Sands of Redemption

32

Picking off the hard leaves of a small shrub keeping her company in the shade, Georgia stretched out her legs and leant back against the rock, staring glumly into the distance.

Throughout the morning Khalid had taken it upon himself to completely avoid her. Georgia hadn't seen him once, he having already left for a distant point of the canyon, well away from camp and herself and well before the sun had even risen enough to see anything of importance.

Glancing above, Georgia was at least grateful to have been spared any embarrassment, or dare she think it—shame—with Mohammed. She'd worried that Khalid might have told his cousin what happened, and after what Mohammed had said about her last night, the last thing she wanted was for him to think any less of her. But of course Khalid hadn't told him; she was silly to think otherwise. His pride was at stake too.

Mohammed had greeted her happily enough, expressing no judgement as he scaled the height of the canyon.

By midmorning, sweat was already coursing down her back and under her arms. She tugged at the neckline of her abaya, regretting her decision to keep herself covered up just in case Khalid should accidentally stumble upon her. She was disappointed with herself. She never would have thought that she would yield to any man, particularly if it meant that she should suffer.

What would her father think?

Thirsty, Georgia stood to get a drink of water, only to catch her foot in the abaya's long lengths. Stumbling, she fell hard into the rock face, directly upon her painful ribs.

She managed to hold her tears back, gritting her teeth as she almost puked—but she couldn't stop the rage. 'Fuck, fuck, FUCK it!' Her voice echoed against the rocks.

Wheezing, she hugged the rock face, propelling puffs of dust back into her face as agony continued to pluck hard at her ribs. Struggling to catch her breath, she braced her hands up against the rock and bent over between her arms. She spat, black spots dancing before her eyes. The blood was throbbing in her temples. It was throbbing worse in her ribs.

'What's the matter?' came Khalid's uncertain voice.

'What's it look like? I'm in terrible fucking pain!'

Thrusting herself away from the rock, she turned to face him. He stood at a distance, looking weary. The pain in her side turned cold at the sight of him.

'Not that you care!' She grabbed at her Abaya.

His eyes caught alight. 'What do you think you're doing?'

'I hate this fucking thing!' She tore it off and threw it. Sodden with sweat, it flew like a stone over their rocky shelter.

'Cover yourself!'

Gripped by a nasty spasm, Georgia grabbed her chest and dropped down into a crouch with a groan. Feeling dizzy, she collapsed to her butt.

'With what?' She laughed.

'Go and get it.'

'Make me!' She winced against a blast of agony across her back.

Clenching his fists, a muscle in his jaw ticking away, he took three steps towards her.

'Whatchya going to do? Going to hit me? Go right ahead. I expect nothing less from a fucking lunatic! Go on! That's what you people are good at, isn't it?'

Baring his teeth, he came closer, apparently bent on doing just that, when a hand curled around his arm. He stopped and glared at his cousin. Mohammed gazed back, looking very small against Khalid's stature. They didn't move for several moments, then Khalid sagged. With an affectionate squeeze of Mohammed's shoulder, he strode away.