The Death of the Mantis (33 page)

After half an hour, they stopped to give Tau a break. Wrestling
with the wheel was hard work, and Tau was dripping, as was Kubu.
Tau took advantage of the stop to stand on top of the vehicle and
scour the landscape with his binoculars to see whether he could see
any
koppies
, small or large. Kubu, of course, refused to
scramble on to the roof for fear of damaging government property.
Khumanego just shook his head. “It’s still too far,” he said, but
wouldn’t elaborate when they asked how far it was. He seemed to be
getting increasingly withdrawn, and said little.

After another half an hour, Khumanego asked Tau to stop at the
top of a small rise. “Your map says we should go in that
direction,” the Bushman said, pointing to the south-east. “There is
nothing there. I know it well. We should go further east, in that
direction. We’ll have a better chance there, I think.”

“But what about the GPS track? Of the students who died? They
were further south.”

“But you don’t know if they were murdered, do you? You’re just
speculating again. Another death by a poison used by Bushmen.
Therefore it must have been a Bushman. Right? That’s how you are
thinking. You’ve become one of them, David. You’re no longer a
friend of the Bushmen.”

Kubu lost his temper. “Damn it, Khumanego! I’m not one of
them
, whoever
they
are. And I’m not one of
you
, either. I’m a police detective, and I’m trying to catch
a vicious murderer – maybe a gang. I’m interested in facts. I don’t
make them up. And I don’t believe them unless I have double-checked
them, if that’s possible.”

“If you trust me, you’ll go in that direction. If you don’t, why
did we come on this trip in the first place? We might as well have
relaxed at the camp. Going east is where we’ll find the hills I
remember.”

Kubu was in a quandary. Khumanego was asking him to deviate from
the planned route. But of all of them, only the Bushman knew this
area. Not from maps, but by having spent time here, by being here.
He didn’t need maps; indeed, didn’t really see the point of them.
To him the desert was a map unto itself.

Eventually Kubu decided he had to trust Khumanego’s knowledge.
They would follow his directions.

♦

About an hour later, Khumanego asked Tau to stop. He walked a
couple of hundred metres up a slight slope and waved for the other
two to follow. When they arrived, he pointed to the horizon.

“See those black lines?” he asked. “Those are a small range of
hills. That’s where I’m taking you.”

“What’s there?” Kubu asked, out of breath.

“I don’t know. I’ve not been there. My people regard them as
sacred. We are not allowed to go there.”

“Have you heard anything about them? Could there be precious
stones there?”

“I’ve heard nothing, so I can’t answer you. Wait a minute, I’ll
go and get your binoculars. Then we can take a better look.”

Khumanego loped off towards the vehicle.

“What do you think?” Kubu asked Tau.

“I think we should go back to the others. It’s getting late.
When the new vehicles reach us, we can come back here and
investigate.” He hesitated. “About Khumanego, I don’t know what to
think. I don’t know whether to believe anything he says. Sometimes
he’s easy to read. Sometimes I can’t tell whether he is lying or
telling the truth.”

“We were close friends when we were young,” Kubu said. “We were
both bullied and teased a lot. Me for my size. Him for his race. It
was a bad time for both of us. His friendship means a lot to
me.”

As Kubu turned to see where Khumanego was, he heard the Land
Rover start. Kubu was stunned, but Tau realised what was happening
at once and sprinted towards the vehicle, shouting, “Stop, you
bastard! Stop!”

He was still a hundred metres from the Land Rover when it
started moving and roared away. He pulled his gun from its holster
and fired at the vehicle, but he knew it would be in vain. The
distance was too great.

“Bastard! He’s leaving us to die.” Tau was drenched from his
short run in the scorching sun.

“He’ll be back,” Kubu said doubtfully. “Maybe he’s just taking a
look around.”

“Bengu!” shouted Tau. “Wake up! You’re a fool! Khumanego has led
us by the nose. The broken-down vehicle. The deviation from the
proper route. It’s all been planned. And you fell for it! You’re
the reason we’re going to die! Believing a Bushman? You must be
mad! You can’t trust anything they say.”

Kubu looked down the hill and watched the dust settle from the
speeding vehicle. This wasn’t possible! Khumanego wouldn’t leave
them in the desert with no water, no food, no shelter from the sun.
Tau was still talking, but Kubu wasn’t listening. Why would
Khumanego do it? Khumanego was his friend! It made no sense,
unless… unless somehow he was connected to the murders. And in that
case, Tau was right; they’d been left to die.

Kubu swallowed. His stomach ached, and he could feel a headache
coming on. Think! he said to himself. Think! Keep your head, and
you’ll get out of here. Panic, and you’re dead.

Tau grabbed Kubu’s shoulder and shook it repeatedly. “We’re
going to die, Bengu. All because you believed a Bushman! It’s your
fault. It’s your fault.”

Kubu came to life. He brushed Tau’s arm aside.

“Calm down, Tau,” he hissed. “If we panic, we
will
die.”

“He’s taken all the water. You can’t live without water. The
radios, too. And they don’t know where we are! They won’t be able
to find us.”

“Listen to me. We can get out of this. I know how to survive in
the desert. They’ll find us in a day or two at most. Just believe
me, and we’ll be okay.” Kubu didn’t feel as confident as he
sounded, but he needed to get Tau under control.

“Come on, Tau. Come with me.” He grabbed Tau’s arm and pulled
him in the direction of where the Land Rover had been. “First thing
is we have to get out of the sun. Otherwise we’ll go mad. We’ll sit
there in the shade for half an hour, then we’ll be calm and we can
work out what to do. Come on!”

Kubu dragged Tau to the small trees that offered a little
shade.

“Half an hour, Tau. In half an hour we’ll figure out how to get
out of here.” He collapsed on the ground, head and stomach aching.
“We’ll get out of this. Just keep calm.”

He sat on the sand and let his head drop into his hands. It was
time to put his mind to work.

∨
The Death of the Mantis
∧

W
hen Kubu lifted his
head, he understood his predicament and knew what they must do.

The situation was dire. Nobody knew where they were. It’s Friday
afternoon now, he thought. When he didn’t report that evening,
Edison would check with the other Land Rover, and when they told
him he hadn’t returned, he’d report to Mabaku that they’d lost
contact. He wondered what Mabaku would do. Probably nothing until
tomorrow morning, because it was so difficult to arrange anything
after hours.

And the relief Land Rovers couldn’t reach them before Sunday
night, even if they knew where to go, which they didn’t. So it was
unlikely that they could be rescued before Monday at the
earliest.

Kubu thought back to his survival course. “A human can survive
three to five days without water depending on the conditions,” the
instructor – a humourless ex-Special Forces sergeant major from the
British armed forces – had told them. “You can live for weeks
without food, but only days without water. Don’t forget that. Be
prepared.”

Monday evening was three days away.

Tuesday evening was four.

And if they weren’t found by Wednesday evening, it would be too
late.

And they were not prepared. They had no water, no food, no
tools, no shelter, no blankets. Nothing! So even Tuesday evening
might be too late.

Khumanego had certainly planned this well, Kubu thought. He’d
been blinded by his affection and friendship for the Bushman. Why
hadn’t he questioned Khumanego’s motivation – the sudden change of
heart, volunteering to lead them to the
koppies
? He’d let
his emotions override his brain. Suddenly he remembered the boot
prints in the desert near where Monzo had died. Supposedly the
Bushman group had discovered them, but the exchange between
Khumanego and the other Bushmen had all been in their own language,
and it was Khumanego who had led the detectives to the prints. His
heart sank. It
was
his fault. Tau had a right to scream at
him.

But screaming was not going to save them. Thinking was.

“Tau!” Kubu said loudly. “Tau, listen to me!”

Tau was lying on his side in the sand like a baby, clutching his
knees to his chest.

“Tau! Sit up. We need to talk.”

Slowly Tau stirred and sat up. Kubu could see the stress in his
face and the hostility in his eyes.

“Tau. It
is
my fault we’re here. I’m sorry for that. But
now we’ve got to get out and capture Khumanego. If he isn’t the
murderer, he knows who is.”

Tau nodded without saying a word.

“Our best chance is to stay here. The tyre tracks lead here.
They are what the others will look for and follow. Our greatest
danger is dehydration. We must do everything we can to conserve
water.”

“We don’t have any water!” Tau growled.

“In our bodies, I mean. We must minimise our sweating. Move as
little as possible during the hot hours, and try and find some
better shade than this.” Kubu looked at the meagre foliage of the
surrounding trees.

“Just wait to die, you mean!”

“No, no. Doing nothing is a positive step. It’s not giving up.
It gives us the best chance to get out of here. I took a survival
course from an ex-British Special Forces instructor – best in the
business. Stay put is what he told us. As soon as you start
wandering off, you make it harder for the rescuers. He also said
that you should build a nest – make yourself as comfortable as
possible. It helps you mentally as well as physically.”

Kubu pointed at the sun, which was sinking rapidly towards the
horizon. “It’s going to be dark soon. Before the light goes, we
should build a better canopy in this tree. That’ll help with the
sun tomorrow.”

He walked to some scraggly bushes nearby and started breaking
off branches with leaves, sometimes standing on them where they
joined the trunk if he couldn’t break them off by hand.

“Come on, Tau,” he shouted. “Don’t just sit there. We’ve got to
protect ourselves from the sun. Come and help.”

Tau shrugged his shoulders, but didn’t move.

Kubu tried a couple more times to motivate his colleague, to no
avail. Exasperated, he turned away and concentrated on what he was
doing. After fifteen minutes he had gathered quite a pile, which he
carried back to the small trees where Tau was still sitting. He
then wove them into the branches. When he had finished it was
almost dark, and he was satisfied that they would have better shade
the next day.

He turned to Tau. “It’s going to get cold tonight, Tau, probably
down to ten degrees, maybe colder. We should sleep next to each
other to use each other’s warmth.”

Tau shook his head. “I’ll sleep over there,” he said, pointing
at another clump of trees about fifty metres away.

“Don’t be stupid. It’s important that we stay right together.
Not only for body heat, but in case something attacks us at night –
a hyena or lion. We’ve got handguns. We may need them, but it won’t
be much use if we’re far apart and possibly shooting at each other
in the dark. We should also try to shoot an animal or large bird,
if we can. We can eat the meat and drink the blood. That’ll help.
Tomorrow we’ll try to find some
tsama
melons and tubers. I
know how to do that.”

Kubu could see the fear in Tau’s eyes. He might have been
brought up in the Kalahari, Kubu thought, but he’s clearly afraid
of it. “Don’t panic, Tau. We’ve got to keep calm, even if we’re
terrified. Panicking will only create more problems.”

♦

When Edison didn’t receive the call from Kubu at six p.m., he
decided to wait half an hour before doing anything. When he hadn’t
heard by six thirty, he phoned the other satellite phone. Sergeant
Pikati answered almost immediately.

“Kubu?”

“No, it’s Edison. Where’s Kubu?”

Pikati recounted what Kubu had done. When he hadn’t returned by
dusk, they’d tried reaching him by both radio and satellite phone
but hadn’t been successful. They wanted to know what to do.

Edison said he’d speak to Mabaku and phone them back.

♦

“I should fire him,” Mabaku exploded when Edison told him about
Kubu’s trip into the desert. “I told him not to do anything stupid,
and now he’s gone off with only one vehicle. Idiot!”

“I need to phone the others back and let them know what to
do.”

Mabaku leant back and pondered his options. “Tell them to
monitor their satellite phone all night and check in first thing in
the morning. They should continue to try and contact Kubu, and if
they hear from him, they’re to contact you immediately. If you hear
anything, phone me, no matter what the time. In the meantime, get
hold of the back-up group and tell them to be ready to leave as
soon as possible.”

“What do you think’s happened?”

“We’ve already had one breakdown, so it’s possible that Kubu’s
vehicle did the same. But then to have his phone not work as well
is highly unlikely. I don’t like the smell of this, but there’s not
a lot we can do until morning.”

♦

Neither Kubu nor Tau slept much that night. Both were miserable,
tossing and turning as they tried to find a comfortable position in
the sand, and both were scared – scared of what animals might be
wandering close to them; scared of their predicament. To make
things worse, as the night wore on, the desert cold took a deeper
and deeper hold on their bodies, causing them to shiver, sometimes
uncontrollably.