by Tony Park
‘Sheesh, Banger will want to moer those guys who did all this to you,’ he said of the white-haired man and the other terrorists.
‘He’s not even picking up my calls right now. Is he out on a job?’
‘We haven’t had any call-outs today,’ John said as he drove the short distance to Nia’s apartment block. ‘Want me to come up with you? I could make tea, or chicken soup.’
‘I’ll be fine.’ She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. ‘Thank you, John, you’re a real friend.’
‘Only a pleasure. Call me if you need anything. It’s no trouble at all.’
‘Will do.’
Nia got out of the Ford and went into the building. She took the lift to her floor and the musty, salt-air smell from the carpet was comforting for a change, rather than annoying. It was good to be home. As much as she cared about the fate of the missing kids and the general state of mayhem that had descended on her homeland, right now she needed to lie down, and maybe have a mojito if she could be bothered fixing one. Perhaps a straight vodka would be better.
The lift doors opened and Nia went to her door. As she put her key in the lock she heard a noise, like someone yelling. She wondered if Banger was home and had the television on. But if he was, why hadn’t he answered her call?
Nia opened the door and walked in. The balcony sliding doors were open, filling the lounge room with sunlight and a balmy, salty Indian Ocean breeze. Banger’s blue uniform trousers and his gun belt were on the floor. That wasn’t unusual; she was always picking up after him.
But then she heard the noise again.
Nia felt her chest tighten, but smiled as another explanation came to mind. She went to the master bedroom, hoping she’d catch him sitting in bed with the laptop on, watching porn. As she came to the doorway she saw a flash of movement. It was a reflection in the full-length mirror.
Framed in the glass were the wide eyes of a dark-haired girl on the bed. The girl was bouncing up and down on a naked Banger, facing away from him, towards the mirror. He had his hands on her hips and was thrusting and grunting. The girl screamed and said something in a language other than English, Italian perhaps.
‘What, babe?’ Banger said to the girl.
Nia walked into the room, stepping over a shirt, and, peeking around the girl, her boyfriend saw her in the mirror. The girl jumped off him and off the bed. She scrambled on the carpet, snatching up the pieces of her bikini and a wrap. Banger grabbed a sheet and held it up. Nia processed the scene. She felt goosebumps cover her body, her blood suddenly ice cold.
‘Get out.’
He held a free hand out to her. ‘Babe, I can explain. I’m sorry. It meant nothing.’
‘Don’t you dare call me “babe”.’
The girl spat something in Italian and Nia stepped aside as the other woman brushed past her, muttering something more as she tied on her bikini top. Nia heard the door slam behind her.
‘Nia –’
‘Shut up. Get out.’
‘No, wait. I don’t want that, I –’
‘I don’t care what you want.’ She turned and walked back into the lounge, stopping to pick up the shirt and then his trousers and underpants. She went out onto the balcony and, feeling the weight of the utility belt and thinking about passers-by on the promenade that ran along Umhlanga Rocks beach, she took his nine-millimetre pistol from its holster and slipped it into one of the zippered pockets of her flight suit.
‘No,’ she heard Banger say behind her. ‘Be reasonable. Let’s talk.’
There was nothing to talk about. She threw his clothes over the railing and they fluttered as they fell.
She turned and walked past him into the bedroom. She opened the drawer that was his, took his remaining clothes in her arms and marched back into the lounge room.
‘Don’t be silly.’ He reached for her.
‘Touch me and I’ll call the police.’ He backed away from her and she went outside and threw the rest of his clothes into space. ‘Get out,’ she said again without looking at him.
‘Nia, please …’
‘Out.’
She did look back as she heard the door open, and saw that he had grabbed a towel to cover himself. He closed the door behind him.
Nia sat down on the couch and put her head in her hands. She wondered if Banger had also been having sex with this slut yesterday, when she needed him and couldn’t get hold of him. The thought made her sick. Her phone rang.
‘Yes.’
‘Nia, howzit, it’s Mike Dunn. How are you?’
How am I? ‘What do you want?’ She realised she sounded rude but didn’t much care.
‘I wanted to make sure you were all right.’
Nia swallowed hard and felt her lower lip start to tremble. She’d nearly been killed by a maniac and had crashed her own helicopter to try and kill her passenger. And Banger had fucked another woman in their bed. ‘All right?’
‘Yes. Are you still at the hospital? I was worried about you.’
She felt the tears stinging the corners of her eyes and wiped them away. ‘I’m … I’m fine.’
‘You don’t sound it.’
She sniffed. Damn Banger. ‘I’m all right. I’m out of hospital. What’s happening up in the park? Have they found the kids?’
‘No. That’s partly why I’m calling. The Americans have arrived, in force, and they’re flying all over the place in another military chopper trying to find the kids and the bad guys, but they don’t know where to look. There were reports of Suzanne Fessey and two men heading to Hilltop, but they haven’t been found.’
Nia thought about going to Virginia and signing out another helicopter, though she hadn’t even thought about how she would tell her boss that she’d deliberately crashed the Robinson. Also, their other chopper would be on standby for car tracking, or out on a job. ‘The parks people will have their airspace tightly controlled. Plus, the Americans might just shoot me out of the sky.’
‘I wasn’t thinking about you flying up here.’
‘What, then?’
‘I don’t know who else I can turn to right now, or who else I could bring up to speed in a hurry about what’s going on up here.’
Nia felt lethargic from shock, exhaustion and the couple of painkillers she’d taken. However, when she looked around her empty flat she decided she would rather be anywhere else than here right now. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I need someone to pick up my Land Rover from Suzanne Fessey’s house.’
Nia sighed. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s all right,’ he replied quickly. ‘I’ll find someone else. I know you must be hurting.’
His words, not at all meant to be unkind, scratched her. ‘I’m not fucking hurting.’
‘Hey, sorry.’
‘Where’s your vehicle?’
He explained where Fessey’s house was and Nia felt hatred for the woman, criminal or terrorist or whatever she was, who had set them all on this deadly course. In her mind’s eye she saw the burning, twisted carcass of the Sea Hawk again, the dead crew members. Her country was in a virtual state of war and she was angry. But the worry she felt for those three children was even greater. She wanted to finish this business as much as Mike did.
‘I left the keys in the exhaust pipe when the Americans took me away to their chopper. Also, the Americans – CIA, FBI, Secret Service, whoever’s running the operation now – want to talk to you and your friend the security guy. They need you to look at mug shots of terrorists.’
‘I don’t know where he is.’
‘Well, what’s his phone number? I’ll pass it on to them.’
She didn’t want to think about Banger. ‘I’ll go get your truck. See you in a few hours.’ She ended the call and went out.
*
Themba leaned out of the ca
ravan’s broken window and looked for road signs. The Discovery slowed and started to turn to the right. Themba saw an Engen garage with a Wimpy on the corner. He leaned back inside. ‘We’ve turned off the N2 to Mkhuze.’
‘They’re going to stay in the town, do you think?’ Lerato asked.
‘Nothing much here,’ he replied. ‘They’re old, white and have a caravan. I think they’re going to the Mkhuze Game Reserve. It’s one of the few in this area that has camping sites. The other is Ithala, and their camping ground is at the end of a rough four-by-four trail.’
‘You know a lot about national parks.’
He sat down on the bed and retrieved the last of the sandwich he had made on the move, from the caravan’s cupboards and fridge. ‘It was going to be my life.’
She reached out and put a hand on his. ‘It still can be.’
He doubted it, but let it drop. ‘Thanks for being brave,’ he said to her.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t feel brave. I just want to be home and I want to know if my dad is all right. It’s really weird that he hasn’t called me.’ Lerato had tried to reach her father several more times, but to no avail.
He squeezed her hand now. ‘I’ll make sure I get you back to him safely. It’s been crazy these last couple of days. He could have been caught up in a police roadblock or something.’
‘Can we give ourselves up when we get to Mkhuze?’
‘We have to. We’ll be clear of the people following us by then.’ Themba had kept watch all the way from Hilltop and there had been no sign of the blue Polo so far.
She took his hand again. ‘Good, I’m pleased.’
The van slewed as they rolled through bends and over a series of hills. Dust ballooned up from the gravel road and in through the broken window, making them cough. Lerato did her best to cover the child’s face. It was late afternoon, turning to early evening and getting cold so she wrapped him around her front and zipped the fleece jacket she had taken from the Fortuner up over his little body. She looked out the window.
‘The houses look poor here.’
‘There’s not a lot of employment here and there is a problem with people sneaking into the national park and setting snares to catch bush meat. They see the park as a source of income for others – for the government – but they feel they don’t get enough from living near it.’
‘How do you know all this stuff?’ she asked.
‘I learned about it on my rhino guard course. The parks board is trying to find more ways for people to benefit from living near wildlife.’
‘How is that possible?’
‘I was going to be proof of it, until all this happened,’ he said.
Abruptly, the dust settled and the road became smoother.
‘We’re inside the park now, through the perimeter gate,’ Themba said.
Lerato’s eyes widened. ‘Serious? They leave the road as gravel on the outside and tar it inside the park? No wonder the local people are resentful.’
‘Yes. We will be at the boom gate soon, where the people will pay entrance fees, and the camping ground is next to that. We must be ready to move.’
‘Why don’t we give ourselves up at the gate?’
It was a good question, he had to admit, but something inside him was not sure about surrendering just yet. He thought up an answer. ‘There will only be a junior person there; they will not know what to do with us. We could be there for hours and there will be nowhere to feed or change the baby, or for us to sleep if we are stuck here tonight.’
‘Then we will turn ourselves in at the camping ground, right, Themba?’
‘Yes. Let the old people get in first and we will sneak out of the van and find someone quietly. This couple have been through too much today.’
‘So have we!’
They waited with their packs by the rear window of the van, ready to jump out in case some nosy security guard, alerted by the day’s events, decided to search inside. As it was, they moved through uneventfully after a few minutes.
Themba felt Lerato’s body pressed closed to him in the dark as they pulled into the camping ground. Once inside, the elderly couple did a couple of circuits of the camp, looking for a good spot to park. ‘Get ready,’ he whispered.
‘But we’re surrendering.’
‘Just in case.’
Finally, the Discovery stopped. All that was left of the sun was a red glow through the dust in the western sky – the couple had only just made the dusk curfew.
As the car stopped Themba opened the caravan door. He didn’t want the couple to see them; if he was going to give himself up it would be to a national parks official. He stepped down and motioned for Lerato to follow. At that second the passenger’s side door of the Discovery opened and the elderly woman alighted. She pointed and said something that Themba didn’t catch, then he noticed she was gesturing to the ablutions block. She took a few quick steps away then turned back when her husband called out something to her. As she turned her head she saw Themba and screamed.
He put his hands up. ‘It’s all right.’
The woman, though, leapt back into the cab of the four-by-four.
‘Quickly,’ Themba said to Lerato, who stepped down.
Themba walked slowly towards the car. As he did so he heard the engine start again. The woman’s hand appeared out of the passenger side window and in it was a small-calibre pistol. She should have declared it at the boom gate and had it secured in a sealed security bag but no doubt after the day’s events the couple probably wanted to have their handgun handy.
‘No!’ he yelled.
The car and caravan pulled away just as Lerato’s feet hit the ground. There was the crack of a gunshot as the woman fired blindly, pointing backwards, and Lerato screamed.
‘Run,’ Themba said. He ushered Lerato and the baby in front of him and ran after them towards the tree line at the edge of the camp. He heard two more shots behind him and felt a bullet whiz past his left ear. He tensed as he ran, waiting for the impact, and a small part of his mind wondered what it would be like. At least he was between the woman with the gun and Lerato.
When they reached the trees Themba paused. The shooting had stopped and the engine noise from the vehicle was fading as the couple drove back out the gate of the camping ground.
‘Oh God, Themba, what will we do now? Everyone’s trying to kill us! Why did she have to shoot at us?’
Themba caught his breath. ‘Think what they saw today, what they went through. There were people shooting at them as well as us. They must have thought we were those same people.’
The camping ground was empty; it was outside school holidays. They walked around the stands and Lerato took the baby into the ablutions block and gave him a bath and changed him as best she could.
Themba stuck his head through the door of the ladies’ room. ‘Have a shower, if you like. You can leave the baby with me.’
‘Thanks, I think I will. I feel awful,’ Lerato said. She brought the baby, freshly clean and smelling of hand soap, and passed it to Themba.
He sat on the stoep, waiting for someone to come. If there was an attendant working at the camping ground then he or she hadn’t come looking for them. Perhaps, he mused, they had run at the sound of gunfire, or hitched a lift with the elderly couple.
Themba nursed the infant, enjoying its warmth against his chest. He, too, needed a wash. He wondered who would come, armed parks rangers or police. Themba shivered; it could be the blonde woman and her male accomplices who showed up first.
Carrying the baby, he went for a walk and found an information board with a map of Mkhuze Game Reserve pinned to it behind glass. He had been here before, but he didn’t know the park intimately. Putting the baby down on the grass, he looked around for a rock, found one, and hefted it. Funny, he thought, how he had transitioned from a one-time car thief to someone
who now felt as if he was committing a mortal sin by breaking a window to steal a map that might save his life and the lives of two innocents. He smashed the glass and took down the map.
Mkhuze was home to some dangerous species of wildlife, including the elusive leopard and the irascible black rhino. Also, the bush here was different from where they had just been, in the Hluhluwe–iMfolozi Park. There it was open grassland sliced with deep, dark, dangerous river valley. Here in Mkhuze, however, the red soil nourished thick, dense undergrowth. The black rhino loved these thickets of thorn and the leopard had plenty of trees in which to hoist its kills at night and savour cool breezes by day.
Keeping a watchful eye on the baby, Themba scanned the map. The other distinctive feature of Mkhuze was its plethora of hides, well-constructed viewing areas overlooking waterholes and the big Nsumo Pan. These would be good places to hole up overnight and they would be safe, dry and relatively warm. They would have to be out before first light, though, when early-rising tourists or an attendant might arrive to view game or clean up.
Themba heard a car’s engine and saw the sweep of headlights coming up the access road to the camping ground. He stood, scooping up the baby, and darted into the ladies’ room.
Lerato was out of the shower and doing up her blouse. ‘Themba!’ She turned her back to him.
‘Sorry, but there’s someone coming. We need to get out of here.’
‘Just let me get dressed.’
‘No, I mean, hurry. Grab your clothes.’
She snatched up her things, clearly annoyed, and followed him out. The baby had fallen asleep. Hefting him up on one hip, Themba took Lerato’s hand and ran back to the trees where they had been hiding. Looking back, Themba saw it was not one vehicle but two, a black, low-slung sedan followed by a national parks bakkie. In the back of the truck were four armed rangers.
The sedan stopped and a door opened. A man got out, but Themba couldn’t see him clearly as he was silhouetted in the headlights.
The rangers jumped down out of their truck and fanned out, looking around them. A man in a national parks uniform got out of the front of the truck and joined the first man in front of his sedan.