The Relic Read Online Free Page B

threw back his head and laughed. “You know me so well, Mags. But this time I didn’t. It was given to me for safe keeping, then a few months later, the person who owned it died.”
    “Didn’t he have family who could claim it?
    “Not that I know of, and I checked. I was going to give it back to them, but couldn’t find evidence of any. Hence, the place is still mine.”
    A sudden downpour of tropical rain stopped any further conversation as the roar of the wind battered the small jeep. Magda braced her feet firmly on the floor while holding on for dear life with both hands to the bar above. The whining sound of the tires as they slipped on the swelling mud had her doing the sign of the cross inside her head. There was no way she was moving her hands from where they were. They were stuck like glue and keeping her from falling out of the jeep while it precariously continued its climb up the winding track to wherever this bloody hut was.
    The hilly track flattened out and widened, creating a fork in the road. Vincent stopped the jeep, opened the door and stood on the running board, raising his hand to shield the rain from his eyes. He was swearing under his breath so Magda decided against asking for a progress report just yet. Vince obliged her anyway with his swearing.
    “Shit, fuck, shit! Where the bloody hell is this place?”
    She thought about the most logical question to ask, but given his current mood, she hesitated. Should she? Smiling, she braced herself. Yeah, why not! “Want to ask a local for directions?”
    The thunderous look he gave her convinced her that perhaps that question wasn’t such a good idea. But it was funny. Men never changed. Even if they were lost and circling in the desert for days, they still wouldn’t ask for directions, and Vince was no exception.
    It must have been at least fifteen minutes later before Vincent pulled up in front of what could only be described as a dilapidated shack. The door hung half open and the glassless windows were covered with frayed and torn material of dubious origin. As Vincent turned off the engine, a squawking bird flew out from the front door, the high-pitched sound echoing through the valley below.
    Magda shivered, flicking a large spider web out of her face as she followed Vincent inside. “Looks like someone was using the place while you were gone.”
    The place didn’t look too bad actually. A ripped mattress lay in the middle of the floor, its grass stuffing spilling out as evidence of repeated pecking from the feathered visitors. Dust and spider webs covered most other surfaces in the sparsely furnished room. But apart from those minor inconveniences, the walls and roof looked sturdy and the floor didn’t appear to have any holes in it.
    Vincent walked across the room to where a piece of material covered a small door to another room. He pulled aside a moth-eaten curtain, confirming that the smaller room was also empty.
    “At least we can say none of the native locals have been here. From what I saw of them the one time I was here a few years ago, they are a lot more fastidious than this. If they’d been here, the place would at least be swept clean. In fact, there would probably be three families living here.”
    Magda bent down and opened the lid of a chest that sat to one side of the main room. All it contained was a few chipped items of crockery, some more bugs and loads of spider webs. “I find it surprising they didn’t take it over. It’s obviously a solid structure, and the furniture is still here. Most tribes would have burnt it for firewood by now. I wonder why they’ve left it alone?”
    “I’m guessing it might be because Jacko was a scary bastard. He used to keep them from stealing his stuff by spinning all these yarns about spirits and curses and the like. He had a good laugh about it when he told me.”
    “Really? How cruel. He was lucky they didn’t sic the witch doctor on to him.”
    “You’ve been watching too many