28

Connor and Amber crept through a night alive with noise and unseen movement. The warm air pulsated with the ceaseless chirp of crickets and cicadas, the plaintive cries of bush babies and the soft flutter of bats flying overhead. Accompanying this nightly chorus of the African savannah were the rumbling vocalizations of elephants and the deep drawn-out roars of lions prowling the plain.

Connor’s eyes darted to every snap of twig or rustle of leaf in the darkness. But even with the aid of his night-vision glasses, he rarely saw the culprit—the creature disappearing into the bushes or up into the branches before he could identify it.

Amber kept a firm grip on his hand, anxious not to lose him in the unnerving dark as he guided her through the trees bordering the plain. Every so often he’d check the compass on his watch and adjust their direction. Connor had made the conscious decision not to take the most direct route to the lodge, fearing that if they broke the cover of the trees, they’d be more easily spotted by rebel soldiers or the Wolf, or else become prey to the lions they could hear hunting.

Neither of them spoke as they hurried away from the camp. Connor presumed that Muscleman must have come to and woken the others by now. But would they come after them in the dark and without the Wolf?

Connor heard another crack of a twig close by.

He stopped still and Amber became motionless by his side. Her labored breathing was loud in his ear as he strained to listen for what animal or person was approaching. But the night noises gave nothing away.

Continuing on, they kept to a well-used animal trail. This made the going easier and quicker, as well as hiding any potential tracks they made among the spoor of antelope and other creatures. If the Wolf really did mean to hunt them down, Connor wanted to ensure he left as little evidence of their progress as possible.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement.

Connor spun in its direction.

“What is it?” Amber whispered, her eyes wide as a bush baby’s.

Connor shushed for her to be silent. He scanned the bushes, their edges glowing softly in his night vision. A branch was swaying ever so slightly, but there was nothing there.

“Just my imagination,” he replied, keeping his voice low as he led Amber farther along the trail. But they hadn’t gone far when they both heard a distinct rustling.

Was the Wolf on their trail already? Or had they run into a rebel patrol?

Connor slowly pivoted on the spot, searching the undergrowth once more. But it was just a shadowy wall of bushes and grass.

Then he happened to glance up.

Peering menacingly from the bough of a tree were two glassy green orbs.

Without his night vision the leopard would have been entirely invisible to him, a ghost in the night. But Connor could just about discern the sleek outline of the big cat, the white tip of its tail twitching . . . then a flash of its fearsome pointed canines as it opened its jaws and pounced from the tree.