The Four Horsemen 3 - Famine (3 page)

Could the Gods be mad at them? Had the miners and the men they worked for offended them to the point where they had turned their faces away from their followers? Ekundayo knew he could be beaten for not believing in the Christian God, but all his life he had followed his grandmother’s teachings, and she taught of the old Gods.

Ekundayo sighed and coughed as dust coated his throat. Choking, he buried his face in his arm to muffle the noise. Whether the guards were still there or not, there could have been other people around. He didn’t want to take the risk of being found by anyone else either. He didn’t have enough strength left to fend someone off if they chose to rob him.

When his coughing fit ended, Ekundayo pushed himself to his feet, and staggered down from the rocks on to the trail. He dragged his feet on the ground as he stumbled in the opposite direction to the mine guards. He would try to make it to the border, and see how his situation looked when he got there.

At what point had he become a thief? He shook his head, hoping the spinning would stop as he walked. When had he given up his integrity and turned into the very type of person he’d usually be disgusted by? His knees buckled and he fell, hitting the hard-packed dirt with a crack. He barely managed to catch himself with his hands before smacking his face on the ground.

He’d become one of those men because of the gnawing hunger in his belly and the burning thirst in his throat. He’d chosen to take something that wasn’t his because of all the things he would never be able to afford. Mostly, he’d stolen because of the empty hopeless eyes of the children in his village whose stomachs were bloated without enough food to eat.

Foolish and ambitious were words his grandmother had often used to describe Ekundayo. He would own up to being foolish, but he’d never really considered himself ambitious. He simply wanted something better than what he had, though he’d never have thought he’d steal for it.

Forcing himself back on his feet, Ekundayo shoved his hand in his pocket to reassure himself the diamond was still there. It hadn’t fallen out when he’d gone down. He glanced up at the blazing sun, and licked his cracked lips. He really didn’t have a clear map in his head of where he was going. He’d never been outside of his village for any reason.

Ekundayo didn’t know how long he’d been walking, but slowly the chill of night began to cause him to shiver. The heat of the savannah disappeared and he shuddered, wrapping his arms around his waist. He should go and find shelter, yet if he did he would sleep. He knew he could do a lot of travelling during the night when it was cooler, and those searching for him would be less likely to be out. Of course, more dangerous creatures hunted in the night.

Lions and hyenas stalked their prey during the night, and he had nothing to defend himself with. Finding shelter until morning seemed like a wiser decision. Ekundayo wandered off the trail and through the brush, searching for a place where he would be safe for the night.

After finding a tree with several large branches creating a platform high off the ground, Ekundayo climbed up and curled up the best he could. His hands and feet were scraped and raw. He wished he had some water or food, yet knew there wouldn’t be any around for him.

In the morning, he would see if he could find something to drink. It had been almost a full day since he’d had water, and he swore his skin was drying from the inside out. All his muscles ached. He checked the diamond one more time, and allowed his eyes to drift shut. Hopefully, tomorrow would be easier.

The cries of the zebras woke Ekundayo the next morning. He gathered his thoughts around him before he stretched, remembering where he’d fallen asleep the night before. He held on to the tree trunk and stood, staring around him to see if he could spot any water.

In the distance, the early morning sunlight glinted off the clear glass-like surface of a watering hole. Zebras, gazelles, and antelope gathered around it, and it was the herds’ calls he heard. He placed the direction of the watering hole in his mind before carefully climbing down from the tree.

As he made his way to his destination, he kept a sharp look out for Cape buffalo, elephants, and other creatures that called the savannah their home. On foot he was vulnerable and could just as easily be killed by one of them as by the men hunting him. Nothing stalked him, so he reached the oasis without incident.

Ekundayo hung back, waiting until the herds had moved on. When there were no other animals approaching the watering place, he slipped out from the bush, and knelt by the bank. He scooped up the murky water and drank. He knew better than to drink too much. He would only throw it back up.

As he bent down to take another drink, he felt the sensation of being watched skate across his back. He didn’t think there were any humans out there with him, so it could only mean one thing. One of the continent’s big animals stared at him. Was it preparing to attack or was it merely studying him to figure out what he was?

Straightening without rushing, Ekundayo began to make his way around the pool to where he saw the trail in the distance. He didn’t rush or run, knowing it would entice whatever stalked him to attack. Once his feet hit the ruts where vehicles, wagons, and people had wandered by, he breathed a soft sigh of relief. The feeling of being hunted disappeared, and he trudged on.

As Ekundayo walked or shuffled like a mindless zombie in the direction of freedom, he tried to figure out exactly what he was going to do with the diamond. Selling it on the black market was the best idea, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it. With his luck, the man he tried to sell it to would be working for the diamond companies, and Ekundayo would find his ass being dragged back to the mine.

If he did sell it, how would he get the money back to the people in the village? It wasn’t like he could return, because he was a wanted man, and always would be. Shaking his head almost caused him to fall over. Ekundayo stopped, and locked his knees to keep from collapsing. God, the lack of food and water had made him crazy. He looked in the direction he was headed before glancing back over his shoulder.

He pulled the diamond out of his pocket and held it in his hand, rolling it around between his fingers. It wasn’t the biggest gem he’d ever found, but, when cut and set, it could bring him hundreds of pula. The money could buy food and bottled water for his village. The knowledge rolled around his brain, and was the most important thing he thought about during every minute of his race to the border. Okay, so it was more of a plod towards the border. He barely had the energy to breath, much less run.

Ekundayo sighed, and turned. He would go back and take his punishment. He didn’t have the resources or partners to help him do what he wanted. Dirt puffed up around his feet with each step, and he was soon coated with a thin layer of dust. The itching drove him to distraction, causing him not to pay attention to where he was going.

His left foot hit a rock and he tumbled over it, arms flailing as he tried to cry out. It didn’t matter that there wasn’t anyone around to hear him. Maybe the noise would echo and someone somewhere would come to investigate.

When he came to a stop at the bottom of the crevice, he lay on his right side, covered in cuts and bruises. He could feel blood trickle from various wounds. He couldn’t move, his arm lodged in the crack between two boulders.

Ekundayo rested his head against one of the rocks and closed his eyes. He’d rest, and then try to find a way out of his predicament. As the sun beat down on him, Ekundayo slipped into unconsciousness.

Famine strolled along, studying the animals he walked among. They were skinny and rough-looking, but they seemed to be finding enough to eat and drink. Somehow, no matter how bad the drought got, the animals managed to survive. It was the mortals who suffered the most from it.

Each grain of the salt he dropped seemed to suck out any moisture in the ground. He moved along, awed in a fundamental way by the stark beauty of the African land around him. Famine had been from one end of the continent to the other thousands of times over the centuries, yet it never ceased to amaze him how gorgeous the land itself was.

A noise caught his attention and he stopped, tilting his head to listen. It didn’t sound like an animal, it seemed rather human. Famine calmed his breathing, straining to hear it again. There it was, drifting on the breeze coming from his left. It almost sounded like
Help me.

Pacing alongside him, his stallion didn’t react to the plea, but then Famine doubted it would have reacted to anything that didn’t have something to do with Famine’s mission. The creature could be very single-minded in its actions. Famine closed his bag and hung it around his neck before swinging astride the stallion.

He turned the horse to face the right direction, and nudged it with his heels. “We need to see if there’s someone who needs our help.”
Again, the stallion didn’t seem inclined to go anywhere it didn’t want to go. Famine kicked its sides, and it merely snorted.
“Fine. I’ll walk there.”
He slid to the ground, and started walking in the direction of the voice. The horse huffed in annoyance as it followed him. He waved at it.
“You don’t have to come with me. Since this isn’t part of my mission, you probably have better things to do with yourself.” He stumbled to a stop and turned to face the stallion head on. “Did you just roll your eyes at me? I didn’t even know it was possible for horses to do that.”
The black horse stomped his hoof, and Famine wondered if the being was as frustrated with their inability to communicate as he was. It didn’t seem fair that the horse could understand him, but that he couldn’t understand anything it might say to him. He wavered slightly as the stallion bumped him with his nose.
“Do you want me to get on you?”
His mount nodded, and he climbed astride once more. They trotted off, and he let his mind wander a little. Maybe after this last swing through South Africa and Botswana, he would take a small break. It wasn’t like the land would bounce back within minutes of his being gone. It would take years of constant rain for the ground to be fit to feed the millions of people living on the continent.
Famine didn’t know how long they’d ridden, but finally his stallion stopped and looked down into a crevice. Famine dismounted, and went to the edge. He tried to find what the horse was looking at.
Finally, movement caught his eye, and he gasped as he spotted the dirt-covered man curled at the bottom of the small gorge.
“What the hell?” Famine shared a look with his horse. “I wonder how he managed to get down there.”
If his horse could have shrugged, Famine was sure it would have. Famine glanced around to see if he could find a way down to the man without doing damage to himself. He couldn’t die, but he could still get hurt and he didn’t like the inconvenience of having to heal. He saw a narrow trail leading down to the bottom of the gorge. He guessed it might have been made by some kind of animal, but Famine wasn’t going to worry about it as long as he got to the mortal without hurting himself.
“Stay here. I’ll go down and see if he’s still alive,” Famine told his stallion.
Famine inched his way down the trail, holding on to any rock or root he could to keep his balance. He slid the last couple of feet, his sandals not really made for traction. Thudding to a stop, he dropped to his knees next to the man, and ignored the sharp pains shooting through his legs.
“Hey, are you alive?”
Famine thought about hitting himself in the forehead for asking such a stupid question. If he was dead, he certainly wouldn’t be able to tell Famine that. He reached out and laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. The guy jerked like he’d been shot, and moaned.
“Guess that means you’re still alive,” Famine muttered. “I’m going to try and roll you over. I need to see how badly hurt you are.”
The injured man shook his head. “Arm stuck.”
“Your arm’s stuck? Where? Underneath you?”
“Yes,” the man croaked.
Famine frowned. “Fudge.”
The stranger started to say something, but ended up coughing. Every harsh exhale of breath racked his frail, thin body. Famine cringed, not liking the sound of his breathing. He reached for his side, and huffed. Of course, he’d left his canteen at the top of the hill with his horse.
He glanced up to see his stallion peering over the edge at him. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in tossing down my canteen.”
His mount didn’t move, and he grunted before turning back to look at the man. “I didn’t think he would.”
As he contemplated just how to move the injured stranger without wrenching off his arm, something hit Famine on the top of his head. He rubbed it while turning to find his canteen on the ground next to him.
“Thank you,” he yelled. A snort was all he got in return.
He removed the top and managed to turn the man’s head enough for him to pour some water into his mouth.
“Just a little bit to begin with. I don’t want you to get sick.” Famine wiped some of the dirt off the man’s face. “My name is Fami. Can you tell me yours?”
The man gulped down some more water before nodding his head. “Yes. I’m Ekundayo.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Ekundayo. Here, have a little more. Then we’ll figure out how to get you out of here.” Famine tipped the canteen slightly, letting more water roll from it. He had no need of water, but carried a canteen in case he ran across someone who did.
After giving Ekundayo some more to drink, Famine put the top back on and set the canteen aside. He eased Ekundayo on to his side, studying the way the man’s arm was trapped. Any way Famine tried, he couldn’t work out a plan to get Ekundayo’s arm out. Not even with breaking it.
“Shit. I don’t know what to do. How do I do this without cutting it off?” he muttered to himself.
“No,” Ekundayo shouted, not quite as loudly as he probably wished he could, but Famine got the point.
“I know you don’t want me to do that, but I don’t have any way to get you free.” Famine trailed his fingers over Ekundayo’s arm, down into the opening where Ekundayo’s wrist and hand were stuck.
“If you cut off my arm, I won’t be able to find work. I need to work, or else I won’t eat.”
“Looks like you haven’t been eating as it is.” Famine eyed the thin body hidden by the oversized T-shirt Ekundayo wore.
Ekundayo closed his eyes and shrugged. “There are children who need to eat more than I. I wouldn’t deny them food.”
“That’s noble of you, but I’m not sure starving yourself to save the children is the best way to help them.” Famine looked around.
Maybe if he had a hammer or a pickaxe, he could chip away some of the rock around Ekundayo’s arm. He snorted silently. Right, and where would he find such an object? They weren’t close enough to the diamond mines to have stray tools lying around.
Something came tumbling down into the crevice and hit him in the shoulder. Famine winced and shot a disgruntled look up at the top. His horse no longer stood there, but he wasn’t worried. The stallion would show up when he needed him.
A large rock sat near Famine, and he realised it was what had hit him. It looked like someone had chipped away at the edges to make a very crude hammer. Well, at the moment, beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Famine didn’t want to have to figure out how to cut Ekundayo’s arm off.
“Close your eyes, and keep your head turned away,” Famine ordered Ekundayo. “I’ll be as careful as I can, but I don’t want to hurt you.”
Ekundayo opened his eyes for a second, and Famine was struck by Ekundayo’s rather unusual red hazel eyes. They reminded him of the shaman who’d killed him all those centuries ago. Some emotion flashed between them before Ekundayo nodded.
“All right. I don’t have a choice except to trust you,” he said.
“I could have just left you here, and let the animals take care of you,” Famine pointed out.
Ekundayo sighed, and Famine could see he was running out of energy and strength. “I know, and I thank you for helping me. Please do what you can.”
Famine waited until Ekundayo’s face was turned away before he started chipping at the broken line in the rock. He needed only a little more space to be able to free Ekundayo from his prison. He grasped the rock in his right hand, and covered Ekundayo’s arm as best he could with his left. It didn’t matter if he got cut himself, he would heal; but Ekundayo’s health was compromised, and any injury could be deadly.
Sharp pieces of rock and dirt flew into the air as Famine brought his makeshift hammer down on the crack as close to Ekundayo’s wrist as he could. He squinted against the barrage of rock chipping off the hard clay each time he struck. Being stronger than a normal mortal, Famine made fast progress, but he stopped every few minutes to check on Ekundayo.
“I think it’ll only be one more strike, and we’ll be able to get your wrist and hand out of there,” he reassured Ekundayo.
He didn’t say anything, and Famine wasn’t sure if he was even conscious any more. The sun beat down from directly overhead and the walls reflected the heat towards the ground where they sat. While the high temperature didn’t affect Famine, he could still feel it soaking into the dirt and rock around them. Soon it would be as warm as an oven, so Famine needed to get Ekundayo out before he cooked.
Two more blows did it, and Famine eased Ekundayo’s hand from where it’d been trapped. It was swollen and red. Famine wasn’t a doctor, but he figured it was probably broken as well. He quickly checked Ekundayo all over to make sure there weren’t any other serious injuries before he turned his attention to getting them out of there.