Amie in Africa Box Set 1

by Lucinda E Clarke

  “You’re despicable.”

  “No, just human, and a piece of tender white flesh will suffice for now. Pretty little thing, aren’t you?” Ken leaned over and stroked her hair. Amie recoiled.

  “No need to be like that. Think of it as your last bit of heaven before you go to join your ancestors.”

  “You’re disgusting,” Amie spat at him, but he only laughed.

  “That’s better, I like them feisty. Makes the conquest all the more fun.”

  Ken lunged at her and dragged her onto the camp cot, which tipped dangerously as Amie landed on her back. Next minute Ken was fumbling at her clothes. He tore at her shirt ripping the buttons off, and hooking his finger under the front of her bra, snapped it before cutting it away with the knife he still held in his hand.

  Amie squirmed and shrieked but that only made Ken laugh louder. He lowered his free hand to undo his trouser zip, then turning his attention to the fastening on her trousers, he tugged at them until they slid over her hips. Amie shrieked again, wriggling and resisting as much as she could. He was lying partly on top of her now, and with one hand he grabbed her manacled wrists and forced them above her head, the knife waving dangerously in front of her nose. Amie kicked out, aiming at his testicles, but he was too quick for her and pinned her legs with his. All the while he was grinning, white teeth stark against his shiny, sweaty, black skin.

  “Oh, this is great, better than I could have dreamed. About time someone tamed you and put you in your place,” he was gasping with exertion as Amie continued to fight him, legs pounding the cot canvas, squirming and throwing herself from side to side.

  He lifted his right hand and pointed the knife at her throat again. “Be better if you just let me remove all this unnecessary clothing, and have my way, little Amie, or I might be tempted to really hurt you.” He moved the knife higher and rested it on her cheek just below her eye.

  She froze, fixated on the gleaming metal point less than an inch from her eyeball. And she knew he would do it. She let herself go limp and stopped fighting.

  “That’s better,” Ken sniggered. “Now lie back and think of England, isn’t that what you stuck up British girls say?” He roared with laughter as he ripped her panties off.

  22 BREAKOUT

  Amie howled. This was the worst thing that had ever happened to her, worse than fighting for her life in the war, worse than fighting to stay alive crossing the desert, worse than rotting in a prison cell. This was a violation of her body, her self-esteem, the humiliation of the act, helplessness. She understood for the first time how women felt when they’d been raped.

  Just as Amie began to lose all hope, Ken’s body lifted off hers and was flung across to the other side of the tent. Simon stood there, with the scalpel in his hand. With one swift move, he grabbed Ken’s knife and stabbed him in the stomach with both weapons, twisting them as he withdrew them. Ken curled into the foetal position, whimpering and rocking from side to side.

  Amie stared at him in a total trance. One moment he’d had the power of life and death over her, the next he was reduced to a whimpering baby, blood leaking between his fingers as he clutched the wound.

  Simon sliced the cable ties around Amie’s wrists. “Felicity, snap out of it! Move! Get dressed! Hurry!”

  For a split-second Amie wondered who he was talking to, and then she remembered she was Felicity, and that her breasts and pubic area were exposed. She quickly drew her shirt over her ruined bra, pulling on her panties and trousers with her newly freed hands. She scrambled to her feet and rushed to the entrance of the tent. The carnage outside shocked her. There were three bodies lying around the camp area, each one had been stabbed and on the far side of the clearing, Karen was clubbing another of the men with a metal saucepan. “Use anything you can see as a weapon,” Amie recalled her instructor telling her at the Residence.

  “Th …there are more of them,” Amie spluttered. “They went to find my phone by the elephant. They could be back any moment.”

  Karen stood up, satisfied that the last blow had cracked her victim’s skull. “How many?”

  “I’ve no idea, at least two, maybe more.”

  Bob appeared, still rubbing his ankles and wrists. “Karen and I’ll go and sort them out.” He indicated the camp area now strewn with corpses. “If they see this they’ll be well warned.”

  “They’ll probably run,” Simon observed.

  “And return with how many extra ‘friends’? No, we’ll make sure no one is left behind.” Bob looked grim.

  “Count me in,” Karen picked up her victim’s gun.

  After checking the weapons the men had been too slow to use were loaded, and helping themselves to extra ammunition from the Land Rover, they set off after the rest of Ken’s men.

  “Put the kettle on, Felicity, we’ll probably need a cuppa when we return,” Karen grinned, making light of the situation, but to Amie, she was a fully trained killing machine, hyped and ready for action.

  They disappeared between the trees and Amie turned to Simon. “I still don’t know what’s going on,” she said, going back into the other tent to find a spare bra and another top.

  Simon filled the kettle with bottled water. “I don’t know the whole story, but you must tell me what Ken was talking about, you were a long time with him.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Amie grimaced dabbing at the dried blood on her neck. She noticed that already the vultures were circling overhead. They could smell a carcass from over a mile away and there was now plenty of dead meat lying about the camp site.

  She rummaged around and found two tin mugs and spooned coffee into both. “Sugar?”

  “Two please.”

  “This is bizarre,” Amie observed, “one moment we’re fighting for our lives and the next we’re brewing coffee.”

  “Make tea for Karen. I’m starving, too,” Simon went to look for the food boxes in the back of the Nissan.

  Amie watched him. Was he friend or foe? Could she trust him? If Ken had managed to infiltrate the Civil Service – or was it really the British Secret Service – it would have been even easier for Simon. She thought back to his strange behaviour that first weekend. She’d definitely seen him down on the plain when the arms demonstration was taking place. Who was he working for? Not the Free Africa from the White Man group for sure. He must have a different agenda. She didn’t feel comfortable remembering his abrupt manner and his idea of a luxurious romantic break which turned out to be something quite different. Yet, unaccountably, she still felt an attraction to him, it would be difficult not to, he was so good looking she couldn’t deny that.

  She fetched some blankets from the tents and covered the men lying on the ground. Nervously, she touched each one to make sure they were dead before turning her back on them. She could almost persuade herself they were not there. Simon returned carrying some biscuits and biltong, and sat down next to the fire.

  “We ought to keep a look out,” Amie remarked. “The others might just miss them coming back.”

  “Mmmm, good point.” Simon didn’t seem too concerned, he was too busy ripping into the packet of biscuits.

  Amie sighed. There was no reason to hang around here, the smell of death filled her nostrils and the vultures were flying ever lower in tighter circles. Movement at the edge of the clearing caught her eye, then another over to the left.

  “Simon!” she hissed. “Lions!”

  His head jerked up and he saw them too. There were at least four of them, not lions but lionesses, crouched low on the ground, shoulders hunched, tails flicking from side to side. Were they fixating on the two live humans or the dead ones?

  Amie looked for a handy gun, but the two rifles she could see on the ground were closer to the animals and she would never reach them in time. She sucked in air between her teeth. Apart from the bloody knives in Simon’s belt, a kettle full of boiling water and a saucepan, she could see no handy weapon.

  The lioness directly ahead inched forward a couple of
feet, never taking her eyes off them. The large cats rarely attacked humans, but here they were sitting among dead bodies, just there for the taking.

  A sudden movement on the right; a lioness pounced on one of the blankets, dragging it off the body. She growled as she flung it from side to side before dropping it and returning for the dead man. She took hold of an ankle and dragged his body backwards, growling at the back of her throat. Amie watched in fascinated horror, then swivelled when she perceived another lioness behind her. She and Simon were completely surrounded. If it was a big pride, more might follow. As if reading her thoughts one of the lionesses threw her head back and roared. The sound was chilling and Amie’s blood ran cold.

  “Could we make a run for one of the trucks?” whispered Simon.

  “I don’t think we’d make it. We’d have to open the doors and that would take time, and the tailgates are open on two of them anyway.”

  “Any bright ideas?”

  “The tents are a lot closer. They won’t be much protection, some lionesses have learned how to rip them open with their claws, but it’s better than nothing.”

  Amie squinted at the animals again making sure not to stare directly at them. They stood like statues, but she was worried if she and Simon tried to move, the cats would pounce, once in motion they could run incredibly fast.

  “I think we need to try, they won’t sit and wait forever. The green tent over to the left is closest, we could try and make for that,” she murmured.

  “One at a time …?”

  “No, both together one step at a time, slow and smooth. Count to three?”

  “OK. One, two, three …”

  Amie tensed her legs, ready to leap at the last minute if she had to. With baited breath she took one tentative step backwards, then another, then a third. She kept moving, concentrating on keeping her balance. The hairs on the back of her neck were raised like hackles, the skin on her back crawling. She imagined the lioness behind her springing forward, the stench from its hot breath, its huge paws landing on her shoulders before twisting her round to bite into the soft part of her neck that would kill her.

  Her hand sought the tent flap behind and she flung herself the last few feet, twisting and diving onto the groundsheet, landing just inside with Simon on top of her. They both leopard-crawled forward until they were fully inside and Simon zipped up the flap in one motion.

  “Are we safe in here?” he whispered.

  “No.” Amie pointed to the shadow prowling around the outside, it was joined by a second. Their heads swivelled round as silhouettes appeared on all sides. Only a thin, green, cage of nylon material was between them and the predators. Amie and Simon huddled together taking comfort from each other while they watched in morbid fascination. The smell from the big cats was overwhelming, and the growls and snuffling noises were terrifying.

  There was a ripping noise on one side as a claw ripped at the tent wall and split it from top to bottom. A large, pinkish-brown nose appeared in the opening. Simon picked up a kerosene lamp off the box table and bashed the cat as hard as he could on the nose.

  It yelped and sprang back, then roared in fury. On the other side of the tent more tears appeared, yet a third animal pushed hard against the zip holding the flaps together.

  We’re never going to get out of this alive, thought Amie, shaking with fear. To her shame and embarrassment, she felt her bladder empty, an extra incentive for the creatures outside.

  While Simon still hung on to the lamp, Amie searched frantically for another weapon but there was precious little to hand. Then she had an idea.

  “Simon is there fuel in that lamp?” she gasped.

  He shook it. “A little.”

  “Fire! We can set fire to the tent, that’ll scare them off.”

  “Are you mad?”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  Simon shook his head.

  Amie grabbed a discarded t-shirt off the cot and Simon poured the paraffin onto the cotton.

  “You have matches, or a lighter?” he asked her.

  “I had a lighter in my pocket but it’s gone. Damn! There must be something around here,” Amie hunted frantically through the contents of the bags and cases under the cot. “Here!” Triumphantly she waved a box of matches in the air.

  “So, what now? Do we open the flap and walk outside waving this like a flag? If we set the tent alight, we’d be burned to a crisp before we got out.”

  Amie noticed there were no dark shapes near the front flaps. “Yeah, I think that’s our best hope.”

  Simon looked askance at her. “Are you insane?”

  “Definitely.” Amie wrapped the soaked t-shirt round a metal flask and set fire to it.

  After taking sanctuary in the only place that might have protected them, they were now leaving it to face yet another enemy. Amie had no idea if her plan might work, but she was never going to find out.

  The instant Amie’s hand reached for the bottom of the zip ready to wrench it upwards, one of the lionesses ripped through the light canvas causing a draft of air which flared their homemade torch. They heard several shots in the distance at exactly the same moment as the roof caught fire.

  With loud yelps the lions made off, disappearing into the bush.

  “Felicity, hurry!” screamed Simon as the nylon tent burst into flames. Amie gave up trying to open the flap, and as one, she and Simon dived through the flames out of the torn side of the tent and into the clearing, rolling over and over on the ground to put out the sparks that danced on their thin clothing.

  She pushed herself up into a kneeling position, coughing and spluttering, and for a few moments she couldn’t see Simon in the smoke. She heard Karen approach before she saw her standing there, gun in hand.

  “What the fuck is going on?” she exclaimed. “You trying to kill yourselves?”

  “No,” Simon replied for them both. “We were surrounded by lions …”

  “Lionesses …” Amie corrected him and then wanted to kick herself.

  “Let’s hope to God it doesn’t spread.” Karen was stamping on the sparks that were skittering across the dusty ground, the nylon fireball all but out by now.

  Amie grabbed a leafy branch to beat out the flames.

  “I think it’s time to get out of here,” Simon spoke for all of them.

  “The lionesses will be back.” Amie nodded towards the one remaining dead body, the others had already been dragged away.

  “Where’s Bob?” Simon looked beyond Karen.

  “Sorry, he didn’t make it,” Karen replied. “The men got him first. I only just escaped myself. What were those poachers doing there?”

  “Oh, God no! It’s all my fault. Ken sent them there to look for my mobile, which was never there anyway. Poor Bob, I’m so sorry.” Amie sobbed. Kind, friendly Bob, he’d been the only one she’d completely trusted and those animals, the two-legged ones, had murdered him. He wouldn’t even get to have a proper funeral.

  As if reading her thoughts Karen said, “There was no way I could’ve brought him back. The place is crawling with carrion. I wanted to bring him back, I did, but there was a whole group of leopards there and I wasn’t going to tangle with those. There’s not a lot left of the elephant. It must have fed half the game park by now.”

  “I’m not even sure if we’re in a game park,” Amie said. “There must be some way we can go and get his body. The least we can do is give him a proper burial, pile stones over him to stop the animals … something.”

  “You can go back if you like,” Karen was brusque, “but leave me out of it. I’m ready to go home.”

  “We do need to get out of here, and fast,” Simon agreed with her. “One, or two vehicles?”

  “It means someone has to drive alone, but we’d be safer if we take both, in case there’s a problem with one of them.” Karen frowned.

  “Felicity and I’ll take the Nissan, Simon, you drive the Isuzu.”

  “Wait,” Karen paused. “Where’s Peter? H
e was in charge of this little lot, right?”

  “Another unfortunate accident I’m afraid,” Simon replied.

  “Dead?”

  “Yes, Karen. He won’t be bothering us anymore,” Amie reassured her.

  “Then we’d better get out of here, we might have a lot of explaining to do if someone comes by.”

  They raced around the campsite salvaging anything useful for the trip back to Durban. Despite the frantic rush, Amie took time to change into clean trousers after her embarrassing accident losing control of her bladder, while Karen stood guard with the shotgun. The lions could reappear any moment, though Amie prayed that the dead humans they’d dragged away would be enough to take the edge off their appetite. She shuddered when she thought how close she and Simon had come to being dinner themselves.

  They made no attempt to leave the clearing as they’d found it. The fire was extinguished, some of the tents were left behind, along with anything non-essential. They remembered the bad road on the way in, perhaps with less weight, it would be an easier ride back. Amie looked again at the much newer Land Rovers Ken’s men had brought in, and was grateful she didn’t have to hotwire those. They were probably all electronic.

  “Let me drive.” Karen walked round to the right of the Nissan and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Simon, are you ready?”

  “Yes, I’ll be right behind you.” Simon didn’t sound all that happy to be travelling alone. It wasn’t always the nicest experience even if you were familiar with bush life.

  The SUVs set off in convoy along the rough track towards the road. As they twisted and turned around the bushes, following the faint tyre marks left in the dust, something began to bother Amie. There was something she’d missed but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Amie pulled her handbag out from under the seat, searched for her cell phone and turned it on. It was dead, flat battery. She sighed and rummaged in the glove compartment for the in-car charger. She plugged it in before turning to her companion. “Karen, you were in the car with Peter driving up here, didn’t he give you any clue that he wasn’t really working for the British government?”