A woodpecker was hammering on a tree by the river bed. It sounded like my heart. Thud-thud-thud. I was not made for running, but my legs were doing the best they could. They just kept moving, one in front of the other, taking me away from that man. Away from that last steak that had fallen on the floor when I panned him.
The clouds had grown thick and dark, and I heard a rumbling.
Rain, I prayed, fall down. Fall down on me. Hide my tracks. Keep Jessie safe.
My tummy groaned. I hoped it was not a piece of Jessie that was groaning at me. You should never exercise straight after a meal. But my legs kept on going, taking me down to the cover of the trees.
When I was almost there, there was a crack and I jumped. My heart fluttered like a woodpecker’s wings. But I had not been shot. It was lightning.
Then I felt it. The rain. It fell hard, streaming down my face.
Thank you. Thank you, thank you.
I walked into the cover of the trees that lined the river bed. The wind roared through the leaves and shook the branches. I was hidden from the house, and I leaned against a camphor tree to catch my breath. My hands and teeth were shaking. I rubbed my arms with my hands.
Well done, Tannie Maria, my brain said. You are still alive. Maybe Jessie is too.
My tummy and the thunder rumbled together. My legs got me moving again. I walked down the narrow river bed, and the rain washed my tracks behind me. I headed south, in the direction of the gate, I hoped.
A rabbit shot out from beneath a big wolf-thorn bush. It raced towards me and I stood still so I wouldn’t frighten it. It swerved around me and headed up the river bed.
Then I saw what had given that a rabbit such a fright.
About ten metres ahead of me, he stepped out from beneath a thorn tree that was covered with yellow devil’s tresses. His hair was all mussed and his moustache was twisted in that sneer. The bow and arrow hung by his side.
Van Wyk shouted at me. It was hard to hear him over the storm, but he shouted again:
‘Run, Tannie, run!’
My body shook with fear, but I did not believe in running. And I especially didn’t believe in running as a favour for a murderer who wants a moving target.
He stepped over a slime-bush and shooed me with his hand. But I stood facing him, the rain running down my hair, my clothes sopping wet. He shook his head, and lifted his bow and arrow, waving them at me.
When I didn’t move, he walked backwards, further away. Ten metres was too easy for him. When he’d doubled the distance, he raised his bow again, put in the arrow, and pulled the string back.
In that tiny moment as his arm set the arrow free, my brain and body and heart all worked together and a strange thing happened. It is hard to describe but I can only try.
The cold and the fear had been shaking me like a leaf, but as he pulled his arm back, I was dead still.
There was no time, but there was all the time in the world. I could see a raindrop falling.
As he released the arrow, I did not run.
I flew.
I flew up and away, to the side.
I thought I was dead, but I was alive. I flew like a phoenix.
And the thing that made me fly was a fire of love that I felt in my heart. This is what made me stronger than Van Wyk. What made me powerful, and him nothing.
Love. I felt my love for my life. My love for Jessie, and Hats, and my chickens. And Kannemeyer.
It lifted me up. Gave me wings.
I flew up to the side and down again. My landing was not so gentle. I crashed down onto the ground. Thud. But I did not feel any pain. A part of me was still flying.
Then Van Wyk was standing above me, his lips pulled back, his teeth small and mean.
‘You do make this interesting,’ he said. There were drops of rain on his feeble moustache. ‘Sorry to cut it short, but I have another hunt to get to.’
The rain was less now. It fell down softly onto me. He put an arrow into his bow and pulled it back and pointed it at me. He aimed at my heart.
‘I wonder if the arrow will go right through you at this range?’ he said. ‘You are quite . . . dense.’
I closed my eyes so I would not have to see his ugly smile. I imagined Jessie and Hattie drinking tea and eating rusks. And I saw Kannemeyer, with his thick moustache and that handsome smile of his.
I was not afraid.