Jackal's Dance (41 page)

‘I make my own decisions,' Kalila said defiantly. ‘My father has no control over who I see.'

‘You won't pull rank on me?'

‘It's his rank, not mine.'

There was determination in her voice where before had been fear. If he'd been able to help in
some small way at all, that was good enough for Chester.

Kalila thought about Chester's words. He was right about one thing. There was no point at the moment in thinking about those poor souls left out on the pan. Mental strength had to be conserved, not squandered in sympathy for those beyond caring. Tribal ways, Kalila knew, were slow to die. And these terrorists were tied to the past, not the future. They'd behave in the time-honoured tradition. In fact, the execution of those on the pan was nothing more than an expedient way of ridding themselves of unwelcome baggage. In the old days, raids on enemy villages meant death to every man, old person and young child. Only the women, girls and pre-pubescent boys were spared, the first two for carnal use, the latter to be trained as soldiers to swell the conquering army's numbers. To be held for ransom – and Kalila agreed with Chester that this was the men's objective – would not spare the women amongst them. Chester would know that she, probably more than the other hostages, had a fair inkling of what to expect. His attempts to divert her fear were appreciated but they hadn't worked.

Beside her, Chester took Kalila's hand and curled his fingers through hers. It crossed his mind that a walk through the bush with a girl as beautiful as this would normally be a wonderful experience. But Chester carried inside him the greatest of fear. UNITA was not known for compassion. The ideal which drove some of its
members towards a political objective was lost on most. He thanked God that Kalila could not understand the language spoken by their captors. But even while he was grateful he knew that in the end his worst fears would be realised. Kalila's looks had been noted.

Encouraged by the fact that no-one told Kalila and Chester to be quiet, the others talked quietly as they walked. Angela found herself beside Josie. ‘Why do you think they want us?'

Josie had been thinking about the same thing. ‘The questions we were asked. Their leader was trying to find out whose family is well off. My guess is they'll demand money for our release.'

‘Is that all?'

‘What do you mean?'

‘They won't try to . . . hurt us?'

‘I have no idea,' Josie said sharply, unwilling to speculate on anything other than being held captive. She'd also been worrying about rape. Death would be preferable.

Angela was so scared that her legs seemed to have lost all rhythm. She walked clumsily, stumbling often. The horror left behind paled by comparison with the numbing fear of what lay ahead. Like Josie, Angela would prefer to die.

James Fulton was still fretting about Mal. What had happened to him? Perhaps he'd seen the soldiers and made a run for it. He really wanted to believe that.
Please be safe, Blackie. Please be safe.

Troy tapped Dan on the shoulder. ‘Let me take over for a bit.'

‘Thanks.' Dan's back had been killing him, the pulled muscle screaming a protest.

Troy relieved him of the handles. Philip Meyer had the front end. Dan walked alongside the student in silence. Both men were thinking the same thing. It was Troy who whispered his concern. ‘The women. Do you think that –'

‘I don't know,' Dan cut in.

‘Maybe not.' Troy tried to stay positive. ‘Chester says we'll be held for ransom. When the news breaks, journalists from all over the world will want pictures and interviews. Surely it would be in UNITA's interest . . .' His voice tailed off. Troy knew it might even work better for the rebels if their hostages were seen to be the worse for wear.

Dan shook his head. ‘I don't like it. Some of them have been smoking marijuana. I could smell it this morning. If these men get boozed up as well, anything could happen.'

‘What do you suggest we do?'

Dan took his time answering. The memory of his young love's abused and mutilated body flashed before him. He knew what men were capable of doing to women. The safety of the hostages balanced on a knife edge. Eventually, he said lamely, ‘Pray that their discipline doesn't break down.'

It seemed a forlorn hope to both of them.

Fletch relieved Philip. Caitlin walked with him. ‘I'll take my turn with the stretcher.'

‘It's pretty tough going.'

‘I know. But I'm not carrying a pack. At least I can spell you for a bit.'

‘Thanks. I'll let you know when I've had enough.'

She lowered her voice and asked, ‘Do you think he'll be okay?'

Although Fletch was facing forward, he'd seen how grey the actor looked when he took over from Philip. ‘Hard to say. He should have come round by now.' He glanced cautiously over his shoulder towards Gayle but she seemed oblivious of anything other than Matt.

Caitlin caught his look and lowered her voice even further. ‘That's what I was thinking. There could be internal bleeding. Do any of you know anything about concussion?'

‘Megan was our first aid expert.'

‘The girl who was . . . taken away?'

Fletch nodded.

Caitlin glanced down at Matt. ‘He's not breathing very well.' She stretched out a hand and felt his forehead. ‘Ice cold. I don't like the look of him.'

Gayle smiled vaguely when she saw Caitlin's concern but she made no comment.

Fletch called to Chester who dropped back. ‘We should try to give Matt some water. Can you ask if it's okay?'

Chester made the request in Portuguese then returned to Fletch. ‘I'm afraid the answer is no.'

‘Bastards!'

‘Careful,' Chester warned in an undertone. ‘The Portuguese equivalent sounds very similar. They'll know what you mean.'

‘So what?' Fletch was suddenly exceedingly angry.

‘Stow it,' Chester urged. ‘There are more of us than they need, especially South Africans. They won't hesitate to get rid of a few. The leader has already singled out Sean, so we don't want any trouble. I don't think you need his death on your conscience.'

The information quietened Fletch considerably.

Felicity found herself next to Sean. ‘How do you feel?'

‘Been better.'

‘Any double vision?'

‘Just a lump and a bit of a cut. The headache's nearly gone.'

‘You were lucky compared with Matt.'

‘I know. He seems pretty bad.'

Felicity fell silent, choosing her next words carefully. Under normal circumstances she'd have said nothing but their current predicament was far from that. ‘I know this is none of my business,' she said finally, ‘but I'll say it anyway. We're all scared and would welcome someone looking out for us. However, there are a few here in more need than others. Jutta has her father. Gayle is on her own, at least for now. And so is Thea.'

‘I know.'

‘Will you keep an eye on her? Thea, I mean.'

Sean glanced briefly at the poet. ‘Of course.'

‘Good.' Felicity pointed her chin towards Billy who was walking further in front. ‘Because it doesn't look as if he will.'

‘Billy's only ever taken care of himself. No doubt he'll continue to do so. Don't worry, I'll be there for Thea.'

‘I rather thought you would be, just wanted to be sure.'

‘How about you?'

Felicity shook her head. ‘I'll be fine. Tough as old boots, that's me.'

‘No-one's fine,' Sean said tightly. ‘We're in a lot of trouble.'

‘I know. I was just . . .' Her voice tailed to a whisper.

‘Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I'm just worried that no-one will know about this for several days. By then, God knows where we'll be. The more time these bastards have, the better their chance of getting away.'

‘Maybe someone will . . .' Again she couldn't finish.

‘Don't count on it. No more guests were expected at the lodge. The first chance we have of the alarm being raised is if the vet returns tomorrow. By the time anyone's worked out what might have happened to us . . . Well, it's a long time,' he finished lamely, aware that his words were not helping.

Felicity took a deep breath. ‘It seems unreal. Those people back there.' She was close to tears. ‘How could this happen in a place like Logans?' she burst out.

Sean glanced around but their captors seemed unworried by their conversation. ‘It's happening all over the world,' he said finally.

‘That's supposed to make me feel better?' Felicity slapped at a fly.
Shut up, you stupid woman.
Self-pity will get you nowhere.
She brushed her eyes impatiently. ‘Look, can we change the subject? There's something I need to tell you. I don't know why, I just do. It's about Thea. You too, unless I miss my guess. Like I said, it's none of my business, I don't know any of you from a bar of soap. I'm putting this badly and I'm sorry about that. It's just that most of you seem to get along pretty well. That must be hard sometimes, especially when personal issues crop up. You all get thrown together a lot.'

Sean's silence said he didn't need anybody prying into his private life.

Felicity persisted. ‘Give me a break. I'm creeping up on something here. There's a reason.' She hesitated. ‘My marriage broke up too. The first thing that hits you is a fear of being alone. I just wanted to tell you that.'

‘She will never be alone. Not while I'm alive.'

‘Can't have been easy. Feeling the way you do and not being able to do anything about it. I hope everything works out. Her husband's a real cold fish. Anyway, the thing is . . . oh shit, I'll just have to say it and be done with it. Thea seems to be holding up quite well but don't be fooled. That's all.'

‘Mmmm.'

He was not going to be drawn further so Felicity left it.

Billy Abbott was, predictably, thinking only of himself. He resented the way the others assumed he would carry one of the heavy packs.
I'm the
manager
, he told himself.
I shouldn't have to do it.
When Philip approached him and said, ‘Would you spell one of the stretcher carriers in about ten minutes? It's hard work. We should take fifteen minutes each and then let someone else take over,' Billy's first reaction was to refuse.

‘Why should I? I'm already lugging this lot.' He indicated the pack.

Philip's voice hardened. ‘In case it's escaped your attention, you're not the only one. Eight of us are. Walter has his hands full with Jutta. Besides, he's not fit. Sean is injured but insisted on taking his turn. We can't expect the women to carry Matt, although Caitlin has already offered. Like it or not, you'll go next.'

‘A pity someone else is not on the stretcher,' Billy said spitefully.

Philip assumed he was talking about Sean. ‘We're all in one hell of a fix. Put your personal feelings aside and pull some bloody weight.'

‘If there's one thing I can't stand,' Billy said coldly, ‘it's a self-appointed leader.'

Philip let his comment go. He dropped back to walk with Felicity and Sean. ‘Nice man, your lodge manager.'

Sean pulled a face. ‘Falling over himself to be helpful, was he?'

‘Something like that.'

‘I can imagine.'

‘He'll do his share,' Philip said with quiet determination. ‘I'll make damned sure of it.'

They were walking over dune veld. Grass had
found purchase in the fine, soft sand but the walking was difficult. Ace kept the pace fairly fast. His men had no trouble with that even though some seemed to be weighed down more heavily than any of their male captives. The students were young and fit, although Angela's progress was often erratic. While the others all seemed to be managing, Walter Schmidt was struggling. He had a heart condition, due mainly to being overweight though not helped by high blood pressure. Numb with grief yet determined to protect Jutta, Walter could concentrate only on putting one foot in front of the other. His breathing had become ragged, he had a stitch and his legs ached. Gayle, who kept trim at regular gym sessions, was beginning to realise that having no excess flab did not mean she was fit. Nor did it mean she was tough. Her horribly expensive designer running shoes had rubbed blisters on both heels. She was drained of liquid, out of breath and one knee, injured years ago when she'd insisted on performing her own stunts, threatened to collapse.

Whether they were coping or not, everyone was more than relieved when Ace finally called a halt.

‘Ten-minute rest,' Chester translated. Again he asked for water and again, it was refused.

No-one had enough medical knowledge to realise that the makeshift stretcher was actually causing Matt harm. The blow to his temple had resulted in blood escaping into brain tissues. This was having the same effect as a stroke or cerebral haemorrhage.
In hospital, Matt would have been put on a drip, his fluid intake and electrolyte balance constantly monitored and carefully adjusted. He should have been kept perfectly still, lying in the correct position to minimise the risk of nerves compressing, causing almost certain paralysis. The stretcher, hastily adapted from a hammock, and the fact that Matt was strapped into it, meant that he lay in such a way that pressure was slowly squeezing the life out of nerves. And not only in one part of his body. Each time the stretcher tilted, more damage was done. Had he been conscious, the others might have noticed Matt's speech becoming slurred, his motor skills progressively less and less pronounced. They would certainly have seen that one pupil was dilated. It was only when they laid the stretcher down and saw that the actor had wet himself, that any of them knew something was seriously wrong.

‘Mattie!' Gayle wept.

Ace walked over to where Matt lay and looked down at his pale face. He'd seen death many times. This one was on the way out. He shrugged and left. There was still the actress. If the sick man slowed them down they could leave him. No point in wasting a bullet if he wasn't going anywhere. In the meantime, for as long as the Englishman stayed alive, carrying him would sap energy. It would make the others more docile.