Read Online Rare Earth by Davis Bunn - Free Book Online

words were masking something deeper. What that might be, or how he might uncover the hidden meaning, he could not tell. “I’m just trying to get a handle on what happened to him.”
    â€œSerge heard about villages being evacuated north of the volcano’s eruption. But according to the lava flow, Serge was certain they were in no danger. The elders who arrived with the new flood of refugees confirmed this. Serge went to find out what was going on.”
    It was the first chance he’d had to see Kitra up close. Her green eyes were so dark they appeared almost black in the shade, but became translucent in the sunlight. It was a remarkable transformation, as though two sides of her nature were revealed in her gaze. Kitra was too strong a woman to be called beautiful in any classical sense. A vibrant energy radiated from her. As their truck lumbered and swayed, every brush of her arm created sparks. Or so it felt to him. Kitra gave no sign she either noticed or cared.
    Kitra went on, “Serge suspected that corrupt bureaucrats were using this latest disaster as an excuse for a land grab. Ever since the national elections three years ago, the Kenyan power structure has been rushing to take advantage of the chaos and line its pockets. Serge assumed it was just more of the same.”
    â€œYour brother sounds like one amazing guy.”
    For some reason, his words finally released the tears. Kitra wiped dusty streaks across her face and struggled to keep her tone steady. “Serge lived to give voice to the voiceless. It was his defining trait. I’m certain that’s why he was made to disappear. He tried to protect the innocent. He asked the wrong question. He made an enemy of the wrong man.”
    Marc’s mini-convoy required three hours to cover the twenty-two kilometers. The terrain turned hilly for the last five miles, the going increasingly rugged. They held to tracks or game trails or, on a few occasions, simply cut across open fields. The roads were rivers of humanity and beasts, all headed in the opposite direction. The savannah was populated by giant acacia trees, their distinctive flat tops shaped like living tables.
    At the crest of one rise, Kitra asked the driver to stop. She climbed down and motioned for Marc to join her. Far to the south rose the lone mountain crowned by fire. The volcano’s smoke was a giant stain upon the arid blue sky. To his left, refugees crowding the highway formed a single dusty line, as though an entire nation was on the move.
    Kitra pointed to the east. “That was where Serge was taken.”
    Where she pointed, a trio of candelabra trees flanked a deserted village. The towering trees and the vacated huts were chalky with ash. There were no animals save a few vultures. No sound save the wind, and a far-off rumble, soft and constant. Marc asked, “How can you be sure?”
    â€œHe called me. I insisted that he take the medical clinic’s sat phone, in case his truck broke down.”
    The village was a cluster of huts blanketed by cinders. A central open space was flanked by two longer buildings, like meeting halls, or perhaps the residence of a chief. “Tell me what he said.”
    â€œHe had just finished meeting the village elders. Serge called me to say a district chief had shown up. You know this term?”
    â€œLike Philip.”
    â€œNo, Marc Royce. Not like Philip at all. If all the district chiefs were like Philip, this land would be thriving, despite the drought and the volcano.”
    â€œCharles said there was a problem with other regional leaders.”
    â€œCharles knows what he is talking about. Many district chiefs bribe their way into the offices. They come to make money off these poor villages. Serge said that the chief who arrived was very angry that Serge was there, and furious when he heard about the questions Serge was asking.” Her voice was very bleak. “Since then, I have heard