The 13th Tablet (45 page)

The second wave had carried Jack like a cork back towards the shore, much farther this time, two blocks inland. He was unable to move left or right, pressed and paralysed by the ferocious current that was pinning him against the wall. Stricken with horror, he watched as a huge Coca-Cola lorry was washed away sideways like a matchbox toy and literally crushed on the hotel's outside wall, just a few paces from where he was trapped.

Mustering his strength, he clawed his way back around the side of the building, inch by inch, to avoid being taken further inland by the current. He heard high-pitched screams nearby. As he turned the corner, he saw them: two boys, one about fifteen and the other around ten. They were stuck by the hotel entrance, screaming for help. Two mangled motorboats, which had been sucked in by the force of the tsunami were hurtling towards them. Jack calculated that if he could let go of the railing and let himself be taken by the current he might just get close enough to help the boys. A torn volleyball net was entangled in what was left of the entrance to the hotel. The free end of the net was thrashing about in the water. He jumped forward, and was immediately taken by the current with tremendous force. He had just a few seconds to reach out for the net. He caught it and pulled himself forwards to the hotel entrance. He felt one of his fingernails rip as he made one last lunge towards the boys and yelled at them to join him. The older one did but the younger was frozen in panic. Jack pulled the elder one around the corner and safely into the restaurant. ‘Climb the stairs and go as high as you can' he barked at the terrified youth. He saw the smashed boats arriving at full throttle. He reached out, searching for the younger boy's hand and yanked him towards him. They struggled around the corner together and the young boy managed to get in and run to the stairwell. Jack wasn't so lucky. He had managed to avoid the thunderous crash of boats into the hotel lobby, but a huge splinter of carbon fibre from the smashed hull had pierced his right thigh.

The two boys huddled on the roof, watched their saviour's body drop back into the waters as he passed out from the pain. That was the last they saw of him, as he was carried away by the wave. They could see other people vainly trying to swim in the debris but being cut to pieces by all manner of sharp objects and shards of glass from smashed car windscreens and hotel windows. The two boys looked at each other as surviving soldiers do after a raging battle, without feelings, but with the palpable relief that life was still pumping through their veins.

 

Chapter 34

 

December 26th, 2004. Noon. Patong Beach

 

 

 

Mina was being pulled up onto the top of a truck by two men. When she reached the top and looked around her, she counted four other people in their small group of survivors. One of the men said to her with a strong French accent, ‘This is my brother, and this is his wife and this is her two cousins.' The wife was screaming relentlessly.

‘What happened to her?' asked Mina.

‘The baby, she lost the baby,' said her brother-in-law, tears running down his cheeks.

‘Oh my God,' said Mina.

The truck was very heavy and was lying on its side, having been knocked over by the first wave. But now it was grinding slowly inland with the force of the new wave. They could all hear the screeching of the metal container against the ground and the sound filled them with dread.

Mina moved to the edge of the container to get a better look at their surroundings. She had never felt so helpless in her life. Although never a religious person, today, for the first time, she felt like a tiny speck in the fury of God's path. If the authors of the tablet were right and this was just a foretaste of worse events to come, she could not begin to fathom what they might be.

Jack was barely alive, but had somehow managed to lift himself up onto some wooden planks. He examined the shard sticking out of his thigh. Thankfully, it hadn't hit the artery but he was bleeding heavily. He clenched his teeth and took hold of the shard, trying to ignore the excruciating pain. He pulled it out and then, having torn his shirt, he bandaged his thigh as best he could. It was a very nasty wound. It would soon be infected and he needed urgent medical attention, but he had no idea where he was. He felt his life and strength ebbing away.

Late afternoon. Patong Beach

Jack slipped in and out of consciousness. He was lying on his back, staring at the vastness of the sky. His body was bruised and broken beyond anything he'd ever experienced. He couldn't even remember how he'd landed on this pile of dirt. He hoped with all his heart that Mina was safe and wondered if he'd ever see her again. Images of the first time he met her came back to him, when Professor Almeini had left them together in her office. How much had happened since that day in Iraq. He thought of all his accumulated hatred towards Wheatley and Natasha. He had fantasised so often about how he would make them suffer. But in the end, Wheatley's devious plans, his own bloodlust, Mina's quest, the few truthful moments they had lived together, all of it had been washed away in one fell swoop. He couldn't think anymore and felt the drowsiness creeping over him again.

Mina and the French survivors were air-lifted to safety. As the helicopter slowly rose into the air, the full horror of the scene unfurled before her eyes; ruined remains everywhere. Mina made a silent prayer for Jack, hoping against all odds he was still alive, somewhere on the beach. She saw the bloated, drowned bodies of men, women, children and babies, scattered all over the place. Apart from a few hotels, all that was left of this popular beach resort was a huge pile of wreckage.

It would only be later that evening and over the coming days that she would learn the full extent of the devastation caused by the tsunami in South India, Indonesia and Sri Lanka, and the hundreds of thousands of lives lost to this cataclysmic event. As the helicopter flew over a row of swaying trees and left Patong beach, she couldn't help but keep her eyes fixed on the ground far below in search of Jack, even though she knew it was hopeless. With a heavy heart, she raised her eyes to the sky.

It was bright blue and peaceful, as if nothing had happened. A majestic rainbow arched over the scene below. She followed the rainbow's curve through the sky, and wondered how such beauty could emerge from so much devastation. In a flash she heard the words, the covenant between God and Noah, and a shiver ran down her spine.

 

My rainbow I do give in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth… And I will remember my covenant, which is between me and you and every living-soul among all mortals; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all living creatures.
(Genesis 9:13–5)

Epilogue

 

6 months later. New York. East Village. Café Mogador

 

 

 

Mina played nervously with her cigarette. She felt restless, sitting on the terrace of Café Mogador, her favourite hang-out. She fidgeted with her soft pack of Camel filters, not like an addict, but more like an actor in need of a prop. She'd been suffering from anxiety for months, and her state of mind had hardly improved. Whenever someone alluded to or spoke about the tsunami her head would start spinning. Sometimes, all it took were a few simple words, ‘sea', ‘wave' or ‘blue sky' and she'd start to feel queasy. The only person with whom she'd even tried to talk about the tsunami was her counsellor. But every time she was about to speak, she froze up. She'd bottled it all up inside her, and thought about the tsunami like something that had happened, but not really to her. Even worse, as far as her parents were concerned, she'd been to visit Jack's family in West Virginia for Christmas. She didn't know how to begin to explain that she was in Thailand on December 26th and was, in fact a tsunami survivor. Not being able to talk about her experience made it impossible for her to deal with the existential questions that had haunted her ever since that day.

 

When she finally made it back to the US, she had stayed a few weeks with her parents in the East Village, before finding a cosy apartment in the Upper West Side, closer to campus. During those first weeks at home, they'd gently tried asking Mina why she had cut short her holidays with her new boyfriend. She had not said a word, even when they had asked her directly about Mosul. She preferred to let them think that she'd kept silent about her last month in Iraq because things hadn't worked out with Jack. She had also written a letter along those lines to Professor Almeini, thanking him for the opportunity he'd offered her at the Department of Cuneiform Studies, and for his constant support. She knew that he would guess there was more to her sudden flight than this boyfriend story, but she also knew he wouldn't pry. On the positive side, she had made up with Nigel, her doctoral supervisor, and she was back on track, working harder than ever on her dissertation. She had also managed, with Nigel's help, to secure a three-year grant for Hassan to pursue his studies in New York. She had delivered on what she had promised. After that, Hassan could make anything he chose to of his life. She wasn't too worried about him; he would always land on his feet. Hassan's personality would always lead him to success. He was clever, wouldn't let anyone tread on his toes, and yet his heart was in the right place. She took a sip of mint tea and lit another cigarette. She inhaled the smoke and then watched its blue-grey plume rise swiftly, and vanish into the air. Her arms dropped limply by her side. The sky was deep blue and peaceful, just as on that fateful day. She sighed deeply, and her thoughts drifted away to forgotten places. Eventually her gaze hardened as it returned to the table, the street and the people around her. None of the people who walked by her table could possibly imagine what she'd been through. How could they picture the indomitable power of nature destroying all humans, regardless of race, age or culture; indiscriminately tearing their constructions and beliefs to shreds?

 

She had survived, and like many survivors felt guilty about the very fact of having survived. She couldn't stop thinking of all those who hadn't made it. But something else tormented her. The more she tried to avoid thinking about it, the more it made her mind reel. The naked truth was that she had had prior knowledge of the event. So had Jack, Daniel and Joshua. It was predicted in the 13th tablet. Of course, none of them knew that a tsunami would actually happen for a fact, nor what shape the disaster would take, but they had held the strong belief that something terrible would happen and knew precisely when it would strike. Could they have done more? Had they still possessed both tablets intact, or even Benjamin of Tudela's letter, maybe they'd have stood a better fighting chance. But Shobai and his men had made sure that their vision of what they believed was God's plan would run its course smoothly, unhindered by humans. But was it God's plan? This was no Deluge. It was a flood, a horrendous one, certainly, but nothing as awesome as Noah's Flood which had destroyed all of humanity. As the rabbis had correctly concluded in Safed, so long ago, whatever God's plan was, it was beyond human reach. Nature proceeds for better or for worse, but it is up to mankind to do everything in its power to save and perpetuate life on earth. She would never know if Oberon had lied about there being other tablets around the world, as he had disappeared that day in Phuket with all his men. Was Shobai aware of these other tablets? Was he still tracking her whereabouts? These were the questions that had been tormenting Mina almost daily since she'd returned to New York.