44

Connor ripped aside the clump of foliage but found nothing. It was the wrong tree. He went from one trunk to the other, searching for the hollow where he’d hidden Henri. But the jungle had looked completely different during the night, and he was now totally disoriented. “I know it’s around here somewhere,” he assured Amber.

The sound of gunfire was drawing ever closer. Zuzu pleaded with them to keep moving.

Torn between locating her brother and taking Zuzu’s advice, Amber questioned, “Will he still even be there? You told him to leave at first light.”

“I know,” Connor replied, their search becoming more and more desperate. “But we have to check in case he stayed behind.”

“Maybe the army has found him,” said Amber hopefully.

A hand grenade detonated close by and they all dropped to the ground, burning leaves and scorched earth raining down on them.

“You go with Zuzu,” Connor ordered Amber, their ears ringing from the blast. “I’ll find your brother.”

Amber shook her head. “No, we stick together.”

“You don’t have a choice,” said Connor, dragging her to her feet. “I’m not risking you getting caught again. Now go with Zu—”

“Connor! Amber!” a voice hissed.

They both spun around. Farther up the slope, a pair of scared eyes peeked out from behind a thick layer of leaves and branches. Connor had concealed the hollow’s entrance far better than he’d ever imagined.

“Henri!” Amber cried, scrambling up the slope and pulling away the branches. Henri crawled out and Amber embraced him so hard, Connor thought she’d never let go.

“Sorry, Connor,” Henri mumbled, his face pressed against his sister’s chest. “I was too scared to leave with all the fighting.”

Connor smiled kindly. “It’s a good thing you didn’t; otherwise—”

“Allons-y!” called Zuzu, frantically beckoning them to follow her.

“But the lodge is that way,” Connor argued, pointing upslope.

Zuzu vehemently shook her head and rattled off some French at him.

“When two elephants fight, it’s the grass that gets trampled,” Amber interpreted, finally relinquishing her grip on her brother. “She says it’s safer to go the long way around. Avoid the fighting.”

As another grenade exploded off to their left, Connor didn’t need any further convincing. They dashed along an animal trail, following the course of the river. With every step they took farther down the valley, the sounds of battle gradually receded and the rain began to ease. Zuzu slowed their pace a little, allowing Henri to grab a couple of puffs from his inhaler. By the time they reached the drop-off at the end of the valley, the storm had passed and dawn’s light had broken through the clouds in golden rays.

They stopped at the edge of the waterfall, its glistening curtain cascading down one hundred and fifty feet to a large natural pool below. From their viewpoint looking out across the park, Connor was once again astounded at the majestic beauty of Africa. The rolling savannah, fresh with rain, appeared to have reawakened. The trees and bushland had taken on a lusher shade of green and seemingly blossomed overnight. Birds sang a mellifluous chorus as they fluttered and swooped in the crystal-clear air. On the plain, herds of zebra, antelope and wildebeest grazed in countless numbers, braying and snorting, while a parade of mighty elephants strode toward the Ruvubu River, grown pregnant with floodwaters and now sparkling like a jeweled ribbon in the early morning light.

The storm had brought more than rain—it had brought life.

Amber peered over the lip of the waterfall, then glanced at Connor. “No jumping this time,” she said, the corner of her lips turning up into a teasing smile. “We climb down.”

“Fine by me,” he replied.

Moving carefully along the slippery rock, Amber picked the easiest route down the face, following a natural fault line. It was slow going, but the handholds were positive and plentiful, and they all reached the bottom safely. From the pool, Zuzu guided them along the line of the tributary river through the trees toward the plain. Connor took up the rear, ensuring they weren’t being followed. No one talked, all of them shattered and shell-shocked from their harrowing night and fraught escape.

Up ahead, Zuzu came to a sudden halt. Amber asked in a whisper what was wrong. Zuzu put a finger to her lips and unsheathed her knife.

The birds had stopped singing in their part of the jungle.