Heart of the Hunter

by Lindsay McKenna

  The number of people who swarmed around them surprised Reid. Children of all ages ran up, quickly touching his hand or arm and then dashing off, as if playing a game of imaginary tag with him. The adults watched from a distance. He saw welcome in their eyes as their gazes fell on red-haired Casey, marching quickly toward the center of the village. He saw suspicion and curiosity in their eyes as they looked at him. Reid didn’t blame them. Theirs was a history of wars, changing politics and battles at every turn. Who was their friend? Who was their foe? These were the questions in their eyes as they assessed him.

  The smell of wood fires under the black iron tripods set up here and there, the many different delicious odors coming from the hanging black kettles, encircled Casey as she walked. Laughing and calling out the names of many children she knew, she dug into her deep pockets and brought out the colorfully wrapped hard candy she’d brought for just this occasion. The shrieks, yelps and cries of delight as the children surged forward, their hands open wide, made her grin with pleasure. Within moments, the candy was gone. Just ahead, she saw a very thin, aged man bent over the gold-headed cane he always relied upon.

  “Grandpa Henri!” Casey cried, waving wildly at him. She trotted up the slight incline to where the old gentleman stood, dressed in a white linen shirt and black trousers, barefoot yet regal.

  Tears filled Casey’s eyes as the old man lifted his terribly thin, branchlike arms and held them wide—for her. He was nearly ninety now, and very frail, so Casey slowed to a walk. As was protocol, because he was chieftain, she stopped and bowed her head to him.

  “Come, come, child,” Henri chided in flawless French. “Let these old, weak arms hold you once again… .”

  Casey never tired of looking up at the chieftain, who, in his prime, had stood nearly six foot seven inches tall. Age had bowed his once proud back and rounded his once broad shoulders. He’d carried many loads and responsibilities in his lifetime. The look in his dark, sparkling eyes told her of his love for her, of his unabashed welcome at her return to them. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around his narrow torso and squeezed him very gently.

  “Grandpa,” she whispered, suddenly choked with emotion, “it’s so good to be home again.”

  “Ah, my child,” he said with a sigh as he wrapped his arms about her, “it is we who rejoice in your return to us.”

  Reid stood at a respectable distance and patiently waited.

  The entire village, it seemed, was encircling the hut where the aged chieftain stood with Casey in his embrace. The man’s face was narrow with high, proud cheekbones, his skin ebony beneath the bright sunlight. Around his neck he wore a necklace of sharply pointed teeth and fangs that Reid guessed had come from a lion. The necklace was the only outer adornment that proclaimed him leader of this very large village.

  As Casey eased out of his embrace and turned to face the villagers, she placed an arm around Henri’s back to steady him. He planted his ivory cane with the gold lion’s head into the red soil.

  “My people, our wandering daughter has returned to us! Let there be celebration!”

  A cry went up around Reid, enthusiastic and spontaneous. A number of people began to jump up and down. The children danced around, their arms thrust skyward. When he looked back, he saw tears tracking down Casey’s flushed cheeks. How beautiful, how vulnerable she looked in that moment, standing next to that proud old man. Her hair moved softly in the humid breeze, and she selfconsciously took a swipe at her eyes with the back of her hand as she looked up with adoration at Henri.

  “Grandpa, I have someone you must meet,” she said as the children continued to dance around them.

  Henri stood there, narrowing his eyes. “That young lion over by my second wife’s hut?” he demanded in his deep baritone voice.

  Chuckling, Casey nodded. “He’d probably like that compliment, coming from you. Yes, that’s Reid Hunter, my assistant for the next three months.”

  Cocking his head slightly in her direction, his gaze never leaving Hunter, he said, “A young lion for an assistant? My daughter, do you think I’m blind and deaf and dumb?”

  Chortling, Casey squeezed him gently. “No, Grandpa, none of the above.”

  “Humph, then invite him into my hut. The way he stands on guard, he awaits an attack from a leopard, or worse, a jackal.”

  Urging Reid to follow them, Casey flashed him a reassuring smile. Grandpa Henri ordered one of his younger wives, Celestine, to bring coconut milk, as well as other foods for their impromptu visit. Casey kept her stride shortened for the old man’s sake as he moved haltingly with his cane.

  “Our medicine woman said you were returning to us sooner than expected,” he told her, his nearly toothless smile broadening.

  Casey saw two of his many grandchildren pull back the colorful red-yellow-and-blue fabric that served as a door. Henri hobbled in and she followed. Looking back, she saw Reid approaching. He was on guard and tense. Here he could relax, but he didn’t know that yet. She smiled to herself. She was getting a real taste of his guard-dog side. And then, as she moved to the large, airy hut, she corrected herself: his lion side.

  As Reid entered the dim hut, he saw it contained four large windows that were open, allowing a breeze to flow through the confines. He stood a little uncertainly, because at the opposite end of the room, Henri was sitting in a huge embossed mahogany chair that had a lion’s skin hanging over it, and looking every inch the king of his domain. Around him were scattered black-and-white zebra hides over the hard packed dirt floor. Huge, comfortable pillows of many colors were situated on either side of his throne.

  Casey saw Reid’s hesitation and came forward, her hand extended. “Come,” she coaxed, her fingers closing around his.

  Reid allowed her to lead him up to the impressive dais where Henri sat. Reid followed Casey’s lead by standing more or less at attention and then bowing his head toward the alert chieftain.

  “Grandfather,” Casey said huskily, still gripping Reid’s larger hand, “this is Reid Hunter. He is my very able assistant and will help me out in the field. I hope you will embrace him as you have me. Reid, this is Grandfather Henri.” She released his hand and stepped to one side of the throne.

  Reid met the old man’s sharpened gaze and knew the chieftain missed nothing. Henri might be old, but that took nothing away from the glittering interest in his ebony eyes as he slowly assessed Reid from his feet up to his head and back down to his feet once again.

  “So, this time they send a young lion to watch over my adopted daughter?” he challenged Hunter. “You have the posture of one hunting for his own stake, his own territory. Your eyes are that of the gods of lightning. You move like one who is awaiting an attack.”

  Reid held the man’s slicing gaze. “I take what you say, Chief, as a compliment. Casey has told me of your bravery, of your being a great leader to your people. I honor any man who can do what you’ve done.”

  Henri raised one brow and looked in Casey’s direction. She stood attentively near his throne. “And the tongue of a diplomat?”

  “He tries, Grandpa,” she said with a chuckle. “Actually, Reid is honest to the bone. I told him about you. You’re a great man and I wanted to share with him how I felt in my heart about you.”

  “I see… .” Once again, Henri looked Reid up and down with that stripping gaze of his. “You don’t let many into your heart, daughter.”

  Casey looked down at her booted feet, embarrassed. “No, Grandpa, I don’t,” she whispered painfully.

  “And this young lion replaces your loss?”

  Her mouth went tight. Pain serrated her momentarily. “Well… I… “

  “You’ve chosen well,” Henri continued, praising her. He held out his hand toward Hunter. “Welcome, young lion. Sit here, next to me. My youngest wife, Celestine, will bring us coconut juice to quench our thirst and celebrate your being among us.”

  Reid saw sudden tears in Casey’s eyes. He wasn’t privy to her past, so he didn’t k
now what to make of what the old man had just said to her. Following the chieftain’s orders, he sat down on a gold-brocaded pillow to the left of Henri’s throne.

  A young woman no more than twenty years old, dressed in a dark-blue and yellow skirt and white blouse, hurried in with a platter of freshly sliced fruit and a wooden pitcher of coconut milk, along with three amethyst-colored glasses. Bowing deeply, she murmured a greeting in Bantu to Henri. The old man, with a flourish of his hand, ordered her to serve their guests first.

  Reid sat at enough of an angle to watch Casey, who sat crosslegged on a red pillow. She struggled to blink back her tears and regain her composure. He found himself wishing he was sitting next to her so he could slide his arm around her slumped shoulders and comfort her. She was obviously in great pain.

  “Much has happened since we saw you six months ago,” Henri said, lifting his glass to them. “Drink, and we shall talk more, my daughter.”

  The coconut milk was lukewarm, but sweet, and it quenched Casey’s considerable thirst. Coconuts and palm oil were two major exports of the country and Henri had nearly a thousand acres of palm trees. The work kept his people employed, and the money, as little as it might be, was enough to keep them alive and their bellies full. Nowadays, that was a miracle in itself. She admired Henri’s leadership and farsightedness despite the upheaval his country seemed to always endure.

  Smacking his lips, Henri looked over at Hunter. “Ahh, you were thirsty. Celestine? Fill his cup once again.”

  Eagerly, the young wife pushed up from her kneeling position in the center of the hut and brought the pitcher back to Reid.

  “Thank you,” he murmured to the beautiful young girl.

  He noticed she was pregnant and he smiled to himself. Henri might be an aging ruler, but he had an eye for beauty and was still able, at his advanced age, to father more children to ensure that his dynasty would live on. Reid raised his cup in toast to Henri, who nodded deferentially to him.

  “What has happened since I left?” Casey asked the chieftain, her hands wrapped around the large glass. As Celestine passed the silver platter of sliced fruit, Casey picked up a piece of papaya. She didn’t feel like eating but forced herself to do so. She did not want to disappoint Henri, who watched her every move like a doting relative.

  Sadly, Henri shook his head and waved away the offer of fruit from the platter. “A witch has cursed our village, I’m afraid, my daughter. He has sent the devil to us. The devil hunts my people, day in and day out. I’ve hired many sorcerers to stop it from attacking, from killing, but they are useless!” He turned and looked at her worriedly. “And now, my heart must stay awake at night and worry for you, as well. This devil is here to murder my family, one at a time.” He held out his hand and stroked her hair gently. “Because you are of my family, you are in danger as well… .”

  Chapter Six

  “What,” Reid demanded, “is the devil?” He saw Casey’s expression grow guarded after he asked the question.

  Grandfather Henri rubbed his chin with consternation. “You would call him a black mamba.”

  Reid shot another look in Casey’s direction, and she responded to the question she saw in his eyes.

  “Black mambas are the deadliest, most poisonous snakes on the face of the earth, Reid.” She twisted her head to look up at Henri. “They live in eastern and southern Africa. Grandpa, how did they get up here?”

  “Diamond runners,” he growled unhappily. “In a village thirty miles from here, a family stole some diamonds from them. The thieves got even. They transported at least twenty black mambas up here and loosed them on the village in revenge. Thirty people have died so far. The mambas, as you know, are family oriented. They live in nests of five or six.” He gestured unhappily toward the savanna.

  “Three months ago, my little granddaughter was digging in an old, rotting log. She found fifteen white eggs. She thought they were from a bird and brought home as many as she could carry with her. Her mother, who was nearby, was walking back with her when this brown snake with a cream-colored underbelly came rushing up like the wind itself.” He raised his hand. “My daughter swears the snake stood as tall as a man. It looked at my granddaughter, who had the eggs gathered in her apron. It was then that the mother realized they were snake eggs, not bird eggs.”

  Sighing, he said, “Wisely, my daughter told her to gently place the eggs on the ground. She had no idea that she was dealing with a black mamba. Aiyyee,” he muttered, pausing as he struggled with his emotions. “As the granddaughter placed the eggs on the earth, the snake struck her.” Henri wiped his watering eyes as he held Casey’s gaze. “She died in a minute’s time. A minute! My daughter came screaming home, carrying her dead child in her arms. Many of us saw the black mamba. It followed her. I swear, the snake is a wind god! He whipped around so quickly! We tried to chase it off with sticks, shovels and spears, but it outran us! It outran the fleetest warrior in my village… .”

  Casey gulped. “The black mamba, Grandpa, is the most dangerous and poisonous snake there is. Not only that, it’s the fastest moving. It has been clocked at fifteen miles an hour.” Gesturing with her hands, she said, “The mamba has been known to grow to thirteen feet in length, and when it moves through the grass, it will literally raise its head three feet upward.”

  Reid whistled softly. “Do you know how much muscle and strength that takes, to hold up that much of a snake’s body?”

  “Yes,” Casey said seriously, “i do. I’ve seen black mambas up close. Too close. I was with an OID field unit over in east Africa and had two run-ins with them. We were out collecting insects on a savanna and I got a little too close, I think, to a family nesting site. I had this twelve-foot female come whipping up to me out of nowhere.”

  Henri stared at her. “So, you have met them… .”

  Grimly, Casey said, “Yes. Enough to know that they are lethal, they are easily spooked and they strike very fast. You can’t outrun them.” She opened her hands in a helpless gesture. “One of the men working with me, a scientist from Johannesburg, was struck and killed by a black mamba.”

  “By any chance, was he collecting with you?” Reid asked, his voice deepening.

  “Yes,” Casey said, “he made a move, and the snake struck at him instead of me. I told him to remain absolutely motionless, that the mamba strikes something that is moving, but he wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “And why did it not strike you?” Henri demanded.

  “I got off a shot and blew its head off.”

  Reid studied her, a slight smile on his mouth. “I’m impressed.”

  “I do know how to use a pistol,” Casey said. She returned her attention to the chieftain. “The black mambas live around here, then?”

  “Yes. Right now, four of my family have been stalked and bitten by them. No matter where we go out on the plain to hunt, the black mambas follow us.”

  “Then they’ve got to have a nest nearby,” Casey muttered. “They don’t go out of their way to attack. It’s spring, time for them to lay their clutch of eggs.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Find the nest and destroy it,” Casey said grimly.

  “But to do that, you’d better have well-trained snake handlers, because mambas are very territorial and they do protect their own.”

  Henri waved his long, arthritic finger at her. “You, my daughter, must be careful out there.”

  Reid sat there stewing internally. Great, now they had the world’s most deadly and fastest snake in their backyard. He knew little about this venomous creature. One more thing to stay alert for.

  “Is there antivenin available on the mamba?” he demanded.

  Casey laughed. “On a mamba? A child dies in a minute. Three minutes max for an adult. No, there’s nothing available because you’re dead before it can ever be administered to you, Reid.”

  With a shake of his head, he glanced at his watch. “I need to make a comsat linkup.” Morgan Trayhern wanted a chec
k-in with them every twenty-four hours to ensure they were safe.

  “Grandpa,” Casey said as she reached over and squeezed his hand, “do you have some small huts we could use while we’re here?”

  “I have one, my child. Where you parked your car. My family has grown since you were last here. Two of my wives have had children.” He smiled proudly. “I only have one small hut to give you.”

  Casey hid her disappointment. That meant she and Reid would have to live, eat and sleep there in close proximity to one another. Panic ate at her. It wasn’t that she was scared of him, but the feelings he’d awakened in her were frightening.

  “That’s fine, Grandpa, I understand. With your permission, we’ll leave and get settled in for the evening?”

  “Yes, and then tomorrow we will officially celebrate your return to us. I will have one of my sons kill an antelope in your honor. We will feast on roast antelope and talk of what has happened to you since we last saw you.”

  Casey smiled and slowly rose. She released Henri’s parchment-thin hand. His fragility was obvious, yet the depth of life in his sparkling dark eyes made her smile. “That would be an honor, Grandpa. We’ll be there.” She made a little bow in front of him and then turned to leave. She noticed Reid followed the protocol as well.

  Once outside, Casey noted the sun was setting in the west, the shadows long and dark across the savanna outside the village perimeter. She waited for Reid to catch up with her. When he settled his hand on her arm, she caught her breath momentarily.

  “If Black Dawn doesn’t get us, the black mambas will,” he growled so only she could hear him. He kept his hand firmly on her upper arm as he guided her through the village. “Helluva turn of events.”

  “This is a helluva place, Hunter. Welcome to Africa, where life and death dance moment to moment with one another.” She knew she should pull free of his hand, but she craved his closeness, his touch.

  Looking around, he saw the purple and apricot colors along the horizon. In the distance, he could hear monkeys hooting and howling back and forth to one another. Out on the savanna, the herds continued to mill ceaselessly, the clouds of dust rising here and there. It was a land of incredible beauty, yet it was a deadly place, too. Just the thought that Casey might be bitten by the feared black mamba and die within minutes made his stomach knot. As he glanced at her, he saw that her cheeks were flushed and her lips slightly parted, and his fears dissipated momentarily. He liked the fact that she allowed him to touch her, that she remained close to him.