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Back The Desert of Glass Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. BY MICHAEL C. GRUMLEY
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. EPILOGUE
  82. II
  83. III
  84. IV

“You said we could take pictures,” insisted Mona and held up her phone.

The younger woman suddenly looked nervous, realizing she had inadvertently invited them through the house.

Mona slowly waved her phone, recording both large rooms near the entrance and then heading for the stairs, making it only a few steps before the second, older woman emerged from the hallway yelling.

Covered in robe and niqab, revealing only her eyes, she shouted profoundly from under the fabric.

Undeterred, Mona turned and bolted up the stairs, reaching another wide hallway at the top with doors lining each side.  She rushed forward, briefly pushing each of them open and recording each room as the doors swung open.

Below, Omar stepped to the side and glanced down the same hallway in which they’d just been, where he spotted a distant figure, a male, through the screen door, appearing from nowhere and approaching the back of the house.

“Mona!” he yelled.

Above him, she was still pushing doors open and scanning with her phone.

“MONA!”

“What?”

The other man was now running toward the house.

“We have to leave!”

She suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs and looked down, with both women yelling angrily at her.

“NOW!”

By the time the unknown man had made it through the house and out the front door, Omar had started the engine and was pulling the gear shift into reverse, spitting dirt and gravel forward in a cloud as he stomped the accelerator even before his door was shut.  Causing the door to swing open wider before suddenly slamming shut when he found the brake.

He then slammed the shift back into drive and stomped on the accelerator again, peeling out in a half donut until bouncing up and over the asphalt.

34

34

Mido Saad, or Beih Saad, was calmly resting in a plush leather chair, quietly peering out through a thick glass window at the giant, expansive estate before him.  The sheer vastness of it all, situated on the western outskirts of Cairo and extending into the endless desert beneath a fading sun.

At the moment, however, Saad’s aged face was strangely detached from the grandeur before him, both from the view as well as the opulent air-conditioned room in which he was occupying.  Decorated throughout in fine red leather, expensive lead glass, and exquisite gold trim around the entire room, all were as far from his thoughts as the immense villa, magnificent and baking outside under the intense afternoon sun.

Instead, Saad simply stared absently and apathetically forward as the nurse quietly flitted around him, silent in her work while administering the treatment.

Saad never looked at his chest, nor at the thin tube running up from it, or even at the machine carefully distributing the liquid directly into his bloodstream through the length of clear tube.

There was almost no acknowledgment of his situation at all.  Just acceptance.