4

Connor knelt beside the tepee of sticks, his knife and a flint stone in hand. Feeling as if he was back camping with his father, he struck the edge of the blade against the flint, trying to create a spark and set the small pile of wood shavings alight. He’d had reservations about making a fire. There was a risk that the gunmen would spot the flames in the darkness. But he weighed this against the danger from wild animals and the need for warmth during the chilly night ahead.

They’d found the ideal place to set up camp, a shallow cave a little farther down from the ridge, where a stream ran through a gully into a pool before flowing on through the jungle. Connor had made certain that the cave was empty first, throwing in a stone, then checking the entrance for any signs that an animal might be using it as a den. With no obvious remains of food or droppings, the cave appeared uninhabited.

Connor struck the flint harder. Still getting no spark, he persisted, becoming increasingly frustrated and worried he might damage the steel blade. His memory of lighting fires with his father seemed to be a simple matter of a quick strike followed by the whole pyramid of sticks bursting into glorious flame. But so far all he’d managed to do was graze his knuckles and blunt his knife.

After ten minutes of futile striking, he was on the verge of giving up when a single flicker like a tiny falling star dropped onto the tinder. Connor blew softly, desperately trying to coax the spark into a flame. But the small glow died away rapidly. Tired and hungry, he tossed aside the flint in a fit of frustration.

“Would this be easier?” asked Henri.

Glancing over, Connor saw he was holding up a small book of matches.

“Where did you get those?” he cried.

Henri offered a sheepish grin. “My back pocket.”

“Why on earth didn’t you give them to me earlier?” Connor said, shaking his head in disbelief as he grabbed the book from him.

Henri shrugged an apology. “I forgot I’d taken them from the lodge’s bar. Besides, you looked like you knew what you were doing.”

“I don’t have a clue what I’m doing!” shouted Connor.

Henri wore a wounded look. “But you’re our bodyguard . . .”

Connor took a deep breath, trying to rein in his annoyance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. That snake freaked me out, that’s all.”

He struck one of the matches and the tinder immediately caught alight. With a few gentle puffs, he coaxed the flames, and the tepee of sticks began to crackle and burn. “So much for my SAS survival skills,” he sighed, pocketing the matches and hoping his father wasn’t looking down on him, shaking his head in despair.

At that moment Amber returned with another armful of sticks for the fire. Or at least Connor thought they were sticks at first. Instead she dumped the dead black mamba at his feet. Connor flinched and scrambled away.

“Dinner,” Amber explained.

“You’ve got to be kidding!” said Connor, eyeing the mamba warily, expecting it to come back to life and strike at any moment.

“Remember what Gunner said: snake is steak in the bush. And we need to eat.”

Connor felt the ache in his stomach and knew she was right. No wonder he was so short-tempered. Swallowing back his revulsion, he forced himself to crouch beside the black mamba. He reached out a hand to hold the snake’s pulverized head in position, but shuddered at the thought of touching the creature’s oily scales.

“Sorry, I simply can’t do it,” he admitted, passing Amber his knife.

“If it was a spider, I wouldn’t be able to either,” she replied.

Taking great care not to go anywhere near the fangs, Amber used the blade to cut the snake’s head off. Then, once the fire had settled down, she laid the body on the hot embers. The skin sizzled loudly, and soon afterward, the cave filled with the aroma of cooking flesh. Despite his phobia of snakes, Connor’s mouth began to water in anticipation.

Having each drunk from the pool using the LifeStraw, they sat around the fire and waited for their snake dinner to be ready. Night had truly fallen, and their shadows played out against the cave wall. Insects whirred and chirped, bats fluttered overhead and unseen creatures leaped from the branches, screeching and hollering. The incessant noise of the jungle was unnerving, and the three of them huddled closer to the fire. Somewhere in the darkness they heard a series of low threatening growls, like the sawing of wood.

Amber gazed nervously into the pitch-black. “What do you think that is?” she whispered.

“Whatever it is,” Connor replied, “it’s a long way from us.” Or so he hoped.

After half an hour, Amber tested the snake with his knife. “I think it’s cooked.”

Pulling the body off the coals, she sliced it open and cut a portion of steaming meat for each of them.

Henri examined his unusual meal with trepidation. “Do you think it’s safe to eat?”

“The poison’s in the head, according to Gunner, so it should be,” replied Amber, sniffing her piece cautiously.

Hunger overcoming his aversion to snake, Connor took a bite. “Tastes like chicken!” he said in surprise.

The other two tucked in, devouring their meal quickly. Once their bellies were full, exhaustion soon overtook them.

“I’ll build up the fire,” said Connor as Amber settled her brother at the back of the cave.

As he piled on some larger logs, Connor could hear the two of them whispering, their voices echoing off the rock wall.

“Ow! The ground’s all stony.”

Amber swept away the debris with her hand. “You can rest your head on these leaves,” she said, gathering up some green branches.

Henri lay down. “No animals will get us, will they?”

Amber shook her head. “The fire will scare them off. Now go to sleep.”

She appeared to hesitate, then leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead. Henri stared up at her, evidently surprised by her unexpected tenderness. Then he said, “Mama and Papa are dead, aren’t they?” His tone was matter-of-fact and all the more heartrending for it.

Amber stroked his tousles of red hair gently from his face. “They might have escaped, like us.”

“But how could they? They don’t have a bodyguard like Connor to protect them.”

Amber glanced over her shoulder at Connor. Their eyes met, and he tried to offer her a reassuring smile. She turned back to her brother. “I’m sure they’ll be waiting at the lodge for us,” she said. “Now close your eyes and get some rest. We have a long day ahead.”

Connor could tell from the tremor in her voice that Amber was just barely holding it together, trying not to show weakness in front of her brother. Connor admired her for that. Prodding a stick into the fire, he watched the sparks spiral up into the night. He too needed to appear strong for their benefit, but he felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders and a knot of deep anxiety gripping his stomach at the fear of failure. If it hadn’t been for Amber’s brave actions, Henri would be dead or dying by now, poisoned by the black mamba. And it would have been his fault. Even now the very thought of that snake sent a shiver down his spine. His phobia had rendered him powerless to protect either of them. He’d not been much of a bodyguard. More a liability. What if he froze again and failed to react? Maybe not against a snake, but a lion or a leopard or some other deadly animal. The incident had sown the seeds of doubt, and he seriously questioned if he was up to the task ahead.

Amber appeared quietly at his side, her eyes glistening with tears.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded and pulled her knees into her chest. They lapsed into silence, listening to the snap and crackle of the fire while staring into the flames.

After a while, she asked, “Do you honestly think anyone else escaped?”

Connor thought back to the chaos of the ambush. “Gunner and Buju, perhaps. Also, I’m certain Minister Feruzi and Minister Rawasa and the others in their vehicle did. They’re probably raising the alarm as we speak, bringing in reinforcements. With any luck, Buju will be following our tracks and we’ll be picked up by a government patrol tomorrow.”

Amber rested her head on his shoulder, whether through tiredness or for comfort he couldn’t tell. “Thank you, Connor,” she said.

“For what?”

“For saving our lives.”

Connor went back to prodding the fire. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. I was useless against that snake.”

“Snake combat isn’t part of bodyguard training, then?”

“No, of course not,” he replied, before realizing she was teasing him.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We all have our fears to face. And you’ve eaten yours!” she said with an impish grin.

Connor laughed. “I suppose that’s what you call true revenge.”

Amber sat up. “Can I ask you a question?”

Connor nodded. “Sure.”

“How did the gunmen know where to ambush us?”

Connor turned to face her. “That’s something that’s been bothering me too,” he admitted. “The attack had to be carefully planned; they’d even dug a trench. So they must have known the route in advance.”

Amber’s eyes widened in comprehension. “You mean someone told them. But who?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. One of the soldiers? Perhaps a park ranger?”

“Or even one of the ministers,” suggested Amber darkly.