Dangerous Complacency

The Jerusalem King David Hotel: Jo and Jamie were overawed by the size and grandeur of the old place, but by now they were getting used to being thoroughly spoiled. Again they’d been collected at the airport, delivered to their hotel and escorted to their suite… and again there was the champagne. From their windows they had a magnificent view down over the Old City. It was barely mid-day, the sun was comfortably hot and Jo was agitating to go for a walkabout. Jamie had his eye on the champagne but decided that could wait until later. Jamie and Jo loved historic places; Jamie mused that unfortunately too much of the history of Old Jerusalem was violent... and that sadly nothing had changed. They spent over an hour wandering through the small streets and alleys, all bustling with activity, and chatting to stall-holders eager to sell them something… anything. As they emerged into a beautiful old square full of mature, shady trees they decided to relax for a while in one of the many pavement cafés, all of which seemed to be doing good business. Jo found one with two empty chairs, but as she made to sit down she was rudely pushed aside by an overdressed, overweight woman who claimed the table for herself and her equally fat friend. Jo recognized the language as the woman brusquely summoned a waiter. She shrugged; she’d been warned that the Israelis weren’t renowned for their good manners. As she was suffering a bit from the heat a cold drink indoors would suit her fine – and she needed to go to the toilet. The café interior was comfortably air conditioned. They were shown to a table, both ordered soft drinks… but both needed to check out the facilities. They were directed to the toilets which were through an exit at the rear of the café. Through the door was a corridor. As Jo disappeared into the ladies, and as Jamie moved towards the gents his world exploded. Some massive force picked him up bodily, threw him the length of the corridor and slammed him onto, and through the end wall of the passageway. He felt as if all the air had been sucked from his lungs, and as he lay winded he was engulfed by a cloud of smoke and dust which filled his first desperate breath. As he lay frantically trying to breathe he was aware of someone at his side: it was Jo. As she knelt close to him he could see her horrified, tortured expression, he could see her lips moving but he could hear nothing. He had no breath to speak but he gave her the universal diver’s signal that he was all right, gestured to her to give him a few moments, grasped her hand and forced himself to relax. As the smoke and dust began to clear he finally managed to breathe regularly without coughing. His head was spinning and his ears were ringing but he slowly took in his surroundings: he had taken a short-cut to the gents; he was on a tiled floor and above him was a urinal. He moved his head, tested his arms and legs: everything was fine and he slowly managed to struggle to his feet reassuring Jo that he was OK, but pointed to his ears and told her he’d been deafened. Jo helped him through the shattered wooden partition which Jamie recognized as having saved him by absorbing the force of his impact. Had the wall been of brick he’d probably have been killed… or at the very least seriously injured. As they made their way along the corridor their feet crunched on a carpet of broken glass. Jamie recoiled as he stood on something soft: it was a human hand. The café was a scene of total carnage: there were bodies, or parts of bodies strewn around, all seemed to have been be shredded by the glass blasted from the window: all were beyond help. The tiled floor was awash with their blood which stuck sickeningly to shoes as they made their way out to the street. Dante would have struggled to describe the scene before them as they stepped onto the pavement. A few yards along the road stood the blazing carcass of a vehicle and around it there was total devastation: a tangle of mangled, burning cars, limp bodies still inside or hanging grotesquely out of shattered windows; the air was full of the sickly-sweet smell of burning flesh. Bodies were everywhere, many were naked, some headless; there were torn, dis-articulated torsos and intestines spread over the cobbles. Body parts, some identifiable, some not, were scattered around; dripping gobbets of flesh hung from the branches of trees stripped of their leaves by the force of the massive explosion. But there were survivors; already people were rushing to help the injured and dying. Jamie’s hearing was slowly returning; he could vaguely detect the cries of the wounded and the sound of wailing sirens as the emergency services began to arrive. Both wanted to help; neither was injured, and both had had advanced training in first aid. Jo urged Jamie to get moving and ran to a man lying on his back on the street. He was clutching his abdomen and moaning pitifully. As she knelt beside him he turned has head, looked at her pleadingly and made to say something, but he gagged as his mouth filled with blood, and as he took his bloody hand in hers he gave a final desperate gasp, his grip weakened and he lay still. Jo laid his dead hands across his chest and rushed over to an injured child who was screaming as she clung to the body of her dead mother.