The rebel cursed under his breath and dropped the bucket of water hard on the floor causing the pail to almost topple over. Half the brown, muddy water spilled over the sides.
With newfound bravery Charles mockingly saluted him. Unimpressed, the rebel reciprocated by forcibly ejection his saliva in Charles’ face.
Charles fought the urge to sling a long string of unsavory words back at him, but he held back. He needed to keep his wits about him now. He was ahead in the game, and these guys were fully aware but the giant’s eyes told him he’d far rather kill him than find treasure. Charles was kept alive only because he was ordered to do so.
He reminded himself of his mission. He needed to eat and rest to build up his strength enough to endure his escape. He had one chance tomorrow when they all went off looking for Izzy; her phantom at least.
Resolved to escape Charles chose not to react and taunted the rebel by taking a bite of the dough. He will show no fear. It worked and Charles was left alone.
Although the sun already sat quite low, its rays beat down on the bald patch on the back of Charles’ head. If he’d hazard a guess he’d peg the time to be somewhere in the late afternoon. The African sun was generally at its hottest around then. He had no idea how late in the day it was though since they stole his wristwatch along with the rest of his belongings when they captured him.
That watch was his last chance of being found. With any luck, they weren’t smart enough to figure out that it had a built-in GPS tracker. If they haven't switched the tracker off yet, the signal should lead the ground crew straight to him. As long as he was with the rebels, that is, and as long as the ground crew was still alive.
With filthy hands Charles scooped another few sips of water. Most of the sand and grit now lay at the bottom of the bucket. The water still tasted and smelled like stinky feet, but it was water nevertheless and welcoming under the sweltering heat.
Night would fall soon, and the temperature will drop and most likely bring lots of rain. If they left him in his cell, he’d be in for a long wet night. The heat and exhaustion got the better of him, and he passed out. A loud bang brought him back to a conscious state and the sound echoed through the air again. Not quite sure what woke him, Charles sat up and looked around. He noticed the sun was just about to set. Clusters of rebels scattered in all directions running for any form of cover behind their bunkers and the trees. The sound of cocking guns and shouting commands came from everywhere.
It dawned on Charles that they were under attack; most likely a rival group.
Charles lay down flat on the ground. The sharp edges of the rocks pierced his abdomen. He was completely exposed. The giant was nowhere in sight. He was a sitting duck in that cell. One stray bullet was all it took. He thought of lying still and faking his death. More shots fired off in his direction. They were closing in on him.
He looked around. The coastal regions were relatively familiar to him after all the years of exploring, but without being privy to his exact location there was no telling where he was. If he could get the lock open he could choose any direction and just run. He could seize this raid to aid his escape.
Faking and waiting wasn’t an option. He had to break out of there. He picked up a sharp rock and smashed it at the lock. It didn’t budge so he kicked hard into the bamboo poles. The sharp rocks sliced through his other foot sending pangs of pain up his leg. He was too weak to kick through the strong bamboo poles. Another bullet flew over his head. Blood gushed from his injured foot. He’d bleed to death if he didn’t stop it so he ripped his shirt in two and bound both his feet. With some relief he hit a rock against the lock again but stopped when he spotted some of the rebels taking cover behind him. In high alert they sat silently waiting on their pending attackers.
“Hey! Get me out of here!” Charles shouted only to be ignored as more bullets flew past his head.
Keeping an eye on the rebels Charles spotted the giant squatting against the large tree directly behind him.
“Hey! Get me out of here!” He shouted at the giant.
“Get down!” The giant shouted back.
Charles did so just as a series of bullets left the giant’s gun and whisked past his head to three insurgents that had crept up behind Charles. The giant succeeded in killing two of them in an effort to keep Charles alive. He was after all their ticket to a sizable fortune when they found the key.
"Tell me about da key old man! You die today. Where is da key?"
Charles cursed the key. He should have guessed the guy was looking after his own interests. Every archaeologist and relic hunter known to man scoured the coast in the hope of finding the infamous lost city of Rhapta and its treasures.
"Nothing but a fairytale you idiot!" Charles responded.
"I not believe you! Where’s the key, old man? You say NOW!" He pointed his gun at Charles.
"Believe me. I am telling you the truth. We have no proof of a key ever existing!”
“You a liar! There is lots of gold. You have the key. Where is it?” The giant continued relentlessly as another series of bullets left his gun.
“Get me out and I’ll show you!”
"You lie I kill you! This no joke!” The giant warned as he moved towards unlocking the cage but quickly ducked behind the tree again to escape the crossfire.
Charles fell to the ground. He was in their direct line of fire.
“I can’t show you if I’m dead! Get me out of here you idiot!”
The giant knew he was useless dead. Firing several defense shots he sneaked up and stuck his key in the cell door’s lock to free Charles.
”On your feet, white man!" He shouted; challenged to open the lock under pressure.
”Have you gone altogether bonkers? You're going to get us both killed! Give me the keys!“
"Shut up white man! You know nothing. Get up!" Jerking both the cell door open and pulling Charles to his feet with one foul motion.
Before Charles even had the chance to object the giant pulled him behind the tree. The rough act over the sharp stones ripped the makeshift shirt bandages off and sliced fresh cuts into his feet.
"I need shoes. I can't run like this."
"Ah, udhi,” the giant spat at Charles to sod off and looked down at the blood gushing from the soles of Charles’ feet. A dead victim lay on the ground behind a nearby tree. Within seconds he had pulled the corpse closer by his shoulders and removed his shoes.
“Here,” slamming the shoes against Charles’ chest before killing another enemy over his shoulder.
"Hurry white man. Put on dem damn shoes."
He fired off another series of bullets from his AK47 rifle and Charles ducked quickly; dead man's shoes in hand. The thought of putting on a mutilated corpse's shoes chilled him to the bone and he stared at the dead guy with guilt.
"White man! I say, put dem on! He no need dem anymore. We go!" Firing another round before reloading his gun.
Of course he was right. The poor sod was dead, and his feet were bleeding. Charles tightened the bandages and reached over to remove the stiff's socks. The shoes were too big, but it was better than nothing.
Charles jumped up and took cover behind the rebel’s gigantic physique. But seconds later his enormous weight pinned him flat on the ground.
"Hey, Giant shove off!" But he didn’t move and neither could Charles. He felt a thick hot liquid trickle onto his face and down the side of his cheek. It was blood. The bugger got himself shot in the head and had fallen back onto Charles.
Flat out disgusted by a dead man lying on top of him, Charles tried frantically to move out from underneath him. He failed at pushing him off and tried again, but the giant weighed more than a pregnant elephant.
Footsteps approached and Charles stopped. If he lay still under the giant, they might not spot him, so he tucked his head, arms, and body under the giant and waited.
Relieved, his tactic worked and the enemy walked away. This was his chance. He had to move the giant off of him before th
e rebels came looking for him. In his mind, getting him off was a simple case of physics. If he pushed only from one end instead of from the center, he should roll off. In theory at least, but it might just work. It was his only option.
After three solid attempts and with all his remaining strength drained, Charles managed to lift the giant off his body. The welcome sensation of his lungs filling up with air had him gasping and back on his feet under the nearby tree. He surveyed his surroundings with caution.
Most of the rivals had already left, and one by one the rebels were slowly coming out from their hiding spots. Thankfully they hadn’t as much as looked his way. Charles turned and bolted between the trees as fast as his sixty-something injured body could take him.
With night upon him the dark woods were a welcome advantage as he disappeared out of sight into the night.
Chapter Four
Alex
"Aah no worry Pommie. We lost dem far behind. Ol' Jelani da best at shaking danger."
They sped off from the Airport, and Alex glanced at Sam in the rear of the open Jeep. He was still looking back through the trail of dust not entirely convinced by Jelani's overconfident assurance. Sam nervously wrapped his now white knuckles around the bull bar of the vehicle in a futile attempt to stick to the seat and not be flung out around the next corner.
Alex suppressed a giggle as Jelani purposefully flattened his foot on the pedal all the while watching for another reaction from Sam. Sam’s once starched white shirt was left tainted with a red-brown film of African dust kicked up by the back wheels next to him. Alex knew that when Jelani drove a vehicle, one had to hold on for dear life to stay seated. To attempt anything other than holding on was lunacy, much less change into different clothing. The poor sod was in over his head and had no idea how to survive in Africa. He was probably too focused on his dream to meet the famous Professor Hunt, Alex thought.
She closed her eyes for a second, sending up another prayer that her father was okay and still alive.
"He'll be okay Lakicia. Your old man is a warrior, remember? He has always found a way to get out of a sticky situation. We'll find him. I promise."
Jelani still had a knack of knowing the very thing that went on in her head.
"Your intuition has always been as sharp as a knife, my old friend. I suspect precisely the reason why Dad always trusts you to lead the ground team on all his expeditions. Your father's skillful training stands you in good stead."
"I learned from the best Lakicia but I promise you, your father is alive and well."
"I hope you're right Jelani. If he does manage to free himself somehow, he will try to find the village. I guess the question to ask should be whether he would be able to determine how to find it without knowing his exact location.”
Jelani fell quiet for a while. His always-smiling face suddenly turned pensive. Being her childhood friend, he primarily grew up with her parents in the village. Izzy was so hell-bent on finding that stupid key that Tanzania, initially meant to be just another quick expedition, turned out to be more like their long-term home. Jelani’s mother had died of malaria when he was just a toddler; so naturally, they stepped up to the plate and took him in.
“I’m sorry I couldn't protect her Lakicia. She was like my very own mother to me. I would have saved her if I could. I did try to track her but … well, you know what happened. And now I've gone and done the same to your father."
"Oh, Jelani don’t!” Touching his arm.
"None of this was your fault,” she added.
She felt her chest suddenly tighten as the horrific memories of the past and now, her father’s kidnapping flashed through her mind. Jelani’s perplexed look didn’t help and what he said next, troubled her even more.
"Everything happened so quickly. I'm still not sure I quite understand how your father’s kidnappers even found out where we were."
"What do you mean 'you don't understand how they found you’?”
"Just like I said Lakicia. You know, we're always careful with being followed and covering our tracks to the village. We had cattle theft some time back. So my father thought we should rather move the village to a new spot a little bit further down the river. No one knew of our new location. We have watchers in the trees all day and night."
"Yet they attacked?"
"Exactly. We've mastered protecting our villages and have been doing this for decades. Tracing us is nearly impossible.
“I see your point, Jelani. What about access via the river? Could they have come in from the other side perhaps?"
"Not a chance! That's impossible. This river spot is perilous. At the moment the crocs’ breeding ground is in the area so swimming will be a suicide mission. They would have had to use boats, but then we would have seen them. I guess we'll never truly find out the truth. No point now in any case. We can't change what happened. We lost four of our warriors, and your father is still missing.”
Alex tugged at her seatbelt. Feeling the wind through her hair barely satisfied the urgent desire to breathe more air into her lungs. A massive wave of panic sneaked up on her. They took her father and the thought of him lying dead somewhere was devastating. But this affected Jelani too.
"And your father, Jelani? Did he... is he alive?"
"Ah yes of course,” he giggled with a proud smile.
"The Chief is as tough as coconuts. He would never lose a fight. He showed them rebels all right. But unfortunately the fight was long since over and not his to have. They only took your father and left. Almost as if they came just for him and nothing else."
"And Eric? Where was he when all this happened? He took over the phone when Dad tried calling me, and he said they shot him, but then the phone went dead. Is he dead?"
"Shot?" A very surprised Jelani exclaimed.
"Not to my knowledge. Saw him running off with my own two eyes, Lakicia. And the other day in the city, I could have sworn he was buying Rum at the liquor store. I’ve been looking everywhere for him since.”
"Well, we're going to have to find him before they do. He might very well have some idea where they are holding Dad captive. I just hope we locate him before... well before they..."
Alex couldn’t bring herself to even speak the words or think the unthinkable. Losing her Dad the same way she lost her mother was not an option.
A sudden surge of overwhelming anxiety and fear engulfed her. The choking sensation in her throat had her tugging on her shirt collar. Her hands were sweaty and trembled uncontrollably, and her heart pounded in her chest. She reached for her pills inside her jacket, but her pocket was empty. She dug deeper. Still nothing. She crossed over to the other pocket thinking she might have confused the two but this one turned up empty as well. She patted down her pants pockets, and unclipped her seatbelt in an attempt to lift herself off the seat; hoping that the bottle had slipped out onto the seat beneath her.
"Alex? Have you lost your mind? Sit down!"
Alex was vaguely aware of Quinn shouting at her from the backseat.
"Where the hell did you learn to drive, Jelani? For the love of Pete slow down!" Sam yelled out when Jelani hit a pothole and Alex was almost thrown out.
Jelani didn't seem to know the brakes even existed and merely raised his foot off the accelerator.
"Stop, you damn lunatic. Alex will fall out! Hit the brakes!”
Sam’s words were only just spoken when Jelani slammed on the brakes causing the Jeep's rear to slide out sideways and veer off the sandy road. A couple of branches hit Alex through the face as she fell back into the seat. Jelani frantically attempted to adjust the steering wheel into the opposite direction in an effort to gain control of the now out of control car. The vehicle lunged to the other side and lost its grip on the soft sand and then rammed through the bushes before it hit a large thorn tree.
Alex became aware of her body ejecting from her seat before it became buoyant through the air and then thumped down hard onto the ground.
Her head spun and an inten
se pain ensued from somewhere she couldn’t quite make out. Exhaling a deep groan, she managed to sit up. Fresh, warm blood ran down her temple and more trickled down the center of her nose. Her wrist hurt when she pushed herself up from the ground. She struggled keeping her balance and fell back down against the tree.
"Jelani? Quinn? Jelani!" She called out in a voice that didn’t sound like hers. Her eyesight was strained by the blood blurring her vision, so she tried wiping some away with the back of her hand. That didn't help. Instead, she now couldn’t open her eyes at all. She pulled her shirt from around her waist and wiped away the blood.
A very faint moan and a rustle in the nearby shrubs had her squint for better visibility.
"Jelani? Is that you?" She asked still wiping the gushing blood from her eyes.
"Alex... it's me. Are you okay?" Quinn's strained voice came from behind the shrubs.
"Quinn! Yes, no. I'm not sure."
"Hang on; I'm coming.”
She watched as he stumbled to his feet pulling off bits of shrubbery as he made his way to her.
"Bloody hell, Alex! You're bleeding buckets! Stay down."
Seconds later Quinn ripped his sleeves off his fancy shirt and turned them inside out before wrapping it tightly around her head.
"Sit back. We have to stop the bleeding. Try not to move."
"Jelani... where is Jelani?"
They both paused for an instance straining their ears in the hope of hearing Jelani move somewhere but there was nothing but a deadly silence.
"Stay here. I'll go look."
Sam, naturally still dizzy from the crash, walked across to the upside-down Jeep that lay under a nearby tree.
Alex willed her thoughts into Jelani still being alive. Without him and the sheltering safety of his village, they’d be vulnerable to the rebels and all sorts of prey. It wouldn’t be long at all before they’d be captured; or dead.
The screeching noise of steel against steel followed by a muffled bang had her look up towards the wreckage. Her sight was completely blurred. Dependent only on her hearing she turned her head and detected another muted unidentifiable sound coming from somewhere behind her.
The Alex Hunt Series Page 4