She heard a vehicle approaching, coming fast towards her and immediately, Amie raced off the road and into the bush. She hid behind a small thorn tree and watched it fly past. It looked to be some sort of army truck carrying a load of soldiers in the back, it was impossible to tell what side they might support and she briefly wondered whether they knew either.
She waited several more minutes before she had the courage to scramble back up onto the road. As each kilometre passed, the rucksack became heavier and heavier. She carried it in one hand and then the other to relieve her aching shoulders, but she was never tempted to leave it behind. She still had two and a half precious bottles of water left and a few biscuits. She had treated herself the previous evening by drinking as much as she could, reasoning she could refill in the morning, but the lioness had put paid to that plan. She had drunk half a bottle today, so she needed to find another source of water very soon.
She had no idea how far she’d walked, or how many kilometres Apatu lay behind her, but as she put one foot in front of the other, she reckoned she was covering more ground than before. She was getting into her stride, and the cloudy skies allowed her to keep going throughout the day. It was approaching the wet season and she only hoped she would reach the border before the rains began.
It was late in the afternoon when she paused, she had a weird sensation everything looked familiar. There was a clump of fever trees on one side, and almost opposite, a smaller dirt road leading off to the left. She paused, should she bear left and head back a little way towards the coast? Without the sun, she wasn’t sure which direction she was heading, as the gravel road had twisted and turned in several places. It might be easier walking under a cloudy sky, but it was also easier to get lost, or walk around in circles.
Another approaching truck made up her mind for her, and she darted down the side road to hide in the undergrowth. There were faint tyre tracks on the side road, so trusting to luck, Amie set off. Every now and again she thought she recognized a landmark, a particularly tall tree, or a flowering bush or another dry river bed, but then doubts set in. Still, she reasoned if she walked for long enough, she was bound to get somewhere, even though she was deliberately forgetting she had no food and very little water left. Should she try and refill her water bottles? There was a small ridge ahead of her, so she decided she would walk to the top of it and try to get some idea where she might be. She could always come back and start digging before it got dark.
She noticed several buck among the trees on either side of the road. They looked up in alarm as she approached and didn’t take their eyes off her, but they only moved away a few paces, obviously they didn’t think she was a threat, she observed with a wry grin. Just wait until I get really hungry, she laughed nervously. Am I getting braver, or am I losing all sense of reality?
When she reached the top of a small rise, she could see gateposts in the distance. Now she knew she was hallucinating, Nkhandla Game Lodge was right in front of her. That can’t be right, wasn’t the lodge north of the capital? She thought she’d been walking south. Maybe it didn’t matter now, she’d found sanctuary and she was safe at last.
As she almost ran through the gate posts, she felt the weight of the world falling from her shoulders, from now on everything would be all right. Dirk and Helen were such old hands they would know exactly what to do and how to help her. She couldn’t wait to tell them of her adventures.
The first sign that things were not as they should be, was the absence of vehicles in the front driveway. Maybe they’d hidden them out of sight, reasoned Amie, mounting the outdoor steps to the bar area. The next thing she noticed was the bare shelves behind the bar, last time she was here there were rows and rows of bottles, now they were all gone, and so were the people; there was no one around. She noticed that everything was covered in dust, leaves, small branches and animal droppings.
Some instinct kept Amie from calling out, and she tip toed cautiously across the veranda, peering first into the lounge and then the dining area. Everywhere she looked had been stripped bare. There was no furniture, no tables laid, no food in the fridges, nothing. She began to despair. The place she’d thought might be a refuge was deserted. Where was everyone?
She peeked out the back door, but there were no signs of life in the servants’ quarters either. Climbing the stairs off the main reception she crept slowly towards the living area where she knew Dirk and Helen stayed. Here at least the large bed lay undisturbed although no bedding remained and the built-in cupboards and drawers were empty. Amie felt like a thief or a peeping tom, but she was desperate to find some clue as to what had happened, or an idea as to where her hosts had gone.
Back downstairs she went to the desk, and rifled through the drawers. The booking log was still there, showing that guests were expected in a few days’ time. They were going to be disappointed, but then it was unlikely they could even get here with the airport closed, and riots in the capital.
Amie swung around sharply as she heard a rustling noise behind her, but it was only a bird which had flown in from the balcony. It was just as nervous as Amie, and it took off immediately flying back outside.
Amie left the main building and went to look in the nearest banda where not so long ago she and Jonathon had stayed; even thinking about him brought tears to her eyes. As in the other rooms, most of the furnishings had gone. Only the bed, made of solid tree trunks and too heavy to move, was left in place. Amie sat down on the bare springs and wept.
Amie’s stomach began to rumble and convulse and she realised it had been a long time since she’d last eaten. She had almost lost track of time, so she went back to the kitchen hoping to find something to eat that might have been overlooked. In the bin she found some hard, stale biscuits, and in the larder, there was a jar of mincemeat left over from last Christmas’s mince pies, a product she knew most locals didn’t like. Wrenching off the top she scooped it out with her fingers while nibbling at the biscuits
She left her rucksack in the kitchen and wandered out the back door. She noticed several brown stains on the grass and guessed the worst, she’d seen enough blood in the last few days to recognize the smell, and as if to confirm her fears, as she walked towards the garden fence, she came face to face with a hyena. She froze. What had Dirk told her? Never stare directly into their eyes, keep them lowered to show you are not a threat. Amie found this incredibly difficult to do. She was almost mesmerized with fear as she and the animal weighed each other up.
The hyena moved a step closer and Amie took a step back. Should she try and make a run for it back to the kitchen and slam the door shut? Should she make for the nearest banda and shut herself in there? What if she tried to threaten it by shouting and waving her arms, would it run away? When she took another step backwards, she almost stumbled over a large brick lying in the grass. Slowly, she bent down, picked it up and threw it as hard as she could at the animal. Much to her amazement, it landed on the hyena’s head and, yelping, it ran off and disappeared out of sight.
Amie took a deep breath and rushed back inside. It was obvious that Dirk and Helen were not here, they’d probably been murdered. Had she not been so dehydrated she would have shed tears for them.
Seconds later her survival mode kicked in again and she decided to make a thorough search of the lodge and outbuildings before she continued on her journey.
To her delight, her most important find was a rain barrel of fresh water, so for the first time in ages Amie had a good wash, rinsed out her clothes and drank until her stomach could hold no more. Before it got totally dark, she took everything upstairs, closed the bedroom door jamming it with a wedge of wood she’d found in the yard, and lay down for the best night’s sleep she’d had in a long time.
When she woke the next morning, Amie couldn’t remember where she was; then it all came flooding back. During the night nothing had changed. Amie made a mental note of what she’d like to find while she wriggled into her clean clothes. Batteries for the torch she’d
taken from the store in Apatu, extra empty bottles she could fill with water, even though they were so heavy to carry, and food, yes, any food she could lay her hands on.
She spent the whole morning searching in every nook and cranny, every cupboard and drawer and every shelf. After she finished in the main building, she investigated all the bandas but whoever had ransacked the Lodge had done a thorough job. Her total haul at the end of her search was a pile of old and rather dirty rags, a large sheet of polythene, extra water bottles and two more jars of mincemeat.
It was just as she was gathering everything together ready to leave, she noticed the map on the wall. She rushed over to look at it. It clearly showed the position of the Lodge and she was incredibly relieved to see it was south of the capital. Maybe Amie had assumed they’d travelled north from Apatu that weekend because the workers here had all been from the northern tribes. And the distance to the border with Ruanga? It looked a long way, but it was impossible to measure it because the corner of the frame had been damaged and Amie couldn’t make out the scale markings. It did show the border was marked by a river, but it didn’t indicate how wide it was, or if it had water in all year round. The range of hills appeared to be inside Ruanga, so if they were the ones Amie could see in the distance, then maybe she didn’t have too far to go. She’d been through so much, had so many traumas, she was becoming fatalistic about her life and how long she might expect to live. She would do her best to get back home, but if she didn’t make it, then she would just be another statistic on the African Continent.
Reluctantly, Amie walked down the steps into the front parking area and set off again. It didn’t make sense to stay, even though it gave her a semblance of protection. No one was going to look for her here, or come to her rescue either. She needed to get herself to safety, and she was the only one she could rely on now. She continued to walk south.
Thousands of miles away, back in England there was a debate raging in the media. News of the ransom demand for Amie had been leaked to the press. There were two sides to the story. On the one hand some journalists were of the opinion that if you travelled to live and work in a foreign country, often for large sums of cash and all living expenses found, you were aware of the risks you took. To expect others to put their lives in jeopardy to rescue you if the foreign country erupted into civil war was unreasonable. You were responsible for your own bad judgment. Under no circumstances should the Prime Minister sanction payments for hostages. If they paid up even once, then every British person who left these shores would be a sitting target.
On the opposite side of the coin, the headlines screamed it was a disgrace! Her Majesty’s Government had a duty as the protector of all its citizens wherever they might be. The SAS should be sent in immediately to rescue the poor innocent people who’d been caught up in the fighting and subsequently imprisoned. They dragged up the Don Pacifico affair when, in 1850, Lord Palmerston, the British Foreign Secretary had dispatched a squadron of the British Navy to blockade the Greek port of Piraeus for two months, in retaliation for harming David Pacifico, a British subject in Athens. Born in Gibraltar, only his property had been destroyed, but Great Britain ensured he was well compensated. In those days, the papers screamed, it counted to be a British subject, it meant something. Those were the days when Britain was indeed Great!
‘Have you read what it says in your passport recently?’ Another newspaper screamed.
HER BRITANNIC MAJESTY’S SECRETARY OF STATE REQUESTS AND REQUIRES IN THE NAME OF HER MAJESTY ALL THOSE WHOM IT MAY CONCERN TO ALLOW THE BEARER TO PASS FREELY WITHOUT LET OR HINDRANCE, AND TO OFFER THE BEARER SUCH ASSISTANCE AND PROTECTION AS MAY BE NECESSARY.
Did that have any meaning in the world today? No! Today, the government cared nothing for the safety and welfare of the very people who paid its salaries and taxes.
In Castle Bridge, Amie’s parents worried constantly about her. Most of the time, they were under siege from the crowd of reporters and TV crews who pushed and jostled outside, asking repeatedly for quotes, information, and their feelings about their daughter. The press tracked down old school friends, teachers, ex-work colleagues and anyone who even briefly had been connected to Amie, to fill their newspapers and TV talk programmes. They had phone-ins on radio, and a few rather thoughtless people even laid wreaths on the grass outside the Reynolds’ house, sending Amie’s mother into floods of tears.
No one from the family, or the press, was privy to the talks that were held at high levels behind closed doors. The general consensus was that Britain’s policy was not to succumb to blackmail by a foreign country over the safety of its citizens. If there were other demands beside the ransom demanded by the new rebel government, these were not made public. Britain had not recognized the new regime in Togodo, maybe it would never recognize it. Even if President Mtumba and all his ministers had been totally corrupt, to the outside world they were the legally elected choice of the people.
It was a stalemate.
As she trudged further south, Amie often thought of her husband, her family and friends, but she would have been astonished to learn about the furore her arrest had caused back home. She pushed all thoughts of loved ones to the back of her mind, it only made her cry and feel sorry for herself, and her priority now was to survive.
The terrain changed. Now there were fewer trees and more shrubs, and it made her journey a little easier. On the other hand, there was less shade, and she began to worry her water wouldn’t last until she reached the river. She had eaten the last of the food she had stolen in the capital, along with all three jars of mincemeat.
She was surprised that this part of Togodo seemed to be uninhabited; she saw no one. She hadn’t decided what to do if she did meet people. Would it be better to hide or safer to ask for help? As she struggled on, she tried to calculate her speed and work out how many kilometres she covered each day. She knew she would have to find food somehow, and soon. In her head she heard Dirk telling her that any part of the Baobab tree was safe to eat, and on the second day she veered further inland when she spotted one of Africa’s majestic trees. She stood looking up at the tall, wrinkled trunk of the tree that looked as if it had been planted upside down. She would never be able to reach the leaves or fruit, even if it had been the right time of year. She sank down and looked around. There was a variety of plants growing nearby, but which ones were safe to eat?
She chose a thick fleshy plant, and tore off a leaf. The sap was clear and not creamy, so that was a good sign. She rubbed the leaf on the inside of her lower lip and sat back in the shade to wait. She had to judge the time as her watch had also been taken from her when she was thrown into prison. Feeling no ill effects, she next placed a small piece on her tongue to see if it tasted putrid, or it burnt or stung. The minutes ticked by; so far so good. She then nibbled a small piece of the leaf and waited as patiently as she could. It took a lot of self-control, as by now she was so hungry, it was tempting not to chew as many of the larger leaves as she could, as quickly as she could.
She dozed off in the heat of the midday sun and when she awoke, she decided she had proved this one plant was harmless. It might even do her some good. She ripped several more leaves off the plant and munched, pretending it was roast beef, or a large slice of quiche. She giggled, though whether from fear, or genuine happiness that she’d found a source of food, she wasn’t sure. Before she set off the following morning, she ripped up several of the plants and packed them into her rucksack. She reasoned they would shrivel up very quickly, but hoped they had propagated as far as the border.
The next day, she saw a puff adder lying in the sunshine. These were the snakes that did not get out of your way, ignoring the vibrations made by approaching feet. In her hurry to avoid it, Amie ran back several steps and gashed the back of her leg on a sharp thorn bush. She looked in horror as a thin trickle of blood ran down towards her ankle. Now she had two problems. The scent of blood travelled far across the veld, and might attract predators, and there was the
danger of infection.
She crept away from the slumbering snake putting a safe distance between them, and sat down to clean the wound and bandage it. Using as much of her precious water as she dared, she dabbed at the area around the wound as best she could, and then tried to tear off the bottom of her dress to use as a bandage. It looked so easy in the movies, she thought as she tugged and tugged, but the material would not give way. She tried to bite the seams, but only succeeded in hurting her teeth, so in the end she was forced to abandon her efforts and hope the gash would heal quickly.
She began to worry about getting heatstroke. Her legs were cramping more and more frequently, she often felt dizzy and her head ached badly. Her earlier strength was draining away as she doggedly put one foot in front of the other, but all too often, the landscape began to undulate in front of her. She was fearful of losing direction. What if she was not walking towards the border?
She stumbled over to one of the smaller thorn trees and attempted to scramble up into the first fork off the ground, but she simply didn’t have the strength to get there. She munched the remaining leaves and took several sips of water. Her supply was running very low and she knew she would have to find more very soon. The shimmering ground looked completely flat in all directions, and there wasn’t a dry river bed in sight. She rested up until the sun began to sink in the sky and then forced herself to her knees and using one of the empty water bottles, she dug a shallow hole in the ground. No sign of water at all but maybe she could catch a little dew.
Using a sharp stone, she cut one of the water bottles in half and placed it upright in the bottom of the hole. Over the top, she placed the large piece of plastic she had found at the Lodge, and weighted it down with large stones. Placing one stone carefully in the middle of the plastic directly over the bottle, she could only hope. Thank you, Dirk, thank you Dirk for passing on the knowledge, she said to herself over and over and over again.
Amie in Africa Box Set 1 Page 30
