It was a forsaken place. Ten miles of scrub and baked grit between us and the nearest city, a scouring wind that carried nothing but silence. A stack of weathered concrete blocks had been dumped by the roadside, their hollows a haven for scorpions and vipers.
‘What do you think?’ Sol rested a boot on one of the blocks, slapped dust from his trousers. ‘Got some of the materials already. From the previous build, you know.’ He stared out over the site, hat flapping in his hand.
A heat haze of desperation rose off him. He stank of it. I would never have got the call if he hadn’t tried every other option first, not with our shared history.
He flashed me a grin, that might once have charmed, but I now saw it for what it was – flash.
I shrugged. ‘Nothing for me here,’ I said.