It was a couple of hours later. Cooper sat in the back of the Toyota with Zola. He wanted her to show him the stretch of land she’d signed over to Bemba.
He smiled at her. She looked nervous. They hadn’t said much on the journey, they’d just sat listening to the clear plastic sheet which now sat in place of the rear windscreen, giving off a loud snapping sound as it billowed in the driving breeze.
‘The only good thing about having no window is finally this piece of junk has some air conditioning… Are you okay, Zola?’
She nodded. Clasping her hands on her lap. And Cooper turned to watch out the window, noting in his head the landmarks Zola had described to help direct them.
The fallen eucalyptus tree at the bend of the river.
The burnt out car entwined with spider grass.
The large clearing by the white hut, giving a sight of the distant Rwandan mountains.
‘I think this could be it Rosedale, but be careful. I’m not certain but I have a feeling we might’ve been followed.’
‘By the red motorcycle?’
‘Yeah, you saw it as well?’
‘I was watching it for a while, but I think it might’ve been nothing.’
Cooper glanced round. ‘Well, let’s hope so.’
Rosedale put his foot on the brake. Slowed down and came to an eventual stop by the side of a dense forest. Zola nodded.
‘Oui, nous sommes ici. It’s through the other side.’
‘Unless it’s too difficult to walk, would you mind coming with us and showing us?’ asked Rosedale.
Shaking her head emphatically, and with fear coming into her eyes once more, Zola whispered, ‘This is not good land. It’s where the souls of the dead used to walk and where evil rained down from the sky.’
‘Is that why people don’t come here?’
‘Oui. That’s why no-one lives here. The Kindoki here is too strong to expel it. No deliverance had the power to rid the place of it.’
‘Does everyone believe that, Zola?’
‘Of course, no-one wants to be here in case the Kindoki begins to live inside them.’
Wanting to have clarity, Cooper said, ‘How does it? How does the Kindoki take over?’
‘You saw my grandson.’
Cooper’s mind began to tick over. ‘And he was here? Is that where he got ill?’
‘No, but it’s where most of them got ill.’
Maddie, who hadn’t spoken to Zola properly since her outburst, gently said, ‘Can you tell me more, Zola, so I can understand properly… perhaps I’ll be able to help you.’
Zola’s lips pursed, her body becoming slightly more rigid. ‘No, I’ve said too much already.’
*
Having left Zola with Maddie back in the car to keep a watch, Rosedale and Cooper made their way along a path through the trees. Cooper didn’t say anything. And neither did Rosedale. They were trying to reserve what little strength they had to tackle the humidity of the day along with the biting insects which attacked unforgivingly.
Lighting a cigarette, Cooper offered one to Rosedale who declined. ‘You think you should be smoking that, Thomas? Smoke and the smell of tobacco, not exactly clandestine is it?’
Cooper knew Rosedale was right. He wasn’t thinking. Not straight anyway. Put out his cigarette without resentment. Followed Rosedale into the vast open space just in front of them.
Heading up the steep grass, Rosedale – clad in a bright orange Tahitian shirt and blue jeans topped off with a Cowboy boots and hat, which Cooper thought was even less covert than his cigarette – called down to him as he got to the top.
‘Looks like there’s a whole heap of nothing here, Thomas. Grass, grass and hell, what d’ya know? More grass.’
Coming up alongside him, Cooper glanced around. Rosedale was right. There was nothing. Literally. Unless of course you counted the grass. He slapped his leg hard. ‘Jeez, these damn insects are driving me crazy. Don’t you get bitten, Rosedale?’
Rosedale spoke slowly, his drawl as always emphasizing his words. ‘That I do, boy, my blood is just as sweet, if not sweeter than yours. Only difference here though is you complain like a billy goat who’s lost their momma… Come on, don’t look like there’s a damn thing here.’
Bending down to pull up his jeans to scratch his leg, Cooper noticed a piece of porcelain pot. It was identical to the glazed piece he’d found back at the huts. It even had the same thin, tiny piece of copper wire embedded in it. Picked it up. Had a suspicion this might be different to the usual pieces of nothing much he collected. But then, he also had a suspicion that that was what he always thought.