Read Online Beyond the Horizon by Peter Watt - Free Book Online

unless you attempt to escape.’
    Lang tried to laugh at the ridiculous notion of him attempting to escape but he coughed and bent over in pain. It was then that Matthew noticed something else. He gently opened Lang’s leather jacket to see his entrails protruding from a tear to his lower abdomen.
    â€˜God almighty,’ Matthew groaned, carefully securing the front of the jacket to retain the bulging mound.
    â€˜I know, my friend,’ Lang said through gritted teeth. ‘It would be merciful for you shoot me now.’
    â€˜We might get found by one of our flights,’ Matthew said. ‘Either yours or mine.’
    â€˜Do you believe that?’ Lang said. ‘I think that we have both been posted as missing in action. The front moves on, and if you remain here with me, nothing but our bones will be found.’
    Matthew sat back. Lang was right. He did not have enough water to keep them both alive, and remaining with the badly wounded man could cost him his own life. ‘How about I stick around until tomorrow morning?’ Matthew compromised. ‘See if any of our brothers in arms come looking for us.’
    â€˜You are a fool, Captain Duffy,’ Lang said. ‘But I thank you. I do not wish to die alone in this godforsaken place.’
    Matthew knew that Lang’s life was measured in hours rather than days. His skin was pale and damp with sweat, and his eyes had a feverish look. Even if they were rescued very soon, there was no chance of Lang recovering from such massive injuries.
    The sun was fierce now and Matthew went about constructing a makeshift overhang with his jacket to protect the wounded man against the sun. Neither man spoke as the day passed; doing so was too painful for the wounded German. Eventually the sun set and Matthew took a swig of his water before pouring the remainder into the wounded man’s mouth.
    Lang took Matthew’s hand. ‘You have used your precious water on a man you should have killed,’ he gasped. ‘You are a good man.’
    â€˜We’ll get more,’ Matthew said, although he didn’t believe it. ‘Just close your eyes and get some sleep.’
    Lang closed his eyes and when the sun was gone from the sky he slipped into a delirium, groaning and calling out for his mother. Matthew had wrapped the heavy leather jacket around Lang’s body but he still shivered uncontrollably. Above, the night sky was a blaze of stars. Lang continued to cry out, but eventually his cries faded then stopped altogether, and Matthew was left alone beside the body of the man who had shot him down.
    When the sun rose the next day Matthew laid out the body of the German flyer, crossing his arms across his chest. There was no sense in burying him as that would use up all Matthew’s strength; he had to continue trekking west today. He went through the flyer’s clothing and found a photograph of a pretty young blonde-haired woman nursing a serious-faced little boy on her lap. Matthew was lucky to find a map and fob watch in Lang’s jacket and also papers identifying him. Should he survive, Matthew was determined to have the few personal possessions forwarded through the Red Cross to the mother Lang had cried out for in his final hours. He could at least give her consolation that he had not died alone.
    The Australian flyer ate the last sandwich, now little more than smelly mush, and left the body of the German pilot not far from his downed aircraft. Then he gathered up his few possessions and walked on.
    By late morning the sun was a searing ball of flame and even the hardy desert reptiles sought shade from it. Matthew trudged on, glad to have a bullet in his revolver to finish himself off if things became hopeless. Dying of thirst was a terrible, agonising death and by evening of that day he was seriously considering using the revolver to end his suffering.

5
    J oanne Barrington’s father’s vast banking fortune could buy