Zambezi Seduction
Page 5
But she couldn’t do it.
Kerry knew how to refuse a man. Scarcely a week went by without someone trying his luck. It went with the job. Passengers paid a lot of money for their seats. Some, usually the worse for alcohol, felt they had the right to more. Scraps of paper with phone numbers scribbled on them were commonplace. Only last week she’d had her thigh stroked. All such approaches were best dealt with early by a polite but firm put down. The words came to her automatically. She screamed silently at them, trying to make them go away. She wanted Chad, despite her denial to Anna Grobler. She hated to refuse him. But she had to. Had to.
“Chad, please . . . not now.” She sat back, trapped in her chair by his body. This was so much more difficult and delicate than dealing with an intoxicated stranger on an aircraft.
He dropped her hand as if it were a hot coal. He struggled to his feet, towering over her. The look of shock on his face told Kerry this was not the result he had expected. The next moment his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.
“My God, so Anna’s not alone. You’re a virgin too.”
Kerry bristled. “That’s none of your business. Chad, you’ve had four large whiskies – it’s the drink talking. It’s only the third day. I don’t find you unattractive . . . and I think we’ve hit it off remarkably well. But, as you’ve stressed, it’s a working holiday – not a dirty weekend.”
But already Chad was turning away. He shrugged and muttered, “I’m off to bed.”
Then he was gone, leaving Kerry feeling guilty – although she had done nothing wrong. At their first meeting in the Johannesburg hotel he had acted in a similar way: speedy withdrawal after rejection. It pointed to immaturity. Or was it the opposite – the actions of a driven, independent man, not one to dwell on setbacks, who just got on with his life?
Her determination not to be just another name on Chad Lindsay’s lengthy list of conquests was behind her refusal. It had taken guts. The easy thing would have been to surrender. But had she done so, how would she have felt about herself in the morning? Equally important, how would Chad have felt about her?
She now had real problems. Anna Grobler’s warning about Chad’s sexual code had proved absolutely correct. What had Kerry let herself in for? Had she just had a foretaste of what was to come?
Alone with him in the wilds of Africa, would she be forced to defend her honour night after night?
FOUR
The vulture dropped out of the clear sky. Effortlessly, in ever narrowing circles, it glided down to land first time on the long-dead tree.
Kerry lowered the binoculars and rubbed her eyes with thumb and forefinger. It was mid-morning but already perspiration ran freely in little beads down her brow and into her eyes, causing problems when she used the field-glasses.
“Dead tree’s full of vultures. What do you make of it?”
From the driver’s seat, Chad Lindsay reached a sun-bronzed arm across for the Zeiss 10x50s. For a full minute he silently studied the distant scene.
“Marabous and kites there too,” he said, his voice taking on an excited edge. “Chances are it’s a lion kill. And, with the birds staying in the trees, I’d say the lions are still there.”
Kerry’s heartbeat quickened. Few people visited Africa’s game parks without wishing to see lions – and she was no exception. For her, they would be an adequate substitute for the leopard they had so far failed to spot. Chad’s glance caught her clasping her hands together, her excitement apparent.
“Don’t count your chickens,” he warned. “There’s little chance of our seeing them.”
Kerry felt a surge of disappointment. “How come?”
“The tree’s a good half-mile from the road. Park regulations forbid visitors to leave their cars.”
“But . . .” Kerry cut short her protest. She needed to think. Compared to parks in East Africa – the ones seen so often on TV – this one differed in having more trees. The animals were there, but the cover made them more difficult to observe. They might not get another chance to see lions. She wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
“Can’t we find a road that passes closer to the dead tree?” she suggested.
Chad had already unfolded his park map. He rested it against the steering-wheel and studied it closely. His voice brightened.
“We passed one shortly before we spotted the vultures.”
“Well, let’s take a look.”
The Fiat raised a cloud of dust when Chad swung it about on the dirt road. In no time they found the turn-off. Chad brought the car to a stop. He groaned and muttered a curse.
The sign was small and half hidden in the tall yellow grass.
NO ENTRY
ROAD CLOSED
“Why?” Kerry cried out in exasperation. “The one road in the whole damn park we want to take.”
“Flood or rockslide damage, I expect.” Chad followed the closed road with his eyes. Kerry had already noticed that it swung in the direction they wanted.
Chad came to a decision. “No harm in going in for a quick look,” he announced boldly. “If we don’t, we’ll always wonder what brought the vultures down.”
Kerry felt like cheering. “We’ll go as close as possible to the dead tree, check the area with the binoculars and then leave.”
While Chad concentrated on following the best line over the rutted road surface, Kerry craned her head searching through the screen of Mopani bush for their objective, the dead tree. It was lost from sight now but she knew from the sun’s position that their direction was right.
Today was the third day following the debacle in the lodge. Next morning, Chad had offered a brief apology, saying he’d drunk too much during their talk. It had sounded somewhat half-hearted to Kerry. Nor had he improved her mood by insisting they leave at once on a game spotting drive – before she’d had a chance to get the sleep out of her system.
That first day was difficult, with few words exchanged.
Yesterday had been better, almost back to normal. Kerry noticed that on both evenings Chad had drunk a single night-cap before withdrawing to his room early. He seemed intent on punishing them both in an effort to lessen any chance of a repeat humiliation.
To Kerry, the episode and its aftermath was a bitter twist that had cast a shadow over everything. She had racked her brain trying to decide on her best response. She had come up with a simple plan – wait a few days. They were not yet a third of the way through their three weeks. Let time heal the wound – so far pride had been the only casualty.
“The tree should be close,” Chad said.
Now, since they had spotted the vultures, he seemed his old self again. There was adventure ahead; something was bringing the scavengers down. Kerry felt a new excitement: part adrenaline, part fear. It had her on the edge of her seat, eyes straining, searching the surrounding bush. The road was no more than a rough track which here snaked through thick bush country. In spite of it being the end of the dry season, the months without rain seemed to have had little effect on the trees. They were in leaf – shades of brown and yellow – making it difficult for her untrained eye to see any distance.
Sometimes through gaps in the trees Kerry saw open spaces of grassland. The nature of the country strengthened her feelings about lions. From what Chad had told her and her own reading, she knew they favoured open country where they could stalk and run down their prey.
There was movement in the sky ahead. The vulture was in view for only a second – but, by following its flight direction, through a gap they saw the dead tree. It was cracked and grey and naked below, and its upper branches were alive with a moving mass of large squabbling birds.
Aerial scavengers waiting patiently – for what?
Chad stopped the car. He kept his voice low. “We’re in luck – the road passes close. Hold my camera ready.”
Kerry lifted the camera off the back seat. It was already fitted with a zoom lens. Resting it on her lap she viewed the ground near the dead tree through the binoc
ulars. Her body was tense, all her senses heightened. This wasn’t like a zoo where signs pointed to Lion Enclosure and Elephant House. There were no signposts in the wild: this was mystery, the unknown – a drama unfolding moment by moment.
“Nothing yet,” she whispered. “Move on a little.”
It was the whiteness she saw first, the white belly. Then the head, neck and forelegs – and further back the torn red flesh. In a shaded area under an umbrella acacia a zebra lay, its lips curled back from the juice-stained teeth in the shocked, final grimace of death.
Lions! Bodies rippling with muscle, two tawny forms – blending perfectly with the tinder-dry grass – tore at the carcass. One had its head and neck buried in the ribcage, the other fed on the hindquarters.
As if on a signal, both stopped eating and raised their heads and looked towards the car. Both were lionesses. The foremost one’s face was totally blood-soaked. The other was a smaller animal. Kerry could see the row of prominent teats along its pale belly and the cruel, fearless look in the large slanted eyes. Both lionesses panted in the heat, wickedly long canines showing between bloodied black lips.
Alerted by Kerry’s reaction, Chad had seen the kill and switched off the car’s engine. He grabbed the camera. The Canon was fitted with a 400mm lens, quite sufficient for most wildlife shots. He rested the camera on the open window and began snapping pictures.
A low growl sounded over the background noise of vulturine screeches and hisses. Kerry saw four small cubs pad forward from the shade of some rocks.
She chuckled as she watched one cub, which appeared to be the boldest, attempt to climb up its mother’s back. The others pushed at her belly with their hungry mouths. Neither lioness had resumed eating; they continued to look evil-eyed, open-mouthed at the car.
Chad had been looking around, using the powerful camera lens like a telescope. Without speaking, he touched Kerry’s arm and pointed to a patch of shade. Through the binoculars Kerry saw the male lion, big-headed, with a full rufous mane. A magnificent looking creature. The breeze moved his mane back and forth and Kerry saw the lion yawn hugely and toss his regal head to thwart the noisome flies.
“Top cat in these parts,” was Chad’s verdict. “Full-bellied – now giving his wives their time at table.”
***
When they drove away Kerry was happy and full of wonder. Being there, you felt the blasting heat of the sun, saw the big cats’ immense power in their rippling muscles, heard the click-crunch of teeth on bone, the zing of a passing insect.
She turned to her companion. “Now I understand what you meant – about having to experience something before you can paint it.”
He grinned. “I knew you’d get it sooner or later.”
“I could even smell the blood,” Kerry said.
The track was narrow. Chad drove on looking for a place to turn. Thick and tangled bush encroached on each side. Stems and branches brushed against the moving car. There was no turning space so Chad drove on slowly.
Ahead, the land dropped away sharply into the slope of a river valley. Below in the distance, looking like a fat sleeping snake, curved the dry river bed – its sand yellow in the sun. Along its banks the vegetation was taller and thicker and greener than in the surrounding bush. Chad pointed out some gaps in the roadside cover at the foot of the valley.
“I’ll turn there.” Looking at the sky, he added, “Hottest day so far. Thunderstorm’s threatening – it may just hit today.”
At that instant, from the thick bush at the roadside, came a crashing, drumming beat and onto the track ahead of the Fiat, at a fast gallop, burst a zebra, then a second, third and fourth. Kerry glimpsed two more off to one side.
“Let’s test their speed,” Chad shouted, already accelerating down the hill after the zebra.
“Watch the road,” Kerry warned.
“It’s okay,” he said, grinning. “No big rocks or holes.”
Kerry glanced at the speedometer. Saw it passing 40kph, 50kph. Their speed alarmed her. But she had no wish to spoil Chad’s fun. They were on a high after observing the lions close-up.
60kph. The zebra kept on the track. Kerry wondered whether the lions had used its good surface for their final approach. She had read of lions chasing leaping impala along roads and past tourists’ cars.
They dropped to the foot of the valley. Ahead in the dry river bed, the zebra clattered over a stretch of concrete – there to give vehicles a firm crossing during the rains – their hooves kicking up puffs of dust. The Fiat was still travelling at speed and Kerry knew without asking that Chad’s intention was to cross over and turn on a treeless patch on the far bank.
They were almost on the concrete when they saw the dip.
Chad swore and stomped hard on the brake. “Hold on!”
The car was airborne for two seconds before coming down with a heavy thump onto the concrete. It levelled and hit the far sloping wall solidly, climbed its three foot height and took off again and bounced along the track. Chad pulled the car onto the open veld and started to swing it round.
“Sorry – the bump was a surprise,” he said. “These crossings are usually flat.”
Just then the engine stopped.
Kerry felt a twinge of unease. The revs had been too high for it to have stalled. The petrol gauge showed over half full. The engine should not have cut out. She saw that Chad was staring at the dashboard, his look a mix of puzzlement and horror. The only response when he tried to restart the engine was an unhealthy - sounding clattering noise.
Chad released the bonnet catch and, donning a golf cap against the sun, got out to have a look. Kerry heard him fiddling with leads and wires. Then for a while there was silence – and she guessed he had discovered the cause of the problem.
She knew it was bad from the look on his face.
FIVE
Chad explained that the rubber timing belt had slipped off the cam wheels. With the synchronisation gone, the pistons would have damaged the valves.
Kerry tried to remain calm, as her training in emergency situations had taught her. It was all a bit technical for her. But she knew the damage was serious, a garage job – a fact confirmed by Chad.
“We’re going to need a tow out of here.”
“The bump?”
He looked at her and nodded. “I feel such a bloody idiot.” Wasting no time, he checked his mobile phone and let out a curse. “No signal! Of all the places . . . we picked a beauty – a river valley.”
It was no time for recriminations. They had to put their heads together and work something out.
“These things happen,” Kerry said. “What now?”
“There isn’t a big choice. Either we sit and wait for someone to find us or I walk back to the main road and get help.”
“Chad, the lions!”
“Hell, I’d quite forgotten. My mind is full of engine parts.”
“So we wait,” Kerry said calmly. “How long before they find us?”
Chad stared ahead thoughtfully. “We’re due at the second camp – Main Camp – this evening. At six o’clock, when camp gates are closed for the night, staff get in radio contact with each other. So they will know we failed to arrive and haven’t pitched up at the wrong camp. Someone will check the roads between the two camps. They may work through the night – but I wouldn’t count on it. Tomorrow, when we still haven’t shown up, someone will have the bright idea that we might be on an unauthorised road. That’s the way I see it. I’d be lying if I said they’ll be here in a few hours – they won’t.”
“No lies, Chad. The good thing is that neither of us is hurt. I’ve done a mental check of our food and drink supplies: various tinned stuff, biscuits, two warm beers, an almost full bottle of Scotch, and three oranges. That should see us through.”
“I’d still like to walk to the road. After their feast, the lions will probably be sleeping.”
“Too risky. Always best to stay by the ship in an emergency.”
***
An hour passed. Chad sat with his back against a tree looking up the valley to where they had spooked the zebra. He had walked away from the car, leaving her there – the act of distancing himself, she guessed, a show of defiance against her will. He was frustrated, but under the circumstances he had every right to be. She was less upset. Already she had seen so much. Chad’s pride had been dented; he needed time to come to terms with her growing influence. Up until now he had run the show. He was on home ground and she had been happy to play second fiddle and learn from him. His mistake had weakened him in both their eyes, not fatally, but it had created the opportunity for her to bring more balance to their relationship.
“The no entry sign,” she said through the open window. “Will they punish us for ignoring it?”
“What sign?” Chad smiled for the first time since the breakdown. “I saw nothing – did you?”
“I’m writing it down,” Kerry said. “Describing our breakdown in the bundu.”
Later the heat forced her out of the car. She joined him in the patch of shade under the tree.
“October – they call it the suicide month,” Chad said tersely, wiping the perspiration from his brow. “Heat builds before the summer rains break. Right now it must be around the hundred mark. Feel the humidity: clouds are forming – rain’s not far off.”
Kerry had a sudden thought. “Can’t we build a fire? Make smoke.”
“You don’t start fires in national parks.”
“Not even on the sand of the river bed?”
“It only takes a spark and the grazing in half the park is destroyed.”