By dusk, they had still not quite arrived at the hills, although they felt that they could almost touch them. They were in that state where if they’d passed someone at the side of the way they might easily have walked right past him. The hill was their fixed and only objective.
Until now, they had avoided walking in the dark, but they were past caring about wild animals or much else. There was little discussion. They paused only to snap the headbands of their torches on, hoping that there would be enough battery power left for the final part of the journey. Moonlight shone down on them, even though clouds obscured the source of the light. The sky was more grey than dark, as if illuminated by a supernatural power; but all their focus was on the looming blackness of the hill before them as they passed into its shadow.
They trudged on, one behind the other, in darkness and silence. Even the rain was quiet. Simon led them deeper into the shadow. The others only saw the silhouette of the one in front, distorted by the bulk of the backpack that each of them still carried. The packs would have been abandoned too, except that none of them had enough spare consciousness to suggest it.
***
Green hadn’t found it so difficult to pick up the trail of the crash survivors and he’d made good time catching up. Before long it became obvious to him that the small range of mountains he’d been looking at for a while was the place they were heading for. After that, he’d seen enough. He didn’t need to talk to those people and he wasn’t so enthusiastic to see what condition they might be in. That was none of his business. He knew that they were following a trail left by others; and it was those others who interested him. He didn’t know whether he’d find them still in this place, but he could be sure that the survivors would lead him no further.
These hills were not just the only feature in the landscape, but the only place of importance that appeared on Green’s map for many miles around. The banner on the map called them a “World Heritage Site”, which Green understood to mean that there should be people there.
Gauging the distance to cover before he reached the hills, Green feared that he might already be too late to catch up with the first arrivals. He’d wasted too much time on distractions; but no good worrying about that any more. The task he set himself was to get there as soon as possible and discover whatever there was to be found. He plotted his course in a broad arc that was calculated to avoid contact with the remaining survivors and to use some country that looked a little less hostile to motor vehicles than the direct way.
It seemed there was a road of sorts that led to a tourist campsite at Tsodilo; but Green saw no reason to draw attention to himself by coming in at the main gate; not when he’d come so far overland already. Best to spy out the lie of the land first. You never knew; there could still be someone in the camp that he might recognize. If he was challenged for leaving the track, he’d come across as the confused foreign traveller and no-one would be the wiser.
As the afternoon darkened to evening, Green’s truck made a tortuous progress across the wild country, kicking up dust that Julian Bowen might have spotted from his hilltop vantage point if he hadn’t been napping between directing all his attention on the small group of hikers who were inching ever closer to the base of the hills.
It was late evening by the time Green reached his destination and started to think about places he might park up away from prying eyes. There was a slight gully that he was able to follow a little further into the hills. The slope was quite steep on either side of the gully; walls that would provide a degree of privacy. He spotted a copse of trees and pointed the truck in that direction. There wouldn’t be much leaf cover, but better than nothing.
As he came closer he applied the brake suddenly. There was a vehicle already stationed in the hideaway he had selected; and even in the half light of evening it looked very much like the truck belonged to some kind of police authority.
Green stayed where he was for a long time. He’d expected that whoever was in the truck would have their own reasons for wanting to stay hidden. Perhaps they were rangers, on the lookout for poachers or idiots like himself who had strayed off the reservation. At any moment he expected to see a figure climb down from the truck and begin to walk across to him, with that slow confident swagger that law enforcement in any country used. He couldn’t think of any reason why the confused tourist story should not stand up, so he was not too worried. On the other hand, he had no idea what the standard of law enforcement was in these parts or whether they were likely to be amenable to reason. If it came to that, he couldn’t see why an official looking truck like this should be hidden away. One thing was sure; there was no reason for Green himself to get out of the car and make a target of himself.
He could see now that some effort had been made to camouflage the truck. There were a few broken off boughs spread over the bonnet and the windscreen was shaded by a tarpaulin weighted with stones to minimize reflection. What he didn’t see were any people.
Fuck it, he said aloud, finally.
Green let the driver’s side door of his own vehicle off the catch and felt it swing open on the slight incline. He never took his eyes off the other truck, but nothing moved. He stepped down and covered the short space between the vehicles as quickly as was consistent with his story of being a lost tourist.
It was a ranger’s vehicle alright. The badge on the door told him that much. But there was no sign of life.
Green still didn’t believe in coincidences, though for the moment he couldn’t think how this truck might fit into his story. Coming into the hills from this side, there wouldn’t be too many places where you could hope to stash a vehicle away from inquisitive types, so it was no real surprise that he, coming from the same direction, had ended at the same spot.
Perhaps the men he was after had used this vehicle before transferring to another less conspicuous one and now they were long gone. But that didn’t feel right. The engine wasn’t warm when he felt the hood; and there was nothing to suggest the truck had been used recently, but somehow Green just knew that it had not been in this place very long. For one thing it was too big and obvious to remain undiscovered even hidden as it was.
That meant there was a strong chance that whoever was using it would be coming back and soon.
Green thought about his own truck, parked in the middle of the way. He needed to move quickly. First a quick search of the truck: maybe the money or valuables were still here. He didn’t find anything of that kind, but he’d make a more thorough search later. He did notice two things. The first was a kind of upright rack attached to the column just behind the driver’s door. Green knew enough about weapons to be certain that this was a housing for a rifle of some kind: and the rack was empty. That was bad. The second thing was a dark spray on the driver’s side door that it would have been easy to miss in the deepening gloom. Now that he’d touched the dry stickiness of it and tasted it on his finger he could even smell the blood.
Whatever had happened to the first victims, this one had been shot, at close range. Maybe only one left now, come back to tie up loose ends. Who could say?
He reversed his hired truck out of the ravine being careful not to rev the engine hard. His vehicle was painted white and there was no chance to hide it from someone returning to this spot. He intended to be away before the dawn, given that a murder investigation would be seeking out this place sometime soon. Since it was already too dark for casual visitors, he only took care to park where his truck would not be visible to anyone returning to the hidden spot from a position higher up the mountain.
He walked back to the abandoned ranger’s wagon, picking his way through the bushes and low shrub higher up the slope and avoiding the exposed trail. When he got to the truck he stood quietly for a long time before breaking cover, but by now the night was his friend.
Green came down to slope towards the back of the truck and climbed into the rear, sliding down low on the bench seat so that he wouldn’t be visible to anyone
returning to the vehicle. Quickly, he settled down into the frame of mind; relaxed but watchful, that the years had taught him to employ in situations where you just had to be patient and wait for the action to come to you.
***
As darkness fell, it became more difficult for Julian, observing from the hilltop, to make out the shapes of the hikers in the landscape, even with the powerful binoculars. He knew that they were close now. Sometimes he thought that he’d lost them, or that they must have made camp for the night; in which case he’d have to search them out. But once they switched on the head torches, he could always be sure to see at least one of them as they weaved in and out of the bush that grew thicker close in to the mountain.
Everything would be fine. From where they were now there was only one way to come; and it would bring them directly to where he would be waiting for them. It was time to move from his observation post and make his final preparations.
***
Simon took the front as usual; Jill the rear. As they came closer to the hills and the massive blackness rose before them in place of a skyline, it became harder to pick their way. They almost needed to feel where to plant the next footstep rather than looking for the route ahead. Even so, they’d been walking continuously now for so many days that their bodies, weakened as they were, found a kind of rhythm. They barely stumbled in the night. When it happened that one of them did break stride or tumble, there was no fuss. Whoever had tripped simply dragged themselves upright and resumed their place in the line.
Time no longer had any meaning for them, until there came a moment when Simon noticed a wavering line on the ground ahead that reflected the moonlight slightly more than the surrounding area. Sure enough, as they came to it, they saw that they had found a path. Not a path with a prepared surface, or a clear destination in sight: only a fragile ribbon of earth that had been worn clear of vegetation and packed hard by the passage of many feet. For them, it was where what they knew as civilization started. This path would lead to another more definite path and then to a road and eventually to a city. It was a faint strand that they could follow back to the source. Just for a moment it felt like they were already home.
They paused for a moment. No-one spoke. There was no need. It was enough to stand facing each other, knowing that the half-seen faces opposite were sharing the same complicated emotions. Emma hugged Simon. George hugged Jill. But they would still have to follow the trail at least as far as the camping ground before they could throw themselves down and sleep for a long time.
The trail bisected the direction they had been following, at an angle, but it was easy to know which fork they should take. Now they had the path to follow they revived a little in spite of everything. They barely noticed the rain. The path led them up a steady incline; then a short downhill into a gulley between the hills, with steep sided cliffs and boulders rising suddenly above them. To right and left they saw lighter patches of ground where the land was more open and the grasses grew densely. Their own route followed a narrow gap between the rocks where they needed to feel their way in places.
Simon led them up a second, steeper climb through one of the narrow passes, till they emerged at a small plateau of grassland. He paused to check the direction they must follow. A loud crack startled all of them. As the echo died in the rocks, Simon stood very still. Even in the dark they could see that his shoulders had gone slack, as if his body had lost all force. He put a hand to his chest.
Been shot, he said with surprise.
The noise repeated and then something small and fast impacted the rocks close to them. Jill grabbed Simon and pulled him back towards her.
Back down the path, she shouted at them.
She supported Simon as they all ran, blind in the dark. Somehow their bodies could still produce a small amount of adrenalin when the shock was severe. Simon was able to move with her, but she couldn’t see in the dark how badly he might be hurt. The wetness on his shirt didn’t feel like rain: it was hot and sticky.
There were no more bangs just now, but even so they couldn’t stay on the path. Jill saw shapes of high rocks to the side of them, framed in the light of her head torch. There was one that looked as if it might lead into a cave, or at least into some cleft in the rock where they might find refuge.
This way. Follow me.
As they clambered over the rocks, Jill could feel that Simon was getting weaker, needing more support from her. Perhaps it was only shock, but they needed to stop and look at him as soon as possible.
They followed a narrowing space between cliff walls to a point where they had to climb over some boulders; and then ahead of them was a darkness so black that it seemed as if the rock was swallowing up the night.
It was a cave; maybe a place where humans had lived and hidden from the night creatures that pursued them through millennia.
Inside, as far as we can go, she told them.
They moved further into the cave, panting from exertion and fear, but moving more cautiously now that there didn’t seem to be an immediate pursuit. The high walls above them came closer together and finally closed above their heads. Inside, it was dry. In the recesses, the rock floor was smooth. Jill knew it had been worn smooth by the people who’d been in this place over countless generations.
Do you think there’s a way in through the back?
Don’t know. George, check out what’s back there but don’t go far. Emma, help me get Simon comfortable here till we have a look at him.
Simon’s face was white in the torchlight and his eyes were vacant.
Oh my god, he looks bad, Emma wailed.
Quiet, he may not know where we are, Jill snapped. Simon is in shock. That’s why he’s so pale.
Who may not know where we are? You mean him?
George rejoined them.
It seems to end a bit further along, he said. There’s a place where it’s open to the sky, but I don’t think anyone could get down there. What do we do now?
Try to stop this bleeding. I’ll do it. You and Emma stay over there, where the passage narrows. Anyone coming in there has to duck through and they can’t see in from the other side. If anyone tries it, stop them.
She was feeling Simon’s chest as she spoke. His breathing was ragged, but there was no wheezing or coughing like she assumed there’d be if his lung was punctured. The wound was on the heart side, but the fact that he was still alive suggested that organ must have been missed.
Drop those packs, Jill whispered. Grab a piece of the timber each.
They still had a few lengths of the wood they carried so that they could start a proper fire. Why no-one had thought to abandon them before now, they couldn’t say. Jill checked the timber that each of the others had selected.
If anybody or anything comes through that gap, swing at it with everything you’ve got. That means you as well, Emma.
She spoke harshly to the girl, who seemed to be on the point of cracking up.
For a moment, everything was quiet. The main sounds were Simon’s breathing; shallow and fast; and the rain outside. Jill pulled a t-shirt out of her pack and started tearing it to improvise a bandage. She found that she needed her pocket knife to start the rip. In a short time she’d slipped off Simon’s pack, adjusted his position as best she could and at least covered the wound with a dressing that was bound tightly around it even if the blood was already seeping through.
He’s not bleeding so badly, she whispered to Emma, hoping it was true.
Emma was staring into the darkness.
He’s out there, isn’t he?
I think so.
George suggested that maybe it wasn’t what they thought. Perhaps they’d stumbled across some poachers, or maybe even some rangers who took them for poachers. In this place at this time of night, they’d likely shoot first and ask questions when there was no-one shooting back. He didn’t sound convinced by his own words.
Whoever that was, it was probably a mistake and they’re far aw
ay by now.
Unless it’s Bloom, Jill replied.
You know that’s ridiculous Jill. He would have passed through here days ago. Why would he hang around waiting for us?
I don’t know George. But why are you just as certain as me that it’s Bloom?
For a moment, there was nothing else to say.
Stay here you two. Remember what I said. I’m going to have another look at Simon and then check out the cave to see if there’s anything here we can use. Don’t make any noise. It’s best if you turn off those head torches. He can’t see in so easily from out there, but that doesn’t mean you have to wear a target on your heads.
What can we do, if he comes? Emma was calmer, but she sounded resigned rather than angry.
If Bloom comes in here. He’ll find out we are not the same people he attacked a few days ago, Jill said.
Then she left them in the darkness.
***
Julian was quite pleased with the way things had turned out so far. The thump of the weapon against his shoulder when he pulled the trigger had been most satisfying, especially when the man crying out a moment later told him that his shot had been good. There was a thrill to it that he couldn’t have put in words; even more because he was firing from a hidden location and his victims couldn’t see him. In a different age, he would have been a hunter, he thought. He knew that he’d have been good at it.
He’d been close enough to them to see that he took the lead one in the chest. It was that teacher, he was sure of it. So that was the end of him. The fat fairy, the dyke and Emma were the only ones left. It was a shame about Emma, but unavoidable.
As the party fled, he followed close enough to see where they went, without exactly pursuing. What was it they said about a wounded animal being the most dangerous?
In any case, there was no hurry. They’d run away from him, back down the trail; and away from where the other people were. Julian was confident that the noise of the rifle wouldn’t have been heard by anyone down in the camp. It was too far away and the rain muffled sound. He could take all night over this if he needed to.
When he saw that they’d gone into the cave he was in two minds over his approach. To go in after them could become complicated, even though it was now just two girls and George to deal with and Julian had the gun. On the other hand, they had now effectively trapped themselves, which was a good thing.
the Disappearance of Jonathan Bloom Page 20