The information quietened Fletch considerably.
Felicity found herself next to Sean. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Been better.’
‘Any double vision?’
‘Just a lump and a bit of a cut. The headache’s nearly gone.’
‘You were lucky compared with Matt.’
‘I know. He seems pretty bad.’
Felicity fell silent, choosing her next words carefully. Under normal circumstances she’d have said nothing but their current predicament was far from that. ‘I know this is none of my business,’ she said finally, ‘but I’ll say it anyway. We’re all scared and would welcome someone looking out for us. However, there are a few here in more need than others. Jutta has her father. Gayle is on her own, at least for now. And so is Thea.’
‘I know.’
‘Will you keep an eye on her? Thea, I mean.’
Sean glanced briefly at the poet. ‘Of course.’
‘Good.’ Felicity pointed her chin towards Billy who was walking further in front. ‘Because it doesn’t look as if he will.’
‘Billy’s only ever taken care of himself. No doubt he’ll continue to do so. Don’t worry, I’ll be there for Thea.’
‘I rather thought you would be, just wanted to be sure.’
‘How about you?’
Felicity shook her head. ‘I’ll be fine. Tough as old boots, that’s me.’
‘No-one’s fine,’ Sean said tightly. ‘We’re in a lot of trouble.’
‘I know. I was just . . .’ Her voice tailed to a whisper.
‘Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I’m just worried that no-one will know about this for several days. By then, God knows where we’ll be. The more time these bastards have, the better their chance of getting away.’
‘Maybe someone will . . .’ Again she couldn’t finish.
‘Don’t count on it. No more guests were expected at the lodge. The first chance we have of the alarm being raised is if the vet returns tomorrow. By the time anyone’s worked out what might have happened to us . . . Well, it’s a long time,’ he finished lamely, aware that his words were not helping.
Felicity took a deep breath. ‘It seems unreal. Those people back there.’ She was close to tears. ‘How could this happen in a place like Logans?’ she burst out.
Sean glanced around but their captors seemed unworried by their conversation. ‘It’s happening all over the world,’ he said finally.
‘That’s supposed to make me feel better?’ Felicity slapped at a fly. Shut up, you stupid woman. Self-pity will get you nowhere. She brushed her eyes impatiently. ‘Look, can we change the subject? There’s something I need to tell you. I don’t know why, I just do. It’s about Thea. You too, unless I miss my guess. Like I said, it’s none of my business, I don’t know any of you from a bar of soap. I’m putting this badly and I’m sorry about that. It’s just that most of you seem to get along pretty well. That must be hard sometimes, especially when personal issues crop up. You all get thrown together a lot.’
Sean’s silence said he didn’t need anybody prying into his private life.
Felicity persisted. ‘Give me a break. I’m creeping up on something here. There’s a reason.’ She hesitated. ‘My marriage broke up too. The first thing that hits you is a fear of being alone. I just wanted to tell you that.’
‘She will never be alone. Not while I’m alive.’
‘Can’t have been easy. Feeling the way you do and not being able to do anything about it. I hope everything works out. Her husband’s a real cold fish. Anyway, the thing is . . . oh shit, I’ll just have to say it and be done with it. Thea seems to be holding up quite well but don’t be fooled. That’s all.’
‘Mmmm.’
He was not going to be drawn further so Felicity left it.
Billy Abbott was, predictably, thinking only of himself. He resented the way the others assumed he would carry one of the heavy packs. I’m the manager, he told himself. I shouldn’t have to do it. When Philip approached him and said, ‘Would you spell one of the stretcher carriers in about ten minutes? It’s hard work. We should take fifteen minutes each and then let someone else take over,’ Billy’s first reaction was to refuse.
‘Why should I? I’m already lugging this lot.’ He indicated the pack.
Philip’s voice hardened. ‘In case it’s escaped your attention, you’re not the only one. Eight of us are. Walter has his hands full with Jutta. Besides, he’s not fit. Sean is injured but insisted on taking his turn. We can’t expect the women to carry Matt, although Caitlin has already offered. Like it or not, you’ll go next.’
‘A pity someone else is not on the stretcher,’ Billy said spitefully.
Philip assumed he was talking about Sean. ‘We’re all in one hell of a fix. Put your personal feelings aside and pull some bloody weight.’
‘If there’s one thing I can’t stand,’ Billy said coldly, ‘it’s a self-appointed leader.’
Philip let his comment go. He dropped back to walk with Felicity and Sean. ‘Nice man, your lodge manager.’
Sean pulled a face. ‘Falling over himself to be helpful, was he?’
‘Something like that.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘He’ll do his share,’ Philip said with quiet determination. ‘I’ll make damned sure of it.’
They were walking over dune veld. Grass had found purchase in the fine, soft sand but the walking was difficult. Ace kept the pace fairly fast. His men had no trouble with that even though some seemed to be weighed down more heavily than any of their male captives. The students were young and fit, although Angela’s progress was often erratic. While the others all seemed to be managing, Walter Schmidt was struggling. He had a heart condition, due mainly to being overweight though not helped by high blood pressure. Numb with grief yet determined to protect Jutta, Walter could concentrate only on putting one foot in front of the other. His breathing had become ragged, he had a stitch and his legs ached. Gayle, who kept trim at regular gym sessions, was beginning to realise that having no excess flab did not mean she was fit. Nor did it mean she was tough. Her horribly expensive designer running shoes had rubbed blisters on both heels. She was drained of liquid, out of breath and one knee, injured years ago when she’d insisted on performing her own stunts, threatened to collapse.
Whether they were coping or not, everyone was more than relieved when Ace finally called a halt.
‘Ten-minute rest,’ Chester translated. Again he asked for water and again, it was refused.
No-one had enough medical knowledge to realise that the makeshift stretcher was actually causing Matt harm. The blow to his temple had resulted in blood escaping into brain tissues. This was having the same effect as a stroke or cerebral haemorrhage. In hospital, Matt would have been put on a drip, his fluid intake and electrolyte balance constantly monitored and carefully adjusted. He should have been kept perfectly still, lying in the correct position to minimise the risk of nerves compressing, causing almost certain paralysis. The stretcher, hastily adapted from a hammock, and the fact that Matt was strapped into it, meant that he lay in such a way that pressure was slowly squeezing the life out of nerves. And not only in one part of his body. Each time the stretcher tilted, more damage was done. Had he been conscious, the others might have noticed Matt’s speech becoming slurred, his motor skills progressively less and less pronounced. They would certainly have seen that one pupil was dilated. It was only when they laid the stretcher down and saw that the actor had wet himself, that any of them knew something was seriously wrong.
‘Mattie!’ Gayle wept.
Ace walked over to where Matt lay and looked down at his pale face. He’d seen death many times. This one was on the way out. He shrugged and left. There was still the actress. If the sick man slowed them down they could leave him. No point in wasting a bullet if he wasn’t going anywhere. In the meantime, for as long as the Englishman stayed alive, carrying him would sap energy. It would make the others mor
e docile.
The soldiers were snacking on food taken from the lodge. Not from the hostages’ backpacks but from their own. It made sense to lighten what they carried first. Nothing was offered to the captives.
James found himself sitting next to Chester and Kalila. He’d been on stretcher duty before the rest period was called and it had taken its toll. Never a very strong man, it took the American a good five minutes to get his breathing under control. Careful nobody was watching, he whispered to Chester, ‘I think my friend might have escaped.’
Chester suspected that the true relationship went further than friendship. James deserved to know the truth. ‘He didn’t.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘For some reason, they killed him.’
‘How do you know?’ James was helpless to prevent tears welling in his eyes.
‘I overheard one of them saying something about him not coming with us.’
James buried his face in his hands.
‘I’m sorry,’ Chester said quietly. ‘You had to be told.’
The stricken man looked up, tears running down his face. ‘I loved him.’
Chester nodded. ‘I thought so.’
‘Oh God!’ James choked. ‘I loved him so much.’
As much sympathy as he might have felt, Chester could not prevent a rising feeling of disgust. During his years with UNITA he’d seen relationships develop between men stuck in the bush for months on end. He’d also witnessed an almost casual indifference to whether the victim was male or female in the raping frenzy which usually accompanied a successful engagement against government troops and their inevitable camp followers. That was one thing. Sex was sex. In difficult conditions you took it when you could. But to deliberately choose a same sex partner when you lived in a so-called civilised city, that was something else.
Chester had been regarded as something of an oddity, never joining in when his men went on a sexual rampage. He accepted that mindless violence was a by-product of ignorance and knew he could do nothing to prevent it. In the adrenalin-charged aftermath of action, the simple mind inevitably sought release. It was a factor that turned normally heterosexual men to unnatural relationships or, as someone once crudely commented, ‘A hole is a hole.’ Not Chester, though. Even lengthy periods of time on active duty deep in the bush never tempted him to cross the sexual line. The distraught man next to him now felt as alien as a Martian to Chester. He found it impossible to understand his pain.
James was whispering to himself. ‘I came out, Blackie. I came out. Oh my God, if only you’d been here to hear it.’ Grief settled like a cloak, blocking out thought of everything else. He knew only one thing. His father could go to hell. The last thing he could do for Mal would be to honour his memory with the truth.
When they set off again, Dan deliberately placed himself next to Gayle. Like everyone else, he was worried about Matt’s condition. ‘I’ll walk with you.’
The actress shot him a grateful look and took his arm. ‘He defended me. He’s hurt because of me. I’ll never forgive myself.’
‘You weren’t to know.’
‘I should have. Matt knew. He told me to be quiet and do as I was told but no, I had to open my big bloody mouth.’ She took a shuddering breath. ‘He’ll be okay, don’t you think?’
Dan couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth. Nor did he wish to deceive her. ‘Let’s hope so, Gayle.’
‘He’s such a sweet person. He really does love me. I never knew that.’
Dan grabbed the conversational opening. ‘And you? Do you love him?’
Gayle fell silent. Dan began to think she wasn’t going to answer. He waited. She was searching inside herself for honesty and finally said, ‘Can a woman my age sincerely love someone his? Isn’t it more likely to be a need for flattery? Or vanity? I don’t know. All I ever wanted was to look good. Matt isn’t my first younger man. The older I became, the younger they got. I never stopped to think that any might actually have been genuine.’ She sighed. ‘My God, reality is a bitter pill to swallow. What a selfish bitch I’ve become. How did I get this way?’
‘It’s understandable,’ Dan murmured soothingly. ‘You’ve spent a long time as the centre of attention. I imagine Gayle Gaynor only has to raise an eyebrow and people fall over themselves to please you. That kind of thing has to rub off.’
‘You’re trying to make me feel better.’
‘Maybe.’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know what I feel. I’ve always shut people out. It’s become standard practice. Whatever you do, don’t let anyone close. Don’t give them a lever to use against you.’ Gayle bit her lip. ‘The film industry is full of superficial people. It gets to a stage where you think their behaviour is perfectly normal. You don’t even realise that what you hate most in others is a reflection of yourself. Matt knows. He’s managed to keep his feet on the ground. But look at me. How does he put up with what I am?’ Gayle shook her head. ‘Christ, so much for soul-searching. I hate it.’
‘How long have you and Matt been an item?’
‘About eighteen months. We’ve lived together for more than a year.’
‘That’s a long time. And you’ve managed to keep him shut out?’
Gayle glanced down at Matt’s near lifeless face. Tears fell again. ‘I think he knows me better than most if that’s any kind of an answer.’
Dan patted her hand. His heart knew the pain she would have to suffer. Whether Gayle admitted it to herself or not, if after eighteen months the relationship remained good, love or at least affection would have to be strong. He suspected that when she finally had to confront life without Matt there’d be a lot of unwelcome self-examination to go with it. No point in forcing her to do it now. Dan changed the subject. ‘You’re limping. What’s wrong?’
‘Sore knee, it’s an old injury, must have twisted it somehow. And these damned shoes have rubbed blisters.’
‘Let me have a look at them when we stop. It might be possible to split the backs. That would ease the pressure.’
‘Sacrilege! The designer would have a fit,’ Gayle said, showing a flash of spirit.
Dan just grunted.
‘How are you doing?’ Sean asked Thea. Her face was pale but she seemed to be walking easily enough and breathing smoothly.
‘Can’t complain. You? You lost quite a bit of blood.’
‘Head wounds always bleed worse than anywhere else. It’s not as bad as it looks.’
‘Come here.’ Thea took a handkerchief from her pocket, spat on it and wiped the dried blood from his forehead. ‘Cat wash.’ She smiled a little. ‘Let me see the damage.’
He obediently bent forward, allowing her to examine the wound. Not looking where she was going, Thea stumbled sideways over a tuft of grass. Sean’s hands quickly steadied her and, for a moment, their eyes locked. Then she looked away. ‘Where do you think they’re taking us, Sean?’
‘Angola.’
‘Then what?’
‘They’ll demand a ransom in exchange for our release.’
‘Will they let us go if it’s paid?’
‘I don’t know.’
Thea took a deep breath. ‘I’m so scared.’
‘I know you are. Everyone is.’
‘You don’t understand. I’ve started to bleed. I’m losing the baby.’
Sean’s heart sank. What else could go wrong? When his older sister miscarried about a year ago it had taken several weeks before her body and mind returned to normal. He seemed to recall their mother saying, ‘Bed and a few days’ rest is what’s needed.’ If Thea lost her baby out here in the bush there’d be no chance of that. What would it do to her? Could she bleed to death? Strength, not fear, came through in his quiet voice. ‘Stay close to me. I’ll help however I can.’
‘Thank you.’
But Sean was desperately worried. It wasn’t only the state of Thea’s health that concerned him. Their situation raised a very real possibility that some, if not all, of the women would
be subjected to the most horrific sexual abuse. What if Thea were raped? These men wouldn’t spare a thought for her condition. Oh Jesus! Sean thought. She’d be better off dead. They all would.
Ace kept them walking until just before dusk. He allowed only one more rest period and no-one was offered food or water. Matt’s breathing had become extremely laboured, his cheeks and mouth puffing with each outward breath. His colour had turned from an unhealthy grey to sallow yellow. He had not regained consciousness.
They stopped for the night near one of two main tributaries which, during the rainy season, contributed to the pan’s temporary water level. The Ekuma River rarely flooded. Its wide sandy bed with flat grassy banks was an ideal site. Recent rains had left several shallow pools. The soldiers drank from them but Dan warned the others against it. ‘Wash if you must but avoid any cuts. I know it’s fresh water but we’re very close to the pan. Anthrax bacteria could easily be present.’
The terrorists appeared relaxed about the hostages helping each other. Sean asked Felicity to assist him with Thea. She was losing a worrying amount of blood. For the past two hours there had also been increasingly painful cramps. Sean needed to clean her up. Not so much for comfort, although that was obviously of concern, but he worried about predators. If there were any in the area, they’d pick up her blood scent with no difficulty.
Followed by one soldier, Sean and Felicity helped Thea to the edge of one of the shallow pools. The spoor around it said zebra and wildebeest. Not too many at that. No sign of large cats. ‘We’ve got to wash her jeans and shoes. They’re sodden with blood. I’ll do it,’ Felicity said. ‘You screen her from that man.’
Thea gasped as another cramp took hold.
‘Could it be a labour pain?’ Sean asked.
Felicity looked worried. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Isn’t there anything we can do?’
She shook her head helplessly. ‘I don’t know. She certainly shouldn’t be walking.’
‘I need the toilet,’ Thea gritted. Rolling waves of pain took away any embarrassment. She was in trouble and needed help, unaware that the desire to defecate had been caused by the foetus in the process of aborting.
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