Dust: (Part I: Sandstorms) Read Online Free PDF Page B

curious, hinged in its middle, folded around a singular event that was both explicatory and mystifying. It felt very much like my own life, everything came back to that central hinge, filtered through a singular lens of before and after.
    Despite the apparent connection to my own travails it gave me a queasy, unpleasant feeling to read such obvious fictions. To imagine some creature not only having the time but the inclination to invent these tenacious lies. Had I watched a film where the author had walked into the river, her pockets laden with rocks?
    There was a small bell rigged up in next to the door and every time I pressed it someone would appear to ask what I wanted. Having the bell there delighted me and aside from the obvious limitations of my captivity I think I would have been perfectly happy there for some time, simply ringing the bell and waiting on the arrival of a man.
    The men had clearly been ordered to cater to my wishes.  I was tempted to make outrageous demands ask for sweet meats or beverages that would be impossible to deliver but they all had such idiotic expressions that I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
    I presumed that the leader must have some other place to sleep as he only appeared once in the time it took to reach Bonmont. He was very straightforward. I had been unsure if he would visit at all but in the end I suppose he had to, for the moral of the men.
    He was altogether more hesitant than in my fantasy. He paused as he removed his clothes.
    ‘You understand,’ he said.
    I couldn’t think of any answer for a question like that. I could see that he would not take me as I had imagined.
    He was gentle with me and unduly worried about my wellbeing, as if afraid of hurting me. How many others had he taken in that layer? We were both animals after all. I did my best to excite his passion. I trembled, I cowered, I breathed fearfully, I did everything to become insipid, inspire his anger, provoke him, but he remained stiff, courteous. There was a fire in him but I was unable to ignite it.
    It was only later that I realised he was probably mindful of my connection to Abel. He was afraid of the consequences, afraid that anything more than professional rigour, any enjoyment, would put him in a weak position later, could kill him. He was probably right.
    By the time we reached Bonmont I had nearly finished the book. I wondered if the author had ever visited the long vanished place that bore the protagonists name. It seemed strange now that a location could have any sort of meaningful name, anything other than sand to distinguish the landscape.
    The vehicle stopped. The door was opened and there was no dust.
    We were parked inside a hangar. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom outside. Assembled in front of the vehicle’s door stood a group of men who I took to be the unit I had been travelling with. They had stripped down from their thick, dust covered military garb and now wore slack civilian clothes.
    Without exception they looked tough. They bore that masculine resolve, a chiselled willpower that I could not help but find attractive. I remembered their hands all over me, lifting me through the sand, and I smiled from my captivity in the rear of the cabin. They shifted deferentially.
    The leader appeared behind them.
    ‘We will stop here for a few days,’ he said. ‘We will use the time to find the information we need.’
    I stepped out of the rear of the vehicle and into the hangar. The men stepped aside. The air was clear but without the vehicles filter there were inevitably particulates in suspension. I could taste the dry dust as it entered my nose.
    ‘It appears a small number of inhabitants have remained in the town.’ He ignored the other men talking directly to me. ‘I would like you to join me in interrogating them.’
    ‘What makes you think they will talk to you,’ I said. I wanted to see how he reacted, in front of the men. ‘I can speak to them on my own.’
    I could