The Lion Killer (The Dark Continent Chronicles) (30 page)

Fascination with the crash caused a lull in the shooting. Sporadic shots were followed by an eerie calm. With their leader down, the Arabs lost their will to fight. Those who could ride away did so. A few injured raiders were left behind to fend for themselves.

No cheering erupted from the camp. What had happened was too horrific. Spooner and Dutchy helped Arthur set up a triage tent for the wounded.

At the end of the day, Rigby radioed Otto, who was already flying back to the camp with Helen, Lynn and the Italian nurse. He landed two hours later. The three women went to work, treating the injured.

***

Just before sundown, Rigby and Dutchy found Jesse sitting in the sand against the side of a truck. Rigby kneeled down on one knee and offered him a cigarette. Jesse took it, but his hands were shaking so badly he had trouble holding the match. Rigby steadied his hands. “How're you feeling?” He reached down and picked up the fifty-caliber rifle. He checked to make sure it wasn't loaded and carefully placed it in the back of the truck. “Jesse, you did good today.”

“I guess you saw the lion on the helicopter?” Jesse asked.

“I saw it.”

“It's not like it is in movies, is it, Rigby?”

“No, it isn't.” He handed Jesse his bottle of whiskey. “Have a swig. It'll settle the old nerves.” Without hesitating, Jesse took a long swallow. He gagged, but forced it down.

“Do you think the Sudanese Army will retaliate?” he asked.

“No, I reckon they've blown their cover. For years, the Sudanese have insisted the Janjaweed was acting alone. I've got pictures of the downed helicopters. We need to get these photos to the American Embassy in Kampala,” he said, holding up a camera. “This implicates the Sudanese government. In a few days, these pictures will be shown all over the world.”

Rigby and Dutchy sat down in the sand. He took another pull of whiskey before handing the bottle back to Jesse. “I told the American ambassador I was confused about my purpose here in Africa. I was duped.”

“Jesse, you're a bloody cynic. The Sudanese government has got to stop the killing. That's gotta be satisfying.”

“Look at Arthur Turner,” Jesse said, pointing. “He's treating the wounded Arabs and the refugees like they were his children. Meeting Turner makes you proud to be a part of the human race.” Jesse shaded his eyes and looked out at the desert. “Wonder what'll become of Max.”

Rigby spit in the dirt. “I have a feeling it won't be good.”

“I think maybe he ends up in a hyena's belly,” Dutchy said.

“In the end, all living things are consumed by blowflies, including hyenas.” Rigby squinted at the horizon. He sighed and whispered, “Max, too bad you didn't stick around. Sam and I had plans for you.”

***

Max Turner and his bodyguard had trouble following the desert trail. As they got closer to the Ugandan border, the first seasonal rains caught them. The rain washed away the road. By the second day, they were lost. By the third day, they ran out of fuel. Max sent Bob to find help. When he didn't return the next day, Max panicked and set out on his own. The first rains to reach the Darfur were light. The parched sand absorbed the moisture like a sponge causing the desert to return to its harshness. The land showed no signs of life. Without water, Max started hallucinating. Too exhausted to walk, he passed out under a desert acacia.

At first he thought he was paralyzed, but then he realized he had been tied to a tree. His neck was secured so tightly he couldn't turn his head. His hands had been lashed behind him and his ankles were bound. He could see a smoldering campfire with two men dressed in black robes sitting with their backs to him. Beyond the campfire, there was a camel.

“Help me!” he screamed. His voice was feeble.

His captors stood over him speaking to each other. One man pulled Max's toupee off and handed it to his friend. The man stuck the hairpiece on his head and danced around the fire. Both men slapped their thighs and laughed.

“Let me go and I'll make you both rich,” Max pleaded. They answered him in a language he didn't understand.

The larger man squatted in front of Max. He pulled back his sleeve showing he was wearing Max's Rolex watch. He reached over and pulled up his friend's robe. Max recognized his bodyguard, Bob's hiking boots. This time, his voice was shriller. “Untie me, you fucking savages.”

One of them dumped a powdery substance into a cup of water. The Arab smiled as he kneeled in front of Max. He encouraged him to drink by holding the dented cup to his lips. Turner was so thirsty, he greedily gulped it down. The man wearing the toupee stuffed a gag between Max's teeth.

One man came forward with something he had taken from his saddlebag. It was a faded photograph of an Arab boy. Max had no way of knowing it was the man's son and that the boy had been killed during the attack. When the Arabs found Max and his bodyguard, both were carrying M-24 sniper rifles. The men were sure Max and Bob were responsible for the boy's death.

Max felt lightheaded. He couldn't stop staring at the camel chewing its cud. The animal's lower jaw moved sideways and independently from its upper teeth. The man with the picture smiled as he pulled a short, sickle-shaped knife from its sheath. He held it up, letting the hooked blade glimmer in the campfire light. He licked the blade and shaved the hair on his arm. Max squirmed against his bindings as the man reached down and slowly unbuttoned Max's pants.

“Don't touch me. Don't do this.” He cringed and fainted when the man laid the cold knife blade on his penis. With the dexterity of a surgeon, the man opened a small incision just above Max's pubic hair. He stuck his finger into Max's abdomen and pulled out a small section of his entrails. His friend handed him a stick, which he placed behind the protruding intestine to prevent it from reentering the stomach wall. Satisfied with their surgery, the Arabs kicked sand on the fire and led their camel into the night.

***

Max was awakened by a noise. The hair on his neck bristled. He heard giggling. The moonshine illuminated sets of glowing eyes bobbing and weaving. There were shadowy figures moving around him. He smelled something rotten. An animal was breathing in his face. The stench was so hot and putrid it made him dry heave.

Lightning snapped and crackled across the sky. In a flash, he saw death. The hyena's snout was a few centimeters from Max's face. Long stringy ropes of drool hung from her massive jaws as she sniffed him. He kicked at her, but his feet were tied. He screamed, but his shrieking was soundless. His eyes were wild with terror. Hunger drove the hyenas into a tighter circle. The big female's belly rumbled as she licked Max's open wound. She nipped at the fleshy bulge protruding from his stomach. Getting no response, she clamped down and raced away, dragging Max's intestines behind her. Other members of the pack latched on, starting a game of tug of war.

Max felt no pain, only an emptying sensation. He was sure he wasn't meant to die. As he slipped into shock, he saw a black man beckoning him.

The hyenas devoured Max's body. A small male rolled on the greasy spot where Max had been consumed and another gnawed on his skullcap.

The alpha female loped along the edge of a dried riverbed. With her belly extended, her gait was troubled. She was heading to her den where she would regurgitate pieces of Max Turner for her hungry pups.

D
uring the mad scramble for Africa, which started in the 1880s, Europeans colonized parts of the continent without considering the repercussions from mixing peoples with vast cultural differences. Their miscalculations have caused genocides and civil wars.

Three great deserts—the Sahara, the Kalahari and the Namib— make up over one third of the African land mass. The Sahara alone is approximately the size of the United States. Much of the land is unfit for human habitation; as a result overpopulation continues to plague Africa. In some areas, a ten percent crop failure can produce a famine.

After the industrialized countries squander their own natural resources they will look to Africa. What will happen to the Africans?