by Chris Ryan
Instantly the man in the middle started to raise the Kalashnikov that was resting on his lap. 'Tell him to put it down or I'll shoot,' Ben screamed.
Suliman shouted at his man in Kikongo, and he abruptly dropped the rifle. The driver looked nervously at Suliman, maintaining his speed and waiting for his instructions.
'Halima.' Ben spoke without turning his head to look at her. 'If he tells the driver to do anything except stop the car, tell me.'
Suliman's eyes narrowed, and he spoke shortly to the driver, who instantly slammed on the brakes. Everyone in the truck jolted violently forwards as the vehicle skidded through a right angle; Ben found himself hurtling forwards and to the side, his gun arm slipping past Suliman's head and into the space between Suliman and the man in the middle. Instantly Suliman's hand flew up and grabbed Ben's arm firmly.
Bang! The shock of his touch made Ben squeeze the trigger, and a deafening sound numbed their eardrums as the bullet ripped into the dashboard. But Suliman kept his grasp, squeezing hard and painfully while his accomplice slowly peeled Ben's struggling fingers from around the gun grip. The man caught it before it fell to the floor.
By now the vehicle was at a standstill, but pointing towards the side of the road. Suliman spoke briefly to the man sitting next to him, then let Ben's arm go and took the handgun from his accomplice before opening the door, climbing out of the front and getting into the back next to Ben. He held the gun firmly against his abdomen, then gave the driver a muttered instruction. The Land Rover started moving again, straightening itself out before continuing along the road.
'You won't get away with this,' Ben told him. 'People know I'm here.'
Suliman ignored him.
'You need to listen to me,' Ben persisted. 'There's a virus down there. That's what's killing everyone. If you let it spread, millions of people could-'
'Speak again, Mr Ben,' Suliman interrupted him with a growl, 'and it will go very badly for you.'
They drove for twenty minutes. Ben stared ahead of him, his face fixed in an expression of the deepest contempt, and even though he didn't dare turn to look at her, he could sense that Halima was doing the same. He could sense Suliman too; he was close enough for him to feel the warmth emanating from his skin, and he could smell the sweat on his clothes. Ben was sweating as well, from a horrible mixture of humidity and fear. But most of all, he could feel the barrel of the gun bruising between his ribs. He did his best not to think about it, trying instead to come up with a way to get out of this. There had to be something he could do.
He could think of nothing.
One of the men in the front pulled a pewter hipflask from his pocket and drank deeply from it. He offered it to the driver, who shook his head in annoyance. Around them the state of the road worsened, forcing the driver to reduce his speed somewhat, and the vegetation grew thicker: tall rubber trees started to line the road, forming an impenetrable wall of rainforest. There were no other cars. It all looked deeply inhospitable. At one stage the car slowed down as it negotiated a rickety wooden bridge crossing a wide river. The river itself was not very full – just a stretch of muddy-looking water slinking its way underneath them. Ordinarily, the treacherous bridge would have made Ben uneasy; at the moment, however, his mind was on other things.
Eventually Suliman spoke again, and the vehicle came to a halt. Still pointing the gun at Ben, he opened the door and climbed out. 'Get out,' he said flatly.
Ben and Halima did as they were told.
'Go round to the front of the car, face it and kneel down.'
By now the two other men were in the road. One of them had his Kalashnikov trained on them, so Suliman let the handgun fall and threw it onto the passenger seat. As Ben and Halima knelt down in front of the Land Rover, Ben could feel the scorching heat of the engine against his face. It gave him no warmth, though; his whole body had gone cold with fear. He knew what these men had in their minds.
One of them said something in Kikongo, and the others laughed. 'He wants to know which one of you will be first,' Suliman called out.
More laughter.
'Gentlemen first, I think,' Suliman continued. 'That is the British way, is it not?'
Ben's body shuddered. The man with the gun was behind him – he could tell by the scuffing of his feet in the dusty earth. But how far? A metre? Five metres? He had no way of telling. 'I'm sorry,' he whispered to Halima. Her breath was shaking and tearful. Ben glanced to the side to see a look of terror such as he had never seen before.
'Do it,' Suliman barked.
Ben clenched his eyes shut, every muscle in his body tensing.
Click.
He started, the shock of the sound forcing his body forward.
Click.
The sound again.
Ben and Halima looked sharply at each other, both realizing what it meant. The rifle had stuck: they had one chance to get away. 'Run!' he shouted hoarsely. The two of them stood up, spun round and barged their way past the man, who was looking at his weapon in confusion. Ben caught another whiff of alcohol – clearly the guy was too bleary to have cocked the gun properly. They sprinted down the road, and as they did so, Ben heard Suliman screaming behind them in Kikongo. 'We need to get into the trees,' Ben panted at Halima, loud enough for her to hear but not so loud that the others would know what they were planning. 'After three, bear to the left, OK?'
'OK.'
'One.'
Bang! A gun fired, and just ahead of them Ben saw an explosion of dust where the bullet fell.
'Two.'
He heard the three men behind them arguing and shouting.
'Three.'
Immediately they veered right, plunging under the canopy of the rainforest. It was unforgiving and barely penetrable, but they had no option other than to fight their way through. Back on the road, they heard Suliman furiously shouting something.
'What's he saying?' Ben asked urgently.
For a moment Halima didn't reply, too intent on fighting her way through the verdant bush. But eventually she spoke.
'Track them down,' she translated. 'And kill them.'
CHAPTER TEN
A couple of years ago, Ben's mum had taken him to Kew Gardens in London. A typical Bel Kelland day out, with lots of lectures about the environment and what we were doing to it. What he remembered most, though, was the Palm House, a huge glass pavilion in which the heat and humidity levels were high enough for all the exotic trees and plants that were kept there. It had been oppressive after only ten minutes; but it was as nothing to the surroundings in which he found himself now. His face was moist, not only from the perspiration of running, but also from the thick humidity in the air – ten times worse now he was under the canopy of the rainforest than it had been in the village. His unsuitable Western clothes were already ripped by the angry thorns of the unfamiliar plants all around him, their tough, juicy leaves barbed on the edge like the teeth of a saw. Remarkably he had not yet cut his skin, but he suspected it was only a matter of time.
Halima led the way, deftly finding paths through the thick foliage that Ben would never have seen. Behind them they heard the shouting of the men, seemingly coming from different directions but in fact, Ben soon realized, confirming the fact that he was wildly disorientated. He had no idea if he was running north, south, east or west. All he knew was that he had to keep going. They ran blindly for at least half an hour, both of them breathless and Ben feeling a sharp stitch in the side of his abdomen; he forced himself to push through the pain barrier, however, knowing that the alternative was a lot less palatable.
Eventually they stopped, spent a minute catching their breath and then, barely daring to move, listened around them. It was not silent. The screams of unseen birds filled the air; closer to the ground were the shuffles and movement of unknown creatures. But the sounds they were listening for – the shouts of their pursuers and the noise of humans inexpertly cutting their way through the forest – were absent. Ben looked at Halima in relief; her eyes
were flashing darkly and she returned his gaze with a coldness Ben hadn't expected. 'You OK?' he whispered.
'No,' Halima replied sternly. 'This is all your fault.'
Ben blinked at her. 'What do you mean?'
'Those men, they would have never done this to me if you had not interfered.'
'What are you talking about, Halima? They were going to kill both of us.'
'You pointed a gun at them!' Halima started to raise her voice, only lowering it when she saw Ben wince. 'Do you not understand what that means in these parts? There are bandits everywhere – if you threaten to kill someone, they will try to kill you first.' Her Congolese accent could not hide her fury. 'Those men were taking me to the village elders. I was to be punished for showing you the ritual last night. Not killed.'
'No, Halima.' Ben spoke firmly, urgently. 'You're wrong. Listen to me carefully. Your village is not cursed.' She tried to interrupt, but Ben spoke over her. 'Let me speak. You heard me tell Suliman that my father has become ill – I have as much interest in this as anyone. He's a scientist – a good one – and he thinks that there is some sort of virus down the mine, highly contagious. The people who run the mine know this, but they stand to make a lot of money from the Coltan down there. Suliman knows we're on to them. I wouldn't mind betting that he has orders to kill anyone who discovers the truth. That's why he was abducting you – he thought I had told you what was going on.'
Halima looked confused.
'Think about it, Halima,' he urged. 'Why would the village elders send three men with AK-47s to catch a fourteen-year-old girl? It doesn't make sense.'
'No,' Halima said. 'You don't make sense. If Suliman thought that there was a virus down there, why would he risk staying?'
'Because some people are immune. Like you, for example.' Halima's hand went up to the amulet round her neck, and she fiddled with it as Ben continued to speak. 'That's why they put Suliman and his men – people who they would never think of putting in positions of authority – in charge.'
For a moment Halima didn't reply, but eventually her wide eyes stared directly into Ben's. 'And what about you, Ben Tracey?' she asked in a low voice. 'Are you immune from this virus?'
'I don't know,' Ben admitted. 'All I know is this: if this thing spreads beyond your village, millions of people all over Africa could die. We have to alert the authorities, and we have to stop anybody from getting in or out until it's under control. We have to get back to Udok, Halima.'
Halima looked at him thoughtfully. 'You would really go back, even though you believe what you believe?'
Ben closed his eyes momentarily. The image of his father, lying helplessly on his makeshift bed, appeared in front of him. 'I haven't got any choice,' he whispered, before looking back at Halima. 'You don't believe me, do you?'
Halima shrugged slightly. 'I believe something in the mine has been disturbed. You call it a virus, I call it something else. If your plan is to close the mine down, then we both want the same thing.' Her voice softened slightly. 'And I am sorry about your father. I understand what you are feeling. I will help you.'
'Thank you,' Ben said simply. He looked around him. 'We need to get back to the road.'
Halima shook her head. 'No,' she told him. 'It would be too dangerous. There are too many bandits in this region. If they saw us by ourselves, they would kill us just for the clothes we are wearing.' Ben remembered Abele's words of warning – 'In the Congo, the only person safe from voleurs is the man with no money' – and with a shudder he recalled the man who had tried to rob them when they first arrived in the region.
'You're right,' he said. 'And anyway, Suliman will be expecting us to find our way back to the road. I'd be willing to bet he'll have people there looking out for us.' It was a devastating thought. The canopy above was impenetrable, the surrounding rainforest dense and inhospitable. Ben felt something crawling on his skin; he slapped the side of his face to get rid of it, but could feel a mosquito bite already welling up there. With a sinking feeling, he realized that he did not even know in which direction they needed to travel to get to the village.
As though reading his thoughts, Halima spoke. 'The road we took travels in a straight line west from the village. We are somewhere on the north side. But if we are to travel east, we will have to cross the river at some stage.'
Ben nodded.
'It will be very dangerous,' she told him seriously. 'Many wild animals live in that river, and you do not always see them until they are upon you. Perhaps there is another way.'
'What?' Ben asked.
'There is another village twenty miles to the west of here. We would not need to cross the river. Perhaps if we could reach it, I could get in touch with my sister and ask her to raise the alarm.'
Ben shook his head. 'We might be carrying the virus,' he told her. 'We can't risk spreading it to anywhere else. Besides, it's too far. We need to raise the alarm as quickly as we can.'
'But the river-'
'Listen to me, Halima. The first thing Suliman will do when he gets back to the village is inform his superiors in Kinshasa about what has happened. They will suspect that you'll try and contact your sister. She's in great danger. If we don't raise the alarm quickly, who knows what will happen to her?'
Halima fell silent.
'I'm sorry, Halima,' Ben said after a moment. 'But you need to know what we're up against.' He looked around. 'I have to get to the satellite phone in Suliman's office, and I can't do it by myself.'
Halima nodded her head gently. 'Tell me what you want me to do.'
Ben chewed on his lower lip. 'The first thing we need to do is get our bearings,' he said almost to himself.
'I can use the stars to navigate,' Halima told him. 'But in here…' She looked up meaningfully at the thick canopy overhead. They were not going to see the sky for a while.
'Then the only other way I can think of discovering which way is east is by watching the sun rise.' Ben joined Halima in looking unenthusiastically up at the trees above him. 'We'll never be able to do that from here,' he murmured.
'There are hills in this region,' Halima told him.
Ben understood immediately what she was saying. 'If we can get above the tree line,' he mused, 'we'll be able to see the sun setting and rising.' He stood up. 'Let's get a move on. We still have armed men tracking us, so we need to go quietly.' A thought suddenly came to him. 'What are the chances of there being landmines in the forest?' he asked.
'Small,' Halima told him. 'Most people are not so foolish as to come here.'
Ben wasn't sure if that was a comfort or not.
He stepped away in a certain direction. Suddenly there was an unholy scream. It wasn't particularly loud, but it was full of terror and pain, causing the blood to run cold in Ben's veins and the birds in the trees to fly away in a deafening flock of movement. Ben stopped in his tracks and looked back at Halima. 'What was that?' he breathed.
Halima looked grim. 'It could have been anything,' she stated. 'One wild animal killing another, I think.' She stood up and approached Ben, who had changed from feeling forced confidence to sudden fear. 'There is only one way to survive in the forest,' she told him seriously, 'and that is to accept its ways. If you start to fear it, or break its rules, it will consume you.' She looked above her, where the birds were settling back down in the trees. 'Everything that happens here happens for a reason. If you understand that, all will be well.'
Ben took slow, deep breaths, listening carefully to what Halima had to say.
'Most of the animals here will fear us,' she continued. 'But if we impose ourselves upon them, they will have no option but to attack us. And if that happens, they will be far more dangerous than foolish men with guns.' She walked deftly past Ben and pulled back a curtain of palm leaves that blocked their way. 'Follow me,' she whispered. 'And go quietly.'
Ben and Halima struggled through the jungle in silence, heading uphill whenever the opportunity presented itself. By now it was midday, and even though they were p
rotected from the direct beams of the sun, it was still growing intolerably hot. Already the inside of Ben's mouth was becoming dry and leathery; he kept it firmly closed in an attempt to prevent moisture loss, but he was still desperately thirsty. They would need water, and soon.
All afternoon they struggled. At times they would stumble upon natural clearings where ordinarily Ben would feel safer, relieved of the all-encompassing oppression of the rainforest; but they knew they could not stay long in the open. There were men after them, and they had to stay hidden. After a couple of hours, though, they found themselves on a steady incline, and at one stage they had to scramble over rocks to gain height. The low evening sun was blood-red in the sky when they found themselves on the bald summit, above the thick line of the trees. They sat there catching their breath, watching the sun slip easily across the sky. When it was threatening to disappear, Ben pointed in its direction. 'West,' he said shortly. 'Or near enough.' He stood up and turned round a hundred and eighty degrees. 'So we need to travel in that direction. Or as near to it as we can – it won't be easy keeping our bearings.'
Halima came and stood next to him, and for a few moments they looked in silence over the vast expanse of the African rainforest. It stretched as far as they could see, undulating and magnificent, punctuated in places by mountainous peaks, elsewhere by deep troughs that seemed to be filled with hazy steam. They could still hear the noise of the forest from where they were, but it was peaceful nonetheless. 'It is very beautiful, is it not?' she murmured. 'When men disturb what has been here for so long, no good can come of it. It is no wonder the ancestors are angry.'
Ben turned to look at her. 'It's not the ancestors, Halima,' he said gently. 'It's a virus.'
Halima smiled. 'You have great faith in your science,' she observed. 'But answer me this. If a snake bites you at your home, what would you do?'
'Find a doctor,' Ben replied. 'And fast.'