Fatal Harvest (31 page)

He had made up his mind to take care of a few things once he got back to Chicago. Agrimax needed a clean sweep—more thorough background checks of all employees and better technological security. Vince would put these things into place immediately.

Most important, he would ax Harwood and replace him with someone who could do the job. Someone tougher. Someone he could trust to nip problems in the bud.

The image of the boy, Matthew Strong, was imprinted on Vince’s brain. Harwood’s file contained six photographs lifted from various sources. Unlike Vince’s own son, who was handsome and athletic and who possessed his father’s gifts of charm and charisma, Matthew Strong could clearly be labeled a geek. A nerd. A loser. He had blue eyes and long, curly black hair that hung well below his ears, and he wore the same out-of-style tie in every photo. Acne-spotted, his long, thin face and his skin looked sallow.

But it was the hint of self-satisfied piety in the boy’s eyes that haunted Vince at night when he tried to sleep. What a pleasure it would be to watch the light of holiness fade from those blue eyes. The little pest needed to be taught a lesson in the way the world worked. With murder and theft charges awaiting him, Matthew Strong would have many years to think about it as he read his Bible in a prison cell. And if he never made it safely back to the States, justice would be served.

“I’m hungry, dude.” Seated on the hard ground, Billy leaned back against the mud wall of a hut at the edge of the makeshift refugee village. “I can’t believe those boys over there are playing soccer. All they’ve eaten for months is peanuts.”

“And that sorghum junk.” Matt licked his dry teeth. They felt sticky and gross. He turned his head toward his friend, who was sitting beside him in the scant shade of the hut’s thatched roof. Billy’s jeans were filthy, and his feet were covered with dust and bites from the tiny red ticks that peppered the grass. Two days before, in a small village they passed, Billy bought a pair of sandals made from the rubber tread of car tires. His sneakers had started rubbing blisters on his heels, but the sandals were worse.

“How long since we left the boat?” Billy asked.

“We crossed the border into Sudan on Friday. Today
is…” Matt looked up at the sky and calculated. “Sunday. Sunday morning.”

“If we were at home on a Sunday morning, we’d be in church. Our youth group would be in the fellowship center right now.”

“Yeah. Eating doughnuts.”

“Don’t remind me!” Billy groaned. “Dude, do you think that guy is really going to bring a bicycle?”

Matt shook his head, feeling bummed. “I don’t think so. I bet he took our money to buy peanuts for his family. He’s not going to bring us a bicycle or anything else. I think we’re gonna have to walk to Rumbek.”

“Walk?” Billy groaned again, louder this time. “I can’t walk. We walked for two whole days just to get to this village. And all we’ve had to eat ever since we got off the boat is peanuts.”

“And that sorghum junk,” Matt reminded him. “I guess we ought to be thankful though. At least we have something to eat.”

Billy gave a snort of disgust.

“Well, it’s better than most of these people. Did you see that kid eating grass? Leaves, too.”

“I’m gonna die,” Billy said. “I’m gonna totally keel over and die right here in this village in the middle of nowhere.”

“You’re not gonna die.”

“Yeah, I am. I’m so thirsty.” He grunted. “How can they play soccer? It’s blistering hot, and they only ate peanuts!”

Matt rolled his head back around to face the open ground where barefoot boys kicked a ball that had long ago lost its leather covering. They laughed and ran back and forth, as though this game was the most fun they’d had in months. And it probably was. A few of them who spoke English had told Matt they had been soldiers until a couple of weeks ago. Soldiers! And they were younger than Billy and he.

“We’re gonna die, both of us,” Billy said in a wavering voice. “Just like Madame Loiseau told us.”

Matt grimaced. They were both suffering from the hunger,
thirst, blisters, ticks, and mosquitoes that had plagued them ever since they got off the boat and walked across the border from Uganda into Sudan. It was hard to see Billy in such bad shape. His best friend looked saggy and sick and totally defeated. The excitement of their adventure had ended long ago, and in only two days in the African bush, life had become a matter of survival.

That’s all either of them could think about. The USB key and the mission to save the hungry paled in the face of this all-consuming thirst and hunger. Matt laid his hand over the small hard lump in his jeans pocket. God had brought him so far. The refugee camp at Rumbek lay only twenty miles from this village. But they wouldn’t make it. They couldn’t. It was impossible.

“You honestly don’t think that guy will bring a bicycle, Mattman?” Billy mumbled in disbelief. “We paid him thirty bucks! That was the last of our American dollars.”

“I think we got stiffed.”

“How hard can it be to get a bike?” Billy groused. “I have three old bikes in my garage. Just sitting around getting dusty!”

“Do you see any bicycles in Sudan?” Matt asked. “Do you see any cars? Any trucks? Do you see food or crops or livestock or shops or any
normal
things? No! Nothing! This place is a desert.”

“Mellow out,” Billy snapped at him.

“Yeah, right. Like you haven’t been griping ever since we got to Africa.”

Billy leaned his head back on the wall of the hut. “Aw, Mattman, just try to relax. Just try to stay alive, like you promised Madame Loiseau, okay?”

Matt looked across at Billy, who was swallowing hard, obviously trying not to cry. His parched lips were trembling. Matt patted him on the back. “It’s okay, Billy,” he said. “We’ll be all right.”

“I’m never gonna see my house again. Or my mom. I even miss my little sister. And my dad. I don’t know why I did such a dumb thing. I don’t know why I came with you. Stupid!”

“Hey, man, don’t freak out, okay?” Matt patted him on the back some more, this time a little harder. “You came because you wanted to help me find Josiah Karume, remember? And that’s what you’re doing. You’re helping me, just like you always have. You found the guy who sold us those peanuts. You tried to buy a bicycle. And now, we’re both just going to have to figure out how to take the next step.”

“I can’t take another step,” Billy said. “You saw my feet, dude. The blisters have popped, and my skin is all raw and bloody.”

Matt studied his best friend’s tick-bitten legs, blistered feet and sunburned nose. A tear had escaped his eye and started down his cheek. What was Matt going to do if Billy really did die? He couldn’t even think about it.

“Look, Billy,” he said, giving his friend’s shoulder a shove, “stop moaning. You’re a really strong guy, and you can’t let this stuff get you down.”

“I’m not strong,” Billy mumbled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I’m weak.”

“No, you’re not. You’re the person I’ve always counted on, right?”

“Yeah, so what? You can’t count on me now. I can’t even stand up.”

“Yes, you can. You know why? Because you’re like my mom.”

“Your
mom?
” Billy frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“She was really strong down inside. But when she first found out she had cancer, she cried all the time and got depressed. I remember it—it was awful. She said she didn’t
want to die and leave my dad and me. She wanted to see me grow up—she wanted to hold her grandbabies. All that. Later on, though, after she got used to the idea of having cancer, her strength came back. She had a lot of faith in God, see. Not faith that she’d get well, but she believed He was with her through all the pain and sadness. And she knew He was going to be with my dad and me after she was gone. That was really important for me to see—how she got through it all because of the strength inside her.”

“Is that how come you wear this dirty old tie?” Billy picked up the end of Matt’s tie and studied it sadly. “To remind you of how strong she was?”

“Partly.”

“I don’t have that kind of strength, Matt. Strength from God. I’m too hungry.”

“I don’t think God takes hunger and suffering away,” Matt said. He had thought about this a lot. “Not always. My mom didn’t get well. That’s not the deal God promised. It’s like the Twenty-third Psalm, you know? We don’t get to avoid the valley of the shadow of death. But while we’re walking through it, we don’t have to be afraid because He stays close beside us. His rod and His staff protect and comfort us.”

“Mattman, you’re gonna be a preacher one of these days,” Billy said. “All I can think about is that feast He’s prepared for me in the presence of my enemies. Where’s the food? I’m ready to eat! Lord, send down the manna!”

Matt couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “You idiot.”

“Hey, here comes that kid who keeps asking us to play soccer. Why don’t you see if we can get some more peanuts?”

“Hello, Santino,” Matt said as the boy approached. Earlier that day, Santino had told them he was fifteen, but he looked about ten. He had narrow eyes and very white teeth, and he seemed to think these two white boys sitting on the ground in his village were pretty hilarious.

“Why you cannot play football with us?” Santino asked. “Come!”

“We can’t.” Matt had already told him this, but it wasn’t getting through. “We’re too weak. Our feet hurt, and we’re hungry. Besides, we need to go to Rumbek.”

Santino grinned, his teeth gleaming in his ebony face. “You gave your money to Aken Amuon for a bicycle!”

At this, he bent over and laughed as though this was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. His pals had edged closer by this time, and they all joined in, yukking it up—ha ha ha.

Matt looked over at Billy, who was scowling, then back at the boys. “If you give us peanuts,” Matt suggested, “we’ll play football with you. American football.”

“American football?” Santino’s dark eyes widened. “Can you teach baseball?”

“Yeah, and basketball. But—” Matt thought for a moment “—but we don’t have time for that because we need to get to Rumbek. Do you know the way to Rumbek?”

“Of course!” Santino chuckled. “It is there.” He pointed off in the direction of the same nothingness that surrounded the whole village.

“We don’t know the way. And we can’t walk that far because of our sore feet. So I guess we’ll just sit here and not teach you how to play American baseball or football or basketball.”

Santino spoke to his buddies, and they all chattered for a while. They pointed one direction and then another. They yelled at each other, shoving back and forth. And finally Santino stepped out of the group.

“Why do you tell us a lie, American boy?” he asked Matt. “You say you come to Sudan to feed us, but you have no peanuts even for yourselves.”

This was a logical question, and Matt realized how dumb he and his companion must look to these natives. “I don’t have food, but I have this,” he said, taking the USB key from
his pocket. “This is a machine with secrets inside it. And this machine may help bring food to Sudan. I have to take it to Rumbek and give it to Josiah Karume, the director of I-FEED.”

“This is a machine?” Santino peered at the key. “It is a gun?”

“No, it’s part of a computer.”

“Computer? I do not know this machine.”

“It’s very powerful.”

“Ah.” Santino explained this to his comrades. Then he nodded at Matt. “You may teach us to play American football, and then we shall take you to Rumbek.”

“No way. You take us to Rumbek, and then we’ll teach you how to play football.”

“Eh!” Santino smacked him on the back. “Good! You come now.”

He and the other boys filed off toward one of the huts in the distance. Matt helped Billy to his feet, and they stepped out of the shade and into the blazing sunlight.

“Do you think they’ve got a car in that hut?” Billy asked.

“I don’t know.” Matt stepped gingerly, trying not to injure his feet further. “I hope it’s—”

“Oh, boy. Oh, great.” Billy stopped in his tracks. “What is that thing?”

“A horse.” Matt laughed. “I think it’s a horse!”

Santino proudly led the bony animal across the clearing. The other boys wheeled out a small cart made of tree branches and bare bicycle tire rims. They hitched the horse to the cart with ropes and pointed for the boys to climb in.

“This horse I capture from the
mujahideen
,” Santino explained. “After my village was attacked and my parents were killed, I was taken by the
mujahideen
to be a slave.”

“A slave?” Billy turned to Matt. “I thought slavery was abolished.”

“In America, dude.”

“My work was to tend the horses of the
mujahideen
who raid the villages,” Santino continued. “One night, I steal this horse and escape. This is now my horse.”

He looked so proud of the broken-down old animal that Matt wanted to laugh. But he knew this was serious business. “Are you guys going to walk?” he asked.

“We walk.” Smiling, Santino dug around in his pocket and pulled out a handful of roasted peanuts. He offered them to Matt and Billy, and then he beckoned his friends. “Let us go to Rumbek and learn to play American football!”