Outbreak

by Chris Ryan

  Abele stayed where he was.

  'You have to leave now, Abele…'

  Russell spoke with all the urgency he could muster, but he was interrupted by the black man.

  'Ben is in danger,' Abele said curtly. 'You are both in danger. What is happening?'

  Russell was breathing heavily, almost gasping for air. 'The reservoir,' he choked, before his whole body was overcome by monstrous coughing.

  Abele looked perplexed.

  'Ben was just with me,' Russell struggled to say when the spasm had subsided. His eyes rolled in their sockets.

  'No,' Abele stated. 'I have not seen him for two days. You are ill, Mr Russell. I think you do not know what you are saying.'

  Russell pushed his tongue out of his mouth – Abele could see it looked furred and unpleasant – and used it weakly to lick his bloodied lips. 'How do you know Ben is in trouble?'

  'I heard Suliman talking. He said his men were tracking him, but I do not know where.'

  Suddenly Russell gripped the edge of the bed, and he held on as tightly as his weakened arms would allow. 'The room is spinning,' he muttered. He took some tremulous breaths before continuing his conversation with Abele. 'What else did you hear?'

  'They are bringing more men in from the next village to work the mine,' Abele told him. He seemed about to say something else, but was interrupted by Russell's attempts to speak. What came out of his mouth, though, were not words but a garbled sequence of sounds. A blankness came over his expression, and he passed out.

  'Mr Russell.' Abele spoke loudly so as to awaken him. 'Mr Russell!' But it was no good.

  Abele thought for a moment. Apart from having established that Russell had succumbed to the illness, he was no wiser as a result of the conversation. He had no option but to confront Suliman. And quickly.

  But he hesitated to leave.

  His fingers reached inside his shirt and toyed for a moment with the shiny metal amulet that hung on the black leather thong round his neck. Almost instinctively, his fingers traced the indentation of the symbol it bore, round and round the shape of the eye as he seemed to be deciding something. Suddenly he clasped the amulet in the palm of his hand and pulled it over his head, before gently putting it round Russell's neck. The Englishman's skin felt burning hot to the touch. Abele muttered something under his breath, a chant of some sort, or a prayer.

  And then he turned and left, feeling strangely naked, but knowing what he had to do.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  'Stop running!'

  Ben grabbed Halima by the arm and they came to a halt. Both of them were wide-eyed with shock, and Ben could feel Halima's body shaking. 'We can't lose our bearings,' he urged. 'The snake has gone. We have to keep heading east.'

  Halima nodded vigorously, her face still displaying signs of panic, and the two of them looked around as they tried to work out where they were. 'This way, I think,' Ben murmured.

  The direction in which he pointed was strewn with mossy boulders. There was no natural pathway as such, but it seemed for the moment as though they would be able to walk east without encountering foliage that was too impenetrable. They walked in silence, their encounter with the black mamba encouraging them to pay close attention to where they put their feet. Ben was glad he was wearing his reasonably robust trainers; Halima's worn sandals looked like they would afford her less protection if she put a foot wrong.

  The trauma of the snake behind them, Ben realized how desperately thirsty he was. It had been twentyfour hours since he had drunk anything, and his parched mouth felt thick and leathery. 'If only it would start raining,' he observed half to himself.

  'No,' said Halima. 'We don't want to get caught in the rains. They can be very fierce.'

  Ben thought back to the incessant rains that had preceded the London floods. Something about the greenhouse-humidity of the air in the rainforest forced him to concede that a downpour here could be even worse than that. 'Whatever,' he murmured. 'Anyway, we need to find some water soon.'

  Halima nodded, unconsciously licking her lips. 'But even when we find it, we need to be careful about what we use. Not all the water in the forest is drinkable.'

  It sounded ominous to Ben, and he felt like changing the subject. 'You all right?' he asked. 'About the snake, I mean.'

  'Yes,' Halima replied quietly.

  'Pretty scary, huh?'

  'Yes,' Halima repeated with an amused smile. 'Pretty scary.' The phrase sounded strange in her African accent. Then her voice became serious. 'The forest is a pretty scary place. How are you feeling?'

  Ben understood what she was asking. They both knew that he had every chance of falling ill. Ben himself had tried to ignore that possibility, but it was entirely reasonable for Halima to ask. If Ben succumbed, she'd be on her own. 'I'm fine.' He smiled at her. 'So far.'

  'Good.' Halima nodded in satisfaction. 'I think perhaps the ancestors are not angry with us.'

  Ben opened his mouth as if to argue, but at the last moment thought better of it. Besides, there was something about what Halima had just said that made him feel a bit better about everything.

  They continued to trek through the foliage.

  Halima's face was a picture of concentration as they picked their way through the trees; Ben was concentrating too, not only on his surroundings, but on other things. Halima's question had brought to the front of his mind something that he had been trying not to deal with: the image of his father, weak and suffering. Possibly dying. With everything that had happened since he left the village, the horrible reality of his dad's situation had eluded him. Now, though, the facts of the desperate situation came flooding back to him, and it felt as though someone had thumped him in the stomach.

  His dad was being so brave. Braver than Ben would have ever expected. He had to keep focused. Do what Russell had implored him to do. He had to make sure it wasn't all for nothing.

  Suddenly Halima hissed, 'Stay still!'

  Ben froze. He had been so resolutely checking his footing that he had momentarily taken his eyes off what was happening in front of him. Now he stood perfectly still as he took in the scene ahead. There was a clearing – more spacious than the one they had slept in that night, but not much – which at first glance appeared to be empty. Ben quickly saw, however, that it would be unwise to step into it. About five metres away, sitting quite still and eyeing them with a disconcertingly human look in its eyes, was a gorilla. Ben returned its gaze, instantly realizing with something of a shudder that the face he had seen in the dying evening light the night before had been one of these creatures. The same one that was a short stone's throw away from him now? Perhaps, perhaps not. But the fact that one of these beasts had been watching them last night and had left them in peace somehow didn't make him feel much better.

  And yet he knew that these were peaceful creatures, as long as you let them be. He instantly suspected that these were eastern lowland gorillas, the endangered animals he had read so much about before coming. They were only to be found in these parts of the Democratic Republic of Congo, and were herbivores, living mainly off leaves. As if to confirm this information, the gorilla started chewing slowly, all the while keeping his eyes on Ben and Halima. You would be a fool, however, to assume that just because they were endangered herbivores they were not dangerous. These were the largest known primates – the males reaching a weight of up to two hundred and fifty kilograms – and they tended to live in small groups. These normally consisted of a silverback male, a couple of less dominant males and a number of females. With a squint, Ben saw the telltale white markings on the back of this huge mammal that indicated it was indeed the silverback. He would do whatever was necessary to protect the group.

  There was a rustling in the bushes. Appearing with a surprising amount of grace for such enormous creatures, two other gorillas appeared, flanking the silverback on either side. Their huge domed heads and flat noses made them look terrifyingly aggressive, and they even seemed to jut their chins out pugnaciously.<
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  Ben knew that he was privileged to be seeing what he was seeing; but somehow it just didn't seem that way at the moment.

  As though joined at the hip, Ben and Halima took a step backwards. The silverback continued to chew, seemingly unconcerned by the movement given that it was in the right direction, but keeping his eyes on the duo nonetheless. 'He's letting us go,' Ben breathed to Halima.

  'We must move slowly,' Halima whispered. 'If we startle him, he will attack.'

  Ben felt distinctly uncomfortable walking backwards, unable to see what was behind him, and acutely aware that he could be treading on anything – the image of the black mamba rearing above him was still fresh in his mind. But there was something about the magnetic gaze of the impressive creature in front of him that kept his eyes locked ahead. He almost felt a pang of regret as the gorilla slipped from his sight.

  As soon as they were alone, Ben and Halima turned to look at each other. Halima made a circular gesture with her arm which Ben understood as meaning they should make their way around the group, if possible. He nodded his agreement and they quietly set off. As they skirted round where they believed the gorillas to be, Ben found himself almost breathless with excitement. Surely hardly anyone got as close as that to such magnificent creatures. He felt fortunate; he also felt as though the jungle had set them a test, and they had passed. What was it Halima had said? That there was only one way to survive in the jungle, and that was to accept its ways. If that was true, what had just happened was a good omen.

  The thought made Ben smile. Omens? He was beginning to sound like Halima.

  He put such ideas from his mind and continued to follow his companion through the forest.

  Abele ran from the compound, ignoring the stares from passers-by as he did so. Perhaps Suliman would still be in his office, alone. That was just how Abele wanted him – unable to escape, unable to do anything except give him answers. His exertions, along with the increasing heat and the humidity, soon doused him in sweat, but he kept running, determined to find out what was going on, and to find it out fast.

  He left the village and started on the long straight road that led to the mine. In the distance he saw the shimmering apparition of people coming the other way. They seemed to wobble and flicker in the haze of the heat, and at first Abele could not establish how many of them there were. Not that it matters, he thought to himself. There's only one person I'm interested in, and I know where he is.

  Soon enough, though, the apparition became more distinct. There were three men: two of them well built, the one in the middle tall but more slight. His head was shaved and his nose was long.

  Suliman.

  Abele soon saw that he was standing still, as though waiting for him in the road. The two men on either side of him stood slightly to the front. Unlike the man who had been guarding the Englishmen's compound, however, these two were armed – heavily. Kalashnikovs were strapped round their necks and ammunition belts hung loosely about their waists. Abele ignored them. His business was with Suliman himself, and he didn't intend to be intimidated by his crew. His broad brow furrowed and his shoulders hunched in anticipation of a confrontation, he headed straight for the unsmiling mine manager. 'Suliman!' he roared.

  The men showed no flicker of acknowledgement, though they continued to stare at Abele, who marched inexorably towards them, violence on his face.

  As he approached, however, Suliman's guards closed ranks. They aimed their weapons at Abele's torso, and barked at him in Kikongo to stop right where he was. Abele had no option but to comply. 'I am not afraid of your guns,' he said darkly.

  'I can see that, Abele,' Suliman rasped. 'You are obviously even more stupid than you look. Mr Kruger was right about you.'

  Abele's face became filled with fury. 'What's going on?' he demanded harshly in the African dialect. 'What idiotic things have you been doing? Where is Mr Ben?'

  'Why are you so concerned?' Suliman asked with a sneer.

  'They are my responsibility,' Abele replied. 'I haven't seen Mr Ben for two days now, and I think you know what has happened to him.'

  'You think too much,' Suliman snapped, his patience wearing thin, 'and you are not very good at it.' Then he smiled. 'You have sided with the wrong team,' he said smoothly. 'Your precious Mr Tracey is at death's door; his idiotic son will be waiting for him on the other side when he gets there. As for you' – his face crumpled up into a look of the utmost distaste – 'you seem to be little more than a slave to these white men. It would give me great pleasure to kill you now, so that you are waiting for them when their miserable lives come to an end. Fortunately for you, Mr Kruger wants to keep the unnatural deaths to a minimum.'

  'Kruger.' Abele repeated the name with distaste, then spat at Suliman's feet. The bald man's eyes narrowed. 'It sounds to me,' Abele growled, 'as if the only slave round here is you. Kruger has you in the palm of his hand, eh?'

  Suliman smiled. 'I'm being well paid for what I'm doing. That's the difference between you and me. And make no mistake, I have no qualms about silencing you if you force me to do so, no matter what Mr Kruger says.'

  As he spoke, one of the guards threw him a questioning look. Suliman seemed to consider the unspoken query. 'No,' he said finally, his voice tinged with regret. 'Not here. Anyway, he might be useful. If by any chance the young people do make it back to the village, they will no doubt try to find this fool.' He sneered. 'They seem to have an adventurous streak. When they come looking for him, we'll just round them up.'

  Suliman went over to one of his guards and gestured at him to hand over his Kalashnikov. The guard did as he was told while his colleague kept his own gun firmly trained on Abele. Suliman held the rifle carelessly and approached Abele. He poked the barrel of the gun firmly into the burly man's ribs. Abele stood tall, refusing to give Suliman the reaction he so clearly craved, so Suliman tried a bit harder, whipping the edge of the gun fiercely across the side of Abele's face. His head was knocked to the side, but he immediately turned it back to look straight at Suliman, displaying a thin streak of blood along the middle of his cheek. He stared balefully at his attacker, who could not stand that look for long and turned his back, handing the weapon back to his guard.

  'Take him to the holding area I told you about,' he commanded, still failing to catch Abele's eye. 'Make sure there is someone watching over him all the time.'

  Abele spat at him once more.

  'And if he tries to escape,' Suliman continued in a deadpan voice, 'put a bullet in his skull.'

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  'They came this way.'

  Suliman's men looked at each other. One of them was taller than the other, and his face had a pale scar reaching from his forehead to the top of his cheek. The other smaller man was distinguished by crooked yellow teeth that seemed precariously pegged into a set of red, sore-looking gums. 'Look here,' the taller man continued, pointing at where the foliage had been forced back to allow someone passage through. He pulled a small compass out of the pocket of his sleeveless shirt and checked his bearings. 'It looks like they're heading back to Udok.' He nodded with satisfaction. 'They'll have to cross the river, and the only place it's safe to do that is where it passes to the north of the village. If we don't catch up with them beforehand, we can deal with the idiots there.'

  The smaller man sneered before pulling a water bottle out from his belt and taking a sparing glug. 'They're probably dead already,' he observed nonchalantly when he had finished. 'Only a fool would come into the forest without a gun.'

  His colleague didn't respond.

  'Come on,' the smaller man urged his friend. 'You know what they say about the forests north of the village. You don't want to find yourself there any more than I do. We should just return to the road, ambush a car and get back. Tell Suliman we killed them – he'll never know.'

  His colleague seemed to consider that for a moment, but then shook his head in disagreement. As he did so, both men heard a low-pitched grunt. They looked sharply at each oth
er, then simultaneously slung their Kalashnikovs round so that they were pointing in front of them; then they manoeuvred themselves to stand with their backs facing each other.

  They heard the noise again, and movement in the trees beyond them.

  'This way,' the taller man whispered. They walked side by side, stealthily, until it became apparent to them what was making the noise.

  A gorilla sat, squat and alone, among the bushes a few metres away from them. It was not a silverback like the one Ben and Halima had encountered, but a young female, and she did not appear to be paying them any attention whatsoever. She reached out one of her arms and lazily plucked a handful of leaves from the surrounding greenery, then stuffed them in her mouth and started to chew, her hairy face gurning rather comically as she did so.

  The eyes of the taller man narrowed. 'You want to see why I'm not scared of the forest?' he asked. 'It's because I have a gun, which makes me the strongest.' He licked his lips, then raised the rifle and took aim.

  The gorilla looked up at him, but of course she had no idea what was happening.

  When the man fired, it was as if someone had shaken the very roots of the trees. Birds screeched and flew away, and the aftermath of the shockwaves through the forest lasted long after the sound of the gun had ebbed away. As the frenzy of movement died, however, one sound remained. The gorilla had been knocked onto her back, a red welt on her left shoulder indicating the entry point of the ghastly wound that had just been inflicted upon her. She was making a series of pitiful yelps, as she clumsily tried to use her right hand to brush away the pain that she did not understand. It only took thirty seconds or so, however, for her energy to be depleted, and now she lay on the ground, her long arms listless beside her, her eyes flickering as she slowly began to bleed to death.