Mark was exactly two years older than his thirty-seven-year-old wife. He was average in height and build with dark, curly hair that occasionally grew over his ears. And that was okay. He was a detective sergeant and could get away