Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #17 August 2015 | Page 63

son and knocking him to the ground. The young man
was dazed and trapped under his father’s body. He was
aware of movement around him and more shots and
running feet and then silence.
Then a new figure came into sight, Abdul was
trapped beneath his father and his head was under
the man’s chest, he could only see the feet and legs of
the new man, western trousers and western boots. His
voice was harsh and guttural, it sounded like one of the
archaeologists, Mr Gunter of Berlin spoke English like
that but not so gruff.
“Get down there, open the vault and get the
book. Faster dogs or I will have the skin flayed from
your backs. Get me the book!”
Everything went dark and silent.
#
The sun was sinking to the horizon when Abdul came back to his senses. He was still trapped under
the body of his father and the smell of death was now
everywhere. It took some time for him to wriggle free
and the effort left him exhausted. He staggered across
the dig site and everywhere he went he found death.
Every digger had been slain, many showed the
wounds from musket or sword, some seem to have
died in terror, their faces locked in wide eyed fear. The
archaeologists were also dead, killed where ever they
had been across the camp. All save two.

He staggered onward, the smoke from burning
tents behind him giving way to the smoke of burning buildings before him. He reached the village and
tripped over the body of a woman before he even realised he had arrived, the sight of the woman at his feet
bought him back to his senses and he ran as quickly as
he could manage to his own house.
The brick built structure was in flames, fire and
smoke poured out of the door and windows, both of
his brothers were by the doorway, both had been shot
and their legs and feet were in the flames. Then with a
great crash the roof gave way, flame and heat washed
out of the door, the two brothers clothes caught fire,
Abdul’s face and hands were scorched and his hair
caught fire.
He fell backwards beating at the flames on
his head, the world spun and twisted, in his mind he
heard the screams of his mother burning in the fire,
his brothers dying as they tried to defend the doorway.
Then he screamed and screamed and screamed.
#
Abdul Rashid blinked as he finished his story,
so involved had he been in the telling that he had not
noticed a second lamp being lit or that chairs had been
bought in or that the doctor had joined them.

“The man who came for the book, the one
who led the Bedouin to destroy my village and kill my
family. I have hunted him ever since, for ten years I
have searched for him. I have sworn to Allah that I will
The two old men, the leaders of the dig, the
find him and avenge my family and my village. For my
men who always argued. They were at the bottom of
vengeance I have walked into the deepest desert, I have
the deepest part of the dig beside a door that seemed to walked through cities of the dead and I have spoken to
have been revealed and opened recently. Abdul looked men who do not stand in Gods light.
at the two men and turned away before falling to his
knees, his stomach heaving again and again. Vomit
I have learned his name and his purpose. His
burning his throat and mouth. They had been tortured. name is Wilhelm Henry Oami, though he often goes
Such things had been done to them that the young
by other names. He is evil upon the land, cursed by
man could not believe it had been the work of men.
God. I have been told that he was born in Germany
more than one hundred years ago and yet he looks a
When he was finally able to stand again one
man of middle years.”
single thought filled him with dread, his mother and
brothers, the village.
The Arab paused and drew a deep, shuddering
breath.

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