the Disappearance of Jonathan Bloom

by Martin Sowery

  Footsteps, he said. Looks like someone on his own, not so long ago. What do you make of it?

  I think we all know who that was, Jill replied.

  ***

  Green left the crazy old people with some villagers at a place where he’d thought he’d seen signs of life further back on the trail. He didn’t have to backtrack too far but he was losing precious time all the way.

  As he’d expected the couple had turned out to be useless so far as getting information was concerned. Neither of them was able to utter more than a hoarse croak. Green wasn’t sure that what they were saying would have made any sense even if he’d been able to understand it. They moved their mouths alright, but no words and not much sound came out.

  Neither of them had even had the good sense left to sit down when he’d parked the truck in front of them. They just stopped where they were, eyeing him dumbly, like animals that didn’t understand motorized transport. Green would not have been surprised if they had turned to resume their futile tottering. He would have left them to it in that case.

  But instead, once he’d coaxed a little water between the cracked lips of each of them (not too much, he was sure that would kill them) they permitted themselves to be ushered to the rear door of the cab, into which they then collapsed in a trancelike state. Green managed to make them a little more comfortable and hook the seat belts around them enough to stop them from sliding around. He wasn’t sure they’d survive a long journey, even so.

  The settlement that he came across was tiny and all but empty. There were some women working outside the huts while young children played. They’d heard the car engine approaching and the children danced and waved with excitement as he pulled up. The women carried on working, keeping one eye on the new arrival.

  When he dragged the old couple out of the back everyone rushed over to help. They started asking questions straight away, which was a complication that Green had foreseen. Fortunately there wasn’t anyone around who spoke English. He was able to mime that these were not the only people who needed his help and so he must leave them to the care of the village. The people seemed to know what needed to be done for the couple

  The chances of the Johnson’s surviving the night seemed fifty-fifty at best. In any case it would be days before they could be moved and longer than that before they could tell what they knew to anyone.

  Green wasn’t worried that a mysterious stranger in the middle of nowhere in a hired truck would be dragged into the story. He’d be long gone before it was out. The problem was that the money was further away than ever and now he had to find his way back to the exact spot where he’d allowed some useless urge to override his better judgement in order to pick up the trail again.

  He started back driving more quickly than he should. By the time he’d stopped feeling angry with himself, he noticed that the truck was bouncing around dangerously. Green forced himself to slow down. It wouldn’t help to wreck his transportation. In his mind he was going over how any one of his colleagues would have dealt with the situation he’d just faced. The obvious conclusion was that he’d made a simple thing complicated. Right now, he didn’t feel good about himself. Maybe it was getting time to check out that retirement plan after all.

  ***

  The rain had given them life and hope, but it gave Jill time to reflect that probably they weren´t going to survive long unless they could find something to eat. Weakness was consuming them. Perhaps it had been wrong not to bring more supplies from the truck, although she wouldn´t have believed they could be out here and still breathing for so many days.

  They needed to talk it over while they rested.

  - And there´s food all around us, she complained.

  - What do you mean, Emma asked her.

  - The animals.

  Emma shuddered.

  - We´ve got one knife, with a four inch blade, between us, Simon reminded her. I don´t think we´re really equipped for hunting.

  - There must be some way, Jill insisted. Maybe we could set snares.

  Simon had an idea.

  - Perhaps there is something we could try.

  He told them he´d read about the oldest form of hunting, that existed in the years after humans came down from the trees and before they even learned to make tools. The people would start to chase one of the grazing animals. They´d take it in turns to make sure that the animal didn´t get a chance to rest and they´d be careful to prevent it returning to the safety of a herd. All the animals were faster than men and at first they´d spring away easily, but they were built for short fast efforts and they didn´t have any endurance. After a few sprints the animal would be exhausted and then it was literally easy meat for the humans jogging behind.

  - It´s how the wild dogs hunt. That´s why they can bring down pretty much anything, Simon explained. Probably it´s how humans and dogs started to work together.

  No-one was impressed by the plan. George pointed out that he wouldn´t be much help and Simon was the only runner among them.

  - If only we had some dogs to help.

  - The dogs would be more likely to eat us right now, the shape we´re in; said Emma.

  The trouble was that no one had a better idea.

  It was easy enough to try. The impala were more numerous in the country they were passing through now and there were always a few solitary grazers. George was detailed to begin the chase by startling the animal. Emma and Jill would try to catch up before it had time to settle and Simon would jog after them to follow up with the knife.

  George managed to get upwind of the creature and set it off easily enough, but it started to fast and easy that Jill immediately doubted they´d be able to keep it in sight, let alone catch up.

  As she and Emma stumbled after the creature, the major flaw in their plan became clear. They didn´t have enough strength left to run after anything. After a few steps she could feel her heart pounding. It felt as if all the oxygen had gone from the air and her vision blurred. Ahead she could see that the animal had paused and only that kept her moving forward.

  Emma tumbled to the ground in front of her, but Jill somehow kept going. She knew she would be too late. The animal had too much time to recover. Their efforts were farcical.

  Simon came past her, moving much quicker than Jill although he seemed to be floating in comparison. He kept an easy stride but she could hear him panting heavily from the same unaccustomed weakness.

  The impala had turned back and now it was watching them, relaxed but alert enough to spring away again. Off it went and Simon continued his futile pursuit of the animal. Jill stopped and bent over with her hands supporting her knees. It was all she could do not to fall over. She lost sight of Simon for a moment.

  Then she heard him call.

  - Come. Quickly.

  Jill forced herself upright and trotted as best she could in the direction of the yell. She found Simon lying on the ground in a patch of open space. The impala was long gone. She noticed there were holes all around; burrows probably. Her first thought was that Simon must have tripped on one of them and damaged his ankle; but he was holding onto something small that was under him and making a series of short shrieking calls as it tried to break free. Jill saw that it was some kind of ground squirrel.

  - They were sunning themselves as I ran by, Simon panted. I practically fell on this one. The others went down the holes. Get the knife.

  - You already have it, Jill reminded him.

  - I know, but I can´t do it.

  Jill took the knife from the pouch on Simon´s belt. When she felt the blade, it didn´t seem very sharp. Simon was still holding on to the body of the squirrel. Jill seized its ears, prompting even more desperate cries.

  - It´s weed on me, Simon complained.

  - Keep hold and pull it back, Jill told him. We need to stretch out the neck.

  The animal´s cries were getting to both of them. This needed to be done quickly.

  Jill took a deep breath
. Maintaining her grip on the squirrel´s head, she pushed the blade under its chin and drew back sharply, pressing the knife as hard into the creature´s throat as she could. She saw blood start to run, but the animal only intensified its struggles.

  She´d wounded the poor thing and now she had to kill it whatever happened. She must kill it anyway; it was food. The knife was useless. She should pull and twist the neck, unless the neck was too strong or the creature too flexible. Jill started to feel sick and she noticed that Simon was looking away.

  She stood up straight and took the squirrel from him, holding it by the back legs. Simon released it quickly enough. Hanging from her arm, the animal was bigger and longer than the ones she was used to seeing, but with that same bushy tail.

  Before it could twist and bite her she swung the animal round and batted its head on a rock. Even after that it wasn´t dead, so she did it twice more. Then the squirrel stopped making any noise and its body went limp. The little head was matted with blood and the jaw was set at an odd angle with one eye gone.

  Jill wanted to be as far away from this place as it was possible to be. She squatted down, unwilling to sit on the fouled earth, but still holding on to the back legs in case the unfortunate animal should revive.

  - We´ll need to skin it, Simon said quietly.

  Emma insisted she wouldn´t eat any of the squirrel, claiming it would only make her sick. Jill resisted the strong urge to tell Emma to do as she was told and that if she wanted to act like a child she´d be treated as one. Better to wait until they smelled the meat cooking. They should do that in the daytime, Jill thought. None of them wanted to be too close to the smell of roasting flesh in the night air; not knowing what it might attract. They made camp and started a fire straight away.

  Jill took the knife to skin and prepare the meat, without a word to the others. She knew the basic theory. You cut the skin away around the neck and feet, slit open down the middle carefully so as not to open the guts. The knife has to slide under the skin and saw outwards. Once the creature is opened, put your hands inside and slowly squeeze out the intestines and other parts that would make it unfit to eat.

  The insides parted easily enough from the body when she tugged at them, bringing them out in her fist. They felt warm and disgusting and there was a greenish tinge to them. The smell was bad enough even though Jill hadn´t punctured anything. She wondered whether there was any way to tell if the creature was safe to eat. It was suspicious that Simon had been able to catch this one so easily and she wasn´t sure what could happen if they ate an animal that was sick. It was a rodent after all and rodents carried rabies. She wasn´t going to mention any of that to the others. There was nothing they could do about it and they had no choice but to eat.

  Under the fur, the skin was black, which surprised her. It was a lot harder than she´d imagined to peel the skin back from the flesh underneath. She used all her strength to pull the coat open, but when she´d finally managed that and severed the hands and feet with the blunt knife, what she had left looked more like meat, only not so much of it. She threw the pelt down in the place where she´d discarded the guts. Then she went back to rejoin the others.

  George had the fire already prepared and he´d sharpened and stripped of the bark of a twig that was thick enough to make an improvised spit. Jill handed him the carcass and he began to work it onto the stick.

  - I need to get my hands clean somehow, she told them

  She left the rest of the preparations to the others. Whatever I may have done bad, she thought to herself. Surely I´m close to paying for it now.

  Chapter seventeen - Day Sixteen

  Julian put down his binoculars, for the third time, and let out a deep sigh. He could still barely believe what he was seeing.

  The light rainfall of the previous day was only a memory now. At this elevation, the afternoon was hot but breezy. Visibility wasn’t perfect because of the thick cloud that had spread over the sky at daybreak. Even so on a first sweep of the plain, he was sure that he’d picked out tiny figures in the distance moving towards the hills.

  At first he’d told himself that it could be anybody, but now there was no doubt. He was looking at his old friends; four of them at least. He’d kept the powerful glasses trained on them long enough to see that their pace was halting and broken. Progress was barely perceptible. Nevertheless if they only kept going like that, he believed they must reach the hills sometime that evening. They’d just passed the spot where he’d stopped to finally bury the last of the mobile phones and the stupid navigation device that he’d never been able to make work.

  Now Julian had a problem. He felt a powerful urge to march down the hill right now and meet them out on the plain. He had his rifle, although he couldn’t be confident of hitting much with it unless the target was close. If he went to them now, he would deal with the risk that they might be noticed by rescuers as they came nearer. Otherwise he’d have to deal with any rescuers as well. On the other hand, as things stood, they were struggling along in their half dead way right to the spot where Julian would be waiting for them.

  Waiting for them to come to him felt like a more elegant solution. There was an economy of effort involved in dispatching these nuisances from his hideout on the hill that would be most satisfying to him. All that way across the savannah only to find that he’d simply be waiting for them when they arrived.

  If he went out to get them, he’d have more walking to do. He couldn’t risk using the patrol vehicle, that he’d hidden so carefully, for a job like that. Then there was the risk that they’d scatter in panic at his approach which would be messy. He’d have to hunt them down one by one. All in all, he decided, it was better to be patient; like the ambush predators he so admired.

  There were three big hills in this range. Julian had positioned himself on the slope of the one closest to the desert wilderness he’d lately come out of. Only one of the three hills was open to tourists. This one was restricted because it was of special scientific interest, or sacred to the locals, he forgot which. In any case he was not likely to be disturbed here.

  Julian had been slightly anxious the whole time until he’d got the car parked up and reasonably well concealed. It was strangely difficult to hide anything properly in this country. Despite the openness of it, you could almost walk up to something as big as an elephant or giraffe without noticing they were there, but an ordinary thing like a car stood out like a landmark.

  Anyway, he wasn’t planning to use that vehicle again unless he had to. It was too conspicuous and before long people would be looking for it. He’d hidden the truck for insurance and to put the authorities off his scent for as long as possible.

  The current plan was to deal with these troublesome individuals who had not had the good manners to die easily and then he would depart in some other transportation that he supposed he would find as need arose. In fact, despite the sorry condition of their lorry, he was very much hoping that the two African roofers he’d met earlier would still be finishing up jobs at the campsite when he was done here. Then he’d be able to settle scores and solve the transport issue at the same time.

  Julian was very conscious that he shouldn’t count on having much time; maybe only a matter of hours. It could be that the radios on the ranger’s trucks were known to be unreliable, or perhaps the men weren’t too bothered about staying in contact once they were out in the bush. In either case, the vehicle might not be missed for a time; but it was safer to assume that a search party would come looking sometime very soon. If he absolutely had to use the patrol truck to escape, then he’d make his way by night, keeping to the main track as much as he could.

  Once he was clear of this immediate area, he’d be able to relax a little; maybe change vehicles or get a ride with someone. Then he’d find an internal flight or else pay a lorry driver to run him to the coast. Borders would present a complication, but those were the sorts of complications that kept life interesting.

  For
now, he leaned back against a rock, checked his watch, took a sip of water and adjusted his frame of mind to wait. By his side he had his backpack and inside that a light rain jacket, in case the rain came. That had seemed unlikely earlier on but the sky was darkening as the shadows lengthened.

  At the other side of him was the rifle from the truck. He’d made sure it was set to fire single shots. The gun felt reassuringly heavy when he held it; better than a pistol. Even if he didn’t know how to use the sight properly, he was confident that he wouldn’t be far away from his prey when the moment came to strike.

  ***

  The evening was drawing in, but Jill felt that tonight she had to keep them going. One way or another, she was determined that this should be their last day out in the wild. The others felt the same way. It was a case of one last push with everything they had left. If they stopped to make camp, they might never have the strength to start again, however close they were. The thought of failing when they were so close to their objective and had suffered so much gave them just a little bit more energy. To end like that would be worse than if they had meekly stayed by the Land Cruiser waiting for the end.

  Everyone had eaten some of the squirrel. So far no one was sick and they were all that little bit stronger for having something inside.

  Cloud cover made the air a lot cooler. Even with the last of the water gone they should have been able to cover these last few miles easily enough. It was just that they had nothing at all left. There was no force left in any of them that wasn’t concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other for the next few steps. They couldn’t even spare a thought for what they might do if they came to the boundaries of the reserve and found their way obstructed; what they might do if there was a high fence.

  That focus didn’t change even as the rain began to fall, hardly noticeably at first but afterwards in a steady downpour. They could have stopped and made efforts to collect water properly instead of taking only the drops that fell onto their faces or were trapped in their cupped hands, but instead they continued to walk on, like creatures that were neither dead nor alive. They only noticed that as they became soaked through, the physical effort involved in each step became even greater.