The Prey (30 page)

‘Haha.’

‘She’s serious, but let’s go.’

Cameron took a carved wooden walking stick from an earthenware pot by the back door and Kylie followed suit. ‘Will these protect me from the buffalo?’

Cameron laughed. ‘No. Snakes, maybe, but if we come across an angry buffalo just climb the nearest tree.’

‘You’re joking, right?’

‘I never joke about buffalos.’

‘I might stay and study, too.’

‘Come.’

She followed him out the door, sticking close. The African bush wasn’t too different to some of the vegetation she had seen in northern Australia, but as Cameron led her onto the narrow path that followed the riverbank, she was acutely aware that there were many things out here that could kill her.

Cameron stopped and as he knelt down his shirt rode up a little and she could see the pistol tucked in the waistband of his jeans. It was a reminder that not all the danger around them moved on four legs. ‘Leopard. See the pug marks?’

She bent forward and saw the faint indentation on the ground. ‘Do they get lion here in Hippo Rock?’

‘Not often, but they’ve been known to cross from the Kruger Park on the other side of the river. There’s a low electric fence meant to deter the buffalo, hippo and elephant, but anything that can jump can get in here. We’ve also got a communal picnic site on the other side of the fence, on the banks of the river. That’s the place to watch out for the buffalo and any other nasties that might have crossed.’

‘It’s all so deadly, but beautiful at the same time.’

‘I know plenty of
okes
who have moved to Australia, but I could never leave all this – the bush.’

‘I’m beginning to understand how you feel,’ Kylie said.

As they walked, Cameron pointed out trees and their uses in traditional life and medicine, such as a giant leadwood whose ash could be used as a tooth-cleaning powder, and the gwarrie bush, whose chewed twig ends made a bush toothbrush. He showed her a paradise flycatcher, a beautiful bird with a blue head and orange body, and she learned the mournful cry that echoed along the river was that of the African fish eagle. One of the snowy-hooded eagles showed itself, diving out of a tree in front of them to swoop down and pluck a squirming barbel, a catfish, from a pool isolated from the main river in the course of the dry winter.

‘As the river drops, more stuff will begin crossing over here. Hippo Rock’s vegetation isn’t as overgrazed as in the park, and it’s too tempting for elephants to refuse in the dry season.’

She wondered what it might be like to live in a place where elephant, lion and leopard were your neighbours. The demarcated walking trail they were following took them away from the river for a while, around the outer edge of the estate. A herd of semi-tame zebra were grazing around another Hippo Rock house, two of the
gorgeous animals escaping the afternoon sun under the home’s carport. For the first time in her working life she felt guilty that her company, Global Resources, was going to destroy a small part of the natural environment. Jan was from this area; why had he made the decision to mine in a piece of pristine African bush? She knew it was all about economics and supply and demand, but did he feel nothing for this place?

‘You look concerned,’ Cameron said.

‘It’s nothing.’

‘You’re going all the way to the top, Kylie. Everyone in the company knows it. You’ll have to make plenty of tough decisions, unpopular decisions, in the name of business.’

She sighed. She had never questioned herself or Global Resources before. This continent had shaken her. ‘I want the best for the company, and for the local community that will benefit from the mine, but …’ She trailed off.

‘Maybe this land shouldn’t belong to anyone,’ said Cameron. ‘Not the whites who took it or the blacks who now want a turn at making money out of it. But that’s not for us to say. You’ll see when we get to Zambia; the government there is allowing exploration
inside
national parks because they need the money and they need the jobs. You understand our business – we dig stuff out of the ground. It’s messy but it’s essential.’

‘I know.’

When they got back to the house Cameron started a fire in the
boma
, which he said was a term for the fire pit encircled most of the way around by a waist-high brick wall. They sat on benches made from old railway sleepers, the four of them all lost in their own thoughts as Cameron
braaied
lamb chops and
boerewors
, the thick ‘farmer’s sausage’.

Luis was keeping to himself and Kylie knew Cameron was deliberately not pushing him. After eating dinner inside, the adults returned to the fire while Jess showered. ‘I will stay awake tonight,’ Luis said at last.

‘No,’ Cameron said. ‘You’ve had a harrowing day. I’ll take first shift and you will sleep. I’ll wake you when I get tired.’

Luis nodded, excused himself and went to his bedroom. ‘You’re making me nervous again,’ Kylie said, looking around her into the darkness beyond the ring of flickering firelight.

‘We’re fine. It’s just a precaution. We’re safe here.’

*

‘Kylie, I have to go. Please keep an eye on Jess while I’m gone.’

Kylie had stayed up with him the night before, until past midnight, and they had talked about their families and their lives, though not about Cameron’s wife. She had tried to raise the subject, asking him if he had heard from her, but he’d told her that he didn’t want to talk about it. She had backed off – it really was none of her business – but it had been nice to talk to him in a non-adversarial way for a change, and not about business.

She didn’t want him to leave them. It wasn’t that she was scared. It was more than that. ‘I know you have to go out, but yesterday you told me you didn’t want to let Jess out of your sight.’

‘I have to drive back to Barberton to visit Sipho’s family, and there are arrangements to make for Miriam’s body to be sent back to Mozambique,’ he reiterated.

Kylie almost said, ‘Coetzee can look after all that’, but she bit back the words. Cameron was no longer the mine manager, but she knew, as he did, that right now his promotion was in name only. The workers at the mine would expect him to be there, and from the little she had seen of Coetzee in action she now knew that Cameron would do a better job of this terrible business. Looking into his sad eyes she felt guilty that she had so quickly agreed with Jan that Cameron should be moved. She couldn’t tell Cameron but she knew Jan’s decision
was
in part because his wife had left him for another man. Jan had said Cameron’s staff – the males in particular – would not respect a cuckold, but Kylie had thought that was bullshit. Jan had also been critical of the spread
of illegal mining underground but Kylie now knew, first hand, that sometimes the only way to fight the
zama zamas
was on their own terms, with guns and explosives.

She had been wrong. About Cameron. About a lot of things.

What disturbed her, however, was that Cameron was choosing to do his moral duty at the mine rather than staying to protect his daughter. No, she corrected herself. What disturbed her, she realised, was that she would have done the exact same thing. He put a hand on her shoulder and she didn’t flinch.

‘If I move now I can be back by nightfall. I’ve given Luis the shotgun, and my pistol is in my bag. The house has an alarm that’s linked to the estate gate and security office; there’s a panic button on the alarm fob on the key ring. But believe me, you’ll all be safe. No one knows we’re here. It’s just a precaution.’

Kylie nodded. She and Jessica walked outside into the morning light and waved goodbye to Cameron. It was weird being alone with Jess, and Luis who said very little. They washed up after breakfast and Luis retreated to his room. Kylie made herself a coffee and a tea for Jess and they went out onto the deck. The Sabie River sparkled in front of them and Jess pointed out an elephant grazing in reeds on the far side.

‘What do you think about your father moving to a new job in Johannesburg?’ Kylie asked.

Jess shrugged her shoulders. ‘He wants to stay in Barberton. The mine means everything to him.’

Kylie sipped her coffee. ‘Is that a problem?’

Jess looked into her cup for a couple of seconds. ‘My mom hated it there. I still don’t know why she left, but maybe if we’d been in Joburg she would have been happier. But maybe not. I want what’s best for Dad, so if this promotion takes him away from Barberton, then maybe he can start over.’

‘What about you?’

She looked out at the elephant and then at Kylie. ‘I hate Johannesburg. All my friends are in Barberton and I love coming
to this place. But now my mom … I’d rather not talk about it.’

Jess got up and walked inside, leaving Kylie feeling like she’d overstepped an invisible line.

*

Cameron called at five. ‘Kylie, I’m sorry, but it’s been hectic here. Sipho’s wife was distraught; I spent two hours with her, and the NUM – the National Union of Miners – rep wanted a meeting. I’m at Nelspruit now at the Mozambican consulate trying to sort out the paperwork for the repatriation of Miriam’s body.’

The upshot was that Cameron would not make it back to Hippo Rock until eight o’clock at the earliest. Although the days in the lowveld were sunny and warm, the temperature dropped quickly with the passage of the sun, which set at half past five.

Inside, Jess took charge of the household and Kylie felt a bit redundant as the teenager asked Luis to light a fire in the fireplace and then started preparing a chicken curry. ‘There’ll be enough to reheat for Dad when he comes home.’

Kylie felt like a drink, but knew she should keep her wits about her. They were safe, she told herself, and no one in South Africa knew where they were. Luis went about the business of laying the fire in silence. He stayed kneeling by the fireplace, staring into the flames as the wood caught. Kylie felt terrible about what had happened to him, especially after he had saved their lives. She moved across the stone floor and placed a hand on his shoulder.

When he finally turned his face to her she saw the red-rimmed eyes. He stood and excused himself. He walked down the corridor to his room and Kylie heard the metallic snicker of the shotgun. While Jess’s curry was adding warmth to the house and clearing some of the mustiness, Kylie went to the open door of Luis’s room. He had removed all of the shotgun shells and was now in the process of replacing them, checking and familiarising himself with the weapon’s workings. He seemed to take some measure of solace in the methodical work, so she left him.

In Cameron and Jess’s room she saw Cameron’s bag. He had quickly changed shirts before leaving and his dirty one was lying on his bed. On impulse she picked it up.

‘What are you doing?’

Startled, Kylie turned to see Jess standing in the doorway, wooden spoon in hand. ‘Um, your dad asked me to get something from his bag. I just had to fight my way through his dirty laundry.’

The girl strode across the room and took the shirt from her, folding it and laying it on a chest of drawers. ‘I can take care of him, you know.’

‘I’m sure you can.’

Jess’s lower lip trembled. ‘I don’t hate you, you know.’

‘I’m pleased,’ Kylie said, although she tried to tell herself it didn’t matter what the girl thought of her.

‘It’s not like I don’t want him to see other women. I wish he would. And if we have to move to Jozi, then we’ll make the best of it. It’s just that … I … I hate her.’

Kylie opened her arms and the girl fell against her, sobbing into her breast. At first she didn’t know whether to hug her or not, but she enclosed Jess in an embrace and it felt OK. She did not consider herself an emotional person, and had never had an interest in having children of her own, but somehow this felt right, and she wanted to absorb some of Cameron’s daughter’s pain.

There was a cough behind them. Kylie looked over her shoulder and saw Luis, with the shotgun.

‘I will stay outside, until Mr McMurtrie comes back.’

‘No, it’s too cold, stay inside and have dinner with us,’ Kylie said.

‘Thank you, but no. Perhaps when he returns.’

Jess eased herself away from Kylie and wiped her nose and eyes with the back of her hand. ‘Here.’ She unzipped Cameron’s bag and pulled out a nylon rain jacket with a fleecy lining. ‘This will help keep you warm.’

Luis took the jacket, nodded his thanks and left them.

*

Luis could not explain to the woman and the girl why he felt uneasy. It had not been like this last night. McMurtrie was correct: he had been through hell yesterday and he was exhausted to the point of passing out. It was the mix of adrenaline, anguish, sorrow and hatred. It had left him feeling limp, and if it hadn’t been for Jose he would have taken McMurtrie’s gun and joined his beloved Miriam.

He had slept and been annoyed to wake the next morning and find that Cameron had not roused him for his shift. But then he had not felt like this last night.

Perhaps it was being back in the bush that had resurrected the dormant instincts that years of warfare in his homeland had honed. He could not shake the feeling he’d had all afternoon, that there was danger out there, far more deadly than any reptile or animal.

Luis patrolled the bush around the house silently. The moon was full, so he had no need of a torch. The gurgling waters of the Sabie glittered with the reflected white light. It was a poacher’s moon, a killer’s moon. The lights in the house went out, one by one. Luis checked his digital watch; it was just after eleven.

Although he knew that McMurtrie was probably right in thinking that Wellington could not know where they were, he also knew it was foolish to underestimate the Lion’s connections and persistence. Besides, he wanted the man to come to them. He wanted to see the bald-headed Zimbabwean kneeling before him, praying for mercy, and to stare into the killer’s eyes as he pulled the trigger on the shotgun. He had never taken joy in killing during the war, but he wanted that force of evil obliterated from the face and the bowels of the earth.

*

Wellington had driven through the afternoon from Maputo, crossing into South Africa at Komatipoort. From the Nelspruit bypass he turned north onto the R40 and headed through White River and Hazyview.