Ashley sat quietly with Paige on her lap. Gently rocking her daughter backwards and forwards on her knees, she sang quietly to her and smiled as little Paige reached out with a chubby fist and attempted to pull on her mother’s hair that tickled her face. Taking first watch just after the sun had set and before the new moon in the sky had a chance to cast any light on the world, Ashley, engrossed with Paige, did not notice that the stillness, now so much part of camp life, was shifting.
She swotted the pesky mosquito that insisted on humming around her head and looked over Paige into the night. In the distance, an orange glow came from Albert’s tented area. She stared at it for a few seconds, until suddenly it dawned on her what she was seeing.
‘Fire! Albert’s camp!’ she screamed out.
Gertrude sprung up like a lithe cat, despite her recent injuries, and looked outward. ‘No!’ She began waking the children. ‘Florence, sweetheart, we have to fight a fire. Come on, get the girls together and stay close.’ She kissed her daughters’ heads.
The acrid smell of smoke began to permeate the camp, blowing downwind from the fire. The cattle kraaled nearby milled around, baying softly, not yet alarmed but alerted to the danger lurking on the horizon.
Ashley had her twins in their carrycots within seconds. Although Paige was awake, she was not fussing, and Brock slept on, oblivious of the chaos around him.
‘Water! Sacks!’ Ashley instructed. The teenage boys ran to switch on the generator that pumped water up from the river and into the camp. Ashley secured her kids in the back seat of the bakkie, then moved it out the rough kraal and to the pump. The boys had two empty 44-gallon drums waiting, and they quickly lifted them into the back. The water rushed into them, spilling over into the back, the smell of molasses strong in the night air as the barrels flushed clean. Gertrude came running with a few empty feed sacks they had in the storeroom at the back of the school building, and everyone piled in or onto the bakkie.
‘Is everyone armed?’ Ashley asked, as she patted her 9mm snuggled against her body under her blouse. As they all called out their replies, Ashley smiled gently. ‘Thank you for the lessons, Scott,’ she said quietly. The larger gun no longer felt like an alien or cold metal object, but an extension of herself.
They raced towards the blaze.
Hours later, the fire was out at last. The small group collapsed on the tailgate of the bakkie, totally exhausted. The twins were sleeping in the cab, as were Gertrude’s youngest two. The adults were black with soot and smelled of burnt plastic. There was no comforting smell of wood smoke, only the metallic odour of burnt plastic and man-made materials.
Albert’s camp was gone.
So too were his stores under the tree.
A good number of their farm implements taken from Zimbabwe had been saved, but most of Ashley and Scott’s personal possessions were burned. The fire had destroyed everything, including whatever protection Albert didn’t have on his ammunition pile, stashed only God knew where.
At one stage shots had begun firing into the night and everyone hit the ground for cover, thinking they were under attack, but it hadn’t been so. The heat of the fire had simply made the bullets discharge. When they were sure no more ammo was going to explode on them, they carried on with their efforts to drag items away from the hungry fire. It hadn’t spread up into the trees, other than the three large ones within the immediate camp area. Thankfully, Elliott had known where the chainsaws were stored. He had accessed them quickly and given one to Lisa, and together they had attempted to stop the firestorm before it got out of hand.
When the flames were only in the tops of the trees, he and Lisa had been able to cut them down. The first had crashed into the second, almost destroying the younger tree on its way. The last tree had taken both of them cutting at it before it fell, and it would have crushed Lisa on the way down if it hadn’t been for Elliott’s quick reflexes and a violent push to get her out the way.
Eventually the fire had been contained, but at a heavy price. Lisa lay on the ground near the bakkie, her eyes were closed but she was awake. Quietly waiting, regaining her strength. The shotgun lay next to her.
Tears streamed down Ashley’s face. She wiped her nose on the top of her sleeveless blouse. It was already sweat stained and filthy from the fire. She didn’t care. She had no energy left to reach into the bakkie and get a toilet roll to use instead.
Nothing was going to change Ashley’s mind now that it was made up. Elliott had confirmed their camp had been rummaged through, and the single set of footprints left behind near the schoolroom didn’t belong to anyone on the ranch. He was convinced they belonged to the albino, although the man walked a little differently, as if his leg hurt. It had changed his footprint, but only a little.
Ashley decided they were not staying another moment. Without all the anti-poaching units and Zol and Scott, they were vulnerable. A soft, easy target. Despite the fact they could arm themselves to the max, with so few of them they wouldn’t get much sleep taking turns on nightwatch. Without a cell phone and the CB radio to Scott and Zol totally out of range, they couldn’t even call the police for help. For the second time in a month, they were evacuating a ranch. Only this time, they were leaving everything behind, except for a small suitcase of clothes.
They could return when Scott and Zol came home, which shouldn’t be long – a day or two at most. Until then, they needed to find some sort of motel in Livingstone. There, they would be safe.
‘Right, Tobias. Let the cattle out of their pen so they can take their chances with the lions and leopards. Everyone gather clothes for a few days. We are leaving,’ she instructed.
‘Madam Ashley, let me stay,’ Tobias said. ‘The cattle are my responsibility. I must stay behind, that is our way. Since Boss Charlie’s days, I have been with the cattle.’
‘I …’ She looked at Elliott. He was slowly shaking his head, his hand at his waist, in a stop position, indicating to her not to argue. She cleared her throat.
‘Thank you.’ She looked the older man directly in the eyes. ‘But you must promise me you’ll stay close to the camp and not attempt to be a hero. No going after this trespasser and thief. Just look after the cattle, and if it’s a cow’s life or yours, I would rather see every animal dead than you. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Madam.’ Tobias nodded.
‘I have to accept that for now.’ She knew that life had to carry on. The cattle needed to be tended to, watered and protected. Tobias was armed, so that was all she could do for him for the moment.
‘We need to leave as soon as possible. Meet back here in five minutes,’ she instructed. ‘No one else stays …’ Seeing Elliott nod silently at her, she broke off her sentence and strode away to gather clothes for herself and the twins.
The sun was rising as they set off in the bakkie. Lisa and Elliott stood at the roll bar on the back, guns ready. Gertrude, Florence and Marie, her two oldest daughters, sat on a mattress in the back, with pillows and blankets around them to cushion the bumpy road. The two smallest girls were inside the cab with Ashley and the twins. No woman was being left behind for the albino to get his hands on. Annie and her older sons, Isaac and Philemon, were also in the back, safe. The teenage boys had wanted to stay with their father, but Tobias had told them to protect their mother in the big city for him, and help Elliott watch over Madam Ashley.
Both sons stood proudly when their father asked that, and Ashley smiled at them. Isaac, who was only about fifteen, had filled the bakkie’s tank from the cans of petrol that had escaped the fire. He’d made sure they had two spare jerry cans full, and put them in the back. Ashley didn’t remember being so responsible at his age.
Now the small party was on the move again, on the road, heading for the nearest motel. Just where that was Ashley didn’t know, but when they got to the main road and the sun came up, they would find some people and ask.
Zol fought the steering wheel for control as the tarmac beneath the truck disintegrated. The road into Livingstone was a mess, with the potholes in the bitumen filled with water from yesterday’s rain. They had become unfathomable depths and certain deathtraps for the weary driver of any vehicle.
But the cattle truck was handling most of them with ease, if he steered around the worst of it. They were on their last twelve-hour stretch for home, and he could almost smell the closing of the distance. Through his open side window he could hear the cicadas. In Zambia they were eaten as nyenje, or chenje in the east, but to him, they sung in the wrong season. In Zimbabwe, they emerged later and their arrival signalled the beginning of the wet season and the lead-up to Christmas. That’s why they had their nickname, Christmas beetles. But in Zambia, they began to emerge during the dry heat of August. They had begun their shrill monotonous sound too early. He would have to adjust his thinking for the new country. He wound up his window to block out the noise and watched the road carefully.
The drive until the main section of Livingstone had gone well, with little difficulty. Vusi drove the capture vehicle behind him, with Albert’s vehicle coming up the rear, the dead bodies from the disastrous final crossing wrapped in blankets and covered over in the back of his bakkie. The last stretch from Livingstone to FA Ranch was going to be the hardest part as they would hit it at nightfall, and the abundant game on the road would be an added hazard. He rolled his head on his neck.
Soon, everyone could rest. Until the next move, when the land they had applied to the Zambian government for came through. When Scott completed the applications, he had stipulated his preference that he and Zol were next door to each other and near a game reserve, so they could continue their anti-poaching training business. It would take time to grow in Zambia, but it would happen.
Once they were settled, he would travel into Namibia to exchange some of their ‘rainy day fund’ that he had already retrieved on his journey and stashed safely on FA Ranch. But he would only do that once they knew where they were going, and leave Scott and the anti-poaching units to watch over Gertrude and Ashley. Once Scott was better, that was.
He had seen men with their stomachs on the wrong side of their bodies before, many years ago. And many had survived. As long as there were no other complications, the doctors could stitch it all back. But if the intestines were damaged, that was a problem. He silently preyed to his ancestors, wherever in Africa they were, that Scott would be all right.
He had seen so many people cross over. He remembered when he’d lost Charlie. For a time he thought that his own heart would break, and he too would join him. But life had carried on. Inkosanan Scott had tugged at Zol’s heart, needing a man close by who understood his love of the land. Needing a friend.
Zol had stayed and he had watched over Boss Charlie’s young child. And over the years as he matured, Scott had become his brother-but-one.
Ashley sat with Gertrude and Lisa in the garden outside the hotel. Elliott sat with his back against the jacaranda tree, his rifle next to him, a sign that the ladies and the children were under his protection and not to be approached by anyone. His presence was the only indication that life was not tranquil in the manicured garden of the hotel.
The small patch of grass under the tree was cool. Ashley’s twins slept peacefully under mosquito nets in their prams, oblivious of the tension that settled heavily on the small group of people under the purple canopy. Gertrude’s children played a game of hopscotch nearby, etched deeply into the dry sand with a stick, a brown pod used for keeping the spare place during the game.
Ashley had tried Scott and Albert’s phones multiple times, with no answer. They were obviously all out of cellular cover, and she suspected they had the sat-phone switched off as that didn’t ring either. It was nearing tea-time, and she decided to try again. Dialling Scott’s number on the hotel’s portable handset she had requested from the reception desk, she put the phone to her ear and listened.
The phone rang twice then Zol’s voice came over the wireless connection loud and clear.
‘Hello.’
‘Zol!’ she said.
‘Madam Ashley, give me a moment to pull off the road.’
She could hear as he pulled to the side of the road and let out the exhaust breaks.
‘I can talk now,’ he said.
‘Scott there?’ she asked.
‘He’s not with me. There was an accident –’
‘Is he okay? What type of accident?’
Gertrude looked at her, a frown creasing her copper skin.
‘A bad one. I am thinking you might want to start driving to the airport at Livingstone,’ Zol replied.
‘I’m already here.’ She gave him the name of the hotel they were staying at. ‘We had some trouble of our own.’
‘I’m only about half an hour away. I will meet you there.’
‘Zol! Wait, where is Scott?’
‘I will explain as soon as I get there,’ Zol said and hung up.
Ashley ran into her room, threw everything into her case and slammed the top shut. The sound of the zip was loud in the quiet room. ‘Scott,’ she whispered, ‘please be okay.’ She lifted the case onto its wheels and dragged it out the door. With Lisa’s help, she buckled the twins into their car seats. Elliott jumped into the passenger seat next to her, and Lisa squashed in between the twins. Gertrude and her girls were already seated in the bin at the back and the boys were waiting too, standing up holding onto the roll bar. They drove to the hotel’s gate to wait for the convoy.
Their immediate problems she could deal and fix. Scott was the unknown factor. The one she wanted desperately to control but couldn’t.
Finally the cattle truck rambled slowly past, filled with people. It stopped a small way from the gate, and Zol jumped out and closed the distance between them.
‘Zol!’ both Ashley and Gertrude called.
Reaching them, Zol hugged his wife to him and nodded to her. ‘Madam Ashley.’ He kissed the top of Gertrude’s head and let her go. Turning, he reached for Ashley. Totally against his traditions, he hugged her to him, as an old man would comfort a young child.
‘What happened? Where’s Scott?’
‘Scott is with Kevin in his chopper, going to hospital. He is very bad. And we lost some crossing the river, Madam.’
Ashley’s knees gave out under her and Zol held her tight to prevent her falling. He wouldn’t let her sit in a heap on the dusty ground of the street.
She tried hard to control the emotions that threatened to spill over and choke her. ‘Where did Kevin take him?’ she asked, her voice heavy.
‘Lusaka. But his stomach, it was pulled out.’
A chorus of joyous screams behind them signalled that Zol’s girls had stopped playing in the back and spotted their father.
‘Stand, Madam Ashley. You have to stand,’ he said.
She forced her body to respond and take her weight. There was so much more said in Zol’s command, and she was instantly alert.
The girls threw themselves into Zol’s embrace, giving Ashley a few minutes to compose herself, to find her courage again and think on what Zol had said. The workers had got out of the cattle truck and as they gathered around, their hushed whispers penetrated Ashley’s head. She straightened her back.
Albert walked through the group and hugged her. ‘Ashley, you all right?’
‘Yes. No. It’s Scott …’ she said, but knew that it was more for her own sake that she spoke the words. Albert and everyone else had been there. She took a deep breath. ‘Let’s deal with one thing at a time.’
She motioned Zol to walk a little away from the group, and Albert walked with her, his arm supporting hers. When she was sure the group wouldn’t hear them she asked, ‘Zol, what are the burial arrangements for those who died?’
‘First we get them all home to FA Ranch, then we bury them. To take them to a hospital here would bring the authorities,’ Zol said in a hushed tone.
‘I agree.’ Albert said. He realised she didn’t need as much support and released his grip on her. ‘Usually I would say no way, but I’m happy to have a small graveyard on FA Ranch. It’s where these people were told they were going, so it’s right that they rest there and not in some Zambian city cemetery, where their families can’t visit easily.’
Ashley looked at the two men. Both had valid points. ‘Fair enough. Have you had any contact with Kev since you separated?’
‘No.’ Albert pulled his cell phone from his pocket and held it high checking for a signal. No messages bleeped through. ‘The reception improves as we leave the town, perhaps you can give Kev a call when you’re on the road to the airport?’
‘Good idea. Albert, there isn’t good news on FA Ranch either. The albino attacked us, and he’s burnt your tent. You’ll need to pick up a new one, or move into the safari compound with us.’
‘Shit!’ Albert said. ‘That’s why you’re here and not waiting at home?’
‘Yep. But now everyone’s reunited, the guards will take care of him when we get back. There’ll be more people keeping watch for that bastard, it’ll be easier.’
‘As long as you’re all unharmed?’ Zol said.
‘No harm done to us. We’ve just been living it up in the city for a night.’ She tried to lighten the mood, but it fell flat. She swallowed the croak that threatened to bubble up her throat. ‘Let’s head for a better reception area, I want to know what’s going on with Scott.’
She turned her back on the men and walked back to her bakkie. Her arms felt icy and leaden. She could hardly breathe as a huge weight pressed into her chest. Action. She needed to do something. And any action was better than nothing at all. She pulled on her seatbelt and began to drive to the outskirts of town, looking for a better reception patch.
Zol took comfort from Gertrude sitting in the cattle truck with him, his girls crammed into the front with them. He was not surprised at the efficiency with which Ashley had organised the hotel checkout and got everyone moving again. She was still the wildcat who had stepped off Kevin’s plane five years ago. He remembered Ashley’s first moments in Africa, at Zebra Pan airstrip, and other important moments in her time with the family. And it was then that he realised that not only was she one of them, part of the extended Decker–Ndhlovu family, but she was a true African.
She wasn’t running away. She had organised her people, putting their welfare first.
Even now, when the stones on the Morabaraba were against Madam Ashley, she continuing to move the pieces, to somehow complete the puzzle. She was sticking by them. He smiled. Zol knew she would sort out everything, and if, God forbid, Scott didn’t make it, she’d be there always.
Fighting for them all.
It was a good day when Ashley had stepped into Scott’s life, and they would see through the troubles of late, and good times would come again. They had to.
He looked across at Gertrude. The girls were reading books and playing with string. He winked at his wife.
‘Welcome home,’ she said.
‘Lusaka ground control, this is CHN062, air charter. Requesting emergency clearance into Zambian airspace, and permission to route direct to Lusaka hospital for urgent medical assistance. Estimated time still en route, half an hour.’ Kevin spoke into his sat-phone.
‘State the nature of your emergency?’
‘I’ve a man needing immediate medical assistance. His stomach has been ripped open in a whitewater rafting accident.’
‘You are cleared for Zambian airspace, and there will be a medical team waiting at the hospital for you. What’s the patient’s status?’
‘He’s unconscious.’
‘I’ll relay that information. Make sure you come into the airport and file your flight plans when you are finished.’
‘Roger that, and thank you for the assistance.’
Kevin sighed with relief.
Scott hadn’t regained consciousness again. ‘Hold on, my friend,’ Kevin said to him, even though he knew Scott couldn’t hear him.
Twenty-three minutes later, Kevin landed his chopper on the hospital’s helipad, in the centre of Lusaka. True to his word, the air controller had the medical team waiting, and Scott was rushed away from him on a trolley.
Kevin quickly moved his chopper away from the main pad and tied it down. Thank God for small mercies. The hospital had been planned recently, and the modern architect had understood African needs.
Striding into the emergency room, Kevin shivered at the coolness of the air-conditioned building. The sickly sweet smell of antiseptic wafted around him.
Scott was better off in Lusaka than in Zimbabwe’s Harare hospital. Lusaka had international doctors employed at their hospital. The government was trying hard and succeeding at rebuilding their shattered country, while Zimbabwe was struggling with few professionals, and more were leaving all the time as the country slid deeper into poverty.
A trauma nurse took Kevin through to a smaller waiting room.
‘Your friend’s in theatre,’ she said. ‘You can wait here for news, I will be at the desk if you need anything else.’ After twenty minutes, she returned.
‘Excuse me,’ she said, as Kevin bounded to his feet, eager for news.
‘Scott Decker is still in theatre, there have been complications.’
‘Complications?’
‘His stomach has perforated. That means that not only were his intestines coming out of his body, but they are broken inside. All the stomach acids have gone into his body. They are trying to clean it all out. His own body is poisoning him.’
Kevin sank down heavily onto the chair. Scott was in more trouble than he’d thought. His best friend could die, and he didn’t have any way he could contact Ashley to help to get her here. He looked at his cell phone. He didn’t have Ashley’s number but he knew Zol or Albert had Scott’s phone.
He looked at the theatre doors. A sign advised that all cell phones had to be switched off, so he walked outside, trawling through the phone’s menu for the last number that called. He dialled it.
‘Hello.’ An African voice answered, but he would know that voice anywhere.
‘Zol!’
‘Kevin. How’s Scott?’
‘Not good. Listen, I need to get hold of Ashley. Are you almost home?’
‘No, I’m driving out of Livingstone. She’s in her bakkie behind me. Just wait a moment, I will stop and give her the phone.’
Kevin could hear the exhaust brakes of the cattle truck being released, and Zol running on loose gravel, then the drone of Zol’s voice in the background.
‘Kevin. Hi. How’s Scott?’ Ashley said, her words almost running together.
‘Ashley … he’s bad. Real bad. I’m in Lusaka General. I’m coming to fetch you.’
‘H –’ Nothing else came through the phone’s receiver and he heard her swallow. ‘How bad?’
He heard her hiccup.
‘He’s still in theatre. His stomach was perforated.’
‘Holy shit!’
‘Ashley, I need to refuel and file flight plans. Can you get to Livingstone airport and I’ll collect you there?’
‘How long do I have to find the airport?’
‘Two and a half hours, tops.’
‘I’ll be there. Kevin, tell him to wait for me.’
Ashley, Zol, Lisa and the twins made their way to the airport in Ashley’s bakkie, leaving Elliott with Gertrude to drive the cattle truck to FA Ranch. They watched as Kevin touched down and cut his engines. He waited for the blades to slow almost to a stop before opening his door and tumbling out onto the concrete. Just one look at Kevin’s face and the droop in his shoulders and Ashley suspected they were too late.
Kevin enveloped her in his embrace. ‘Come on, we need to hurry.’
Strapped into the helicopter, Ashley thought back to another time when she had been so filled with hope and passion when flying with Kevin in his old plane. The nice plush helicopter was a far cry from his plane, but she had enjoyed that first journey a helluva lot more than this mercy dash. The trees and rivers beneath them blurred in a swirl of colour as they raced above, but she couldn’t make out a single landmark. This whole land was so unfamiliar to her.
Kevin constantly checked in with the hospital on his sat-phone. They assured him that Scott was still listed as critical, which meant that he was still alive. Scott could fight critical, but he couldn’t fight dead.
Finally they touched down on the hospital’s helipad. Ashley, with Zol close behind, ran into the main building. Lisa was unloading the pram and the twins. Kevin had to move his chopper, and would follow them when he could.
Ashley went to the main desk.
‘I’m Ashley Decker, my husband Scott was flown in for emergency surgery?’
‘We have been expecting you. Your husband is in room 212. The orderly will show you the way.’
The orderly was around Ashley’s height and dressed in starched whites. He smiled hesitantly then gestured for them to follow him, and she thanked the office clerk as she left, striding after the young man. They walked down a few corridors and he pushed open a door that led to the intensive care unit.
The nurse helped her into a surgical gown and booties, a hair cover and gloves. Zol was similarly attired. Finally they were shown to Scott’s room.
Zol held the door and Ashley walked into the room.
Through the mask that covered her nose, she could smell the strong antiseptic wash. The machines attached to Scott made noises foreign to her ears. She went to the bed and reached for his hand that didn’t have a drip attached.
‘I’m here, Scott,’ she said. ‘Zol’s here, too.’
The ashen-faced man on the bed didn’t move except for the rise and fall of his chest, which she knew the machine was making as it helped him breath.
‘You must be Mrs Decker. I’m Dr McKenzie. I’m glad you are here. Please take a seat.’ The doctor spoke as he walked into the room, and motioned to the chair next to the bed. Zol immediately lifted the chair and put it behind her legs, and she sat down. He remained behind her, his hand resting reassuringly on her shoulder.
‘Your husband is still critical. There are complications. He has suffered what we refer to as a penetrating abdominal trauma. However, one or more of his intra-abdominal organs have also been injured. His small intestines were perforated, so we had to perform a colostomy. Basically, we’ve removed part of his small intestine, and then closed his rectum and attached his intestine to a bag. When the time comes, we can reverse this and he will have normal bowel function again. This perforation has poisoned his whole abdominal cavity. We attempted to clean it as best as we could, but his body was going into shock. He also had a shattered kidney, which we were not able to save. His liver is also damaged and we can already see signs of sepsis. Infection. We have him on strong anti-inflammatory and antibiotic drugs to try and help him.’
‘Will he make it?’ she asked.
‘Too soon to say. But it will be calming for him to have you here.’
‘Thank you. Is there anything else we can do to help him?’
‘If you believe there is a God, you can pray,’ he said.
She looked at him. This man of medicine was telling her to pray. Scott’s life was in serious danger.
Suddenly, a machine next to the bed began to beep, and the doctor rushed to Scott’s side. She could see that even in the short space of time that the doctor had been speaking to her, Scott’s pallor had changed.
‘Stay over there,’ he said sternly, pointing to the back of the room. ‘We are going to need space to manoeuvre.’
Three nurses rushed in. The doctor began barking out orders and carts of equipment were wheeled in. All the time, Zol held her shoulders, keeping her in the back of the room while the machines beeped and the doctor’s stern voice created organisation out of what looked like chaos. The hum of the ventilator as it squished in and out continued.
After what seemed like an eternity, the ventilator went quiet, the beeping stopped and an unnatural silence fell over the room. Dr McKenzie turned to her, and removed his gloves. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Decker …’
‘No!’ she shouted. ‘No, it’s not fair! Tell me he’s not dead. Tell me –’
‘He’s gone. You can sit with him for a while if you want to.’
‘Noooo …’ the high-pitched wail somehow forced its way out of her throat.
She knew she was only standing because Zol held her up, she could feel his heat searing her cold body, as he stroked her hair, her back, and up and down her arms. The arctic was warmer than her, and there was no fire on earth that would make her feel again.
Her love was gone.
Her best friend.
She was alone. How could he leave her here without him?
She turned to look at Zol. The big man was stooped and giant tears rolled freely down his face, his shoulders shook but no sound came from his body.
‘Oh God, Zol,’ she said as she put her arms around him.
‘I’m so sorry, Madam Ashley,’ he said.
‘Me too, Zol. Me too.’ She stood with her arms around him, and his around her, lost in her grief. Huge sobs racked her body and she gulped for air.
Her Scott was dead.
This was not supposed to happen.
Her head felt light and she couldn’t breathe. The pain in her chest increased and eventually she gasped a breath, but it burned her lungs. Her heart shattered into a broken mess and she sobbed.
‘Not my Scott.’
Ashley walked to the bed, bent over and hugged her husband.
Kevin ran into the room, took one look at the scene in front of him and sank to his knees. ‘No!’ he cried.
For a long time the three friends grieved in the room. Finally, Ashley let Scott go and smoothed his cheek. The nurses had put plaster on his eyes to keep them closed. She wanted to rip it off so that he could open them and see the world, tell him to wake up.
But she knew it was useless.
Zol went over to Kevin and squeezed his shoulder. Kevin got up, wiping his eyes on the back of his sleeve.
‘Thank you, Kevin,’ Zol said and extended his hand. ‘For getting us here. He waited for us, then he crossed over.’
She watched as the two most important men in her husband’s life shook hands. His best friend and mentor of the bush, and his business partner of the sky, united in their grief, and both of equal importance to the man they held so dear. She looked down at her trembling hands. The sunlight from the window refracted sparkles through the diamonds on her rings and the rainbows danced across the ceiling. Africa had given her great happiness, and then cruelly snatched it away.
At that moment she hated the continent more than anything else in the world, and the anger burned low within her body at the injustice done to her small family.