by Anna del Mar
Christ, but I was fucked. I was angry at myself for feeling this way. I was mad at her for doing this to me. I couldn’t have her around. I just…couldn’t.
“This is a clusterfuck,” I bit out. “You’re leaving. You need to get the hell out of here.”
Her back straightened. Her shoulders squared. “Excuse me?”
“First thing tomorrow morning, you’re out of here.”
“What the hell?” She stared at me in disbelief. “Are you bipolar?”
“You’re now officially at the top of Kumbuyo’s shit list,” I said. “He won’t hesitate to come after you. This is a dangerous place and I can’t have people who don’t follow orders trampling all over.”
“I came to tell a story.” She whipped her imperious little chin the air. “And I will tell it.”
“Go tell your stories somewhere else,” I said. “Far from here, not in Africa.”
She opened her mouth, to rake me over the coals, I suspected, but a motor rumbled in the darkness and the beams of a pair of Land Rovers skewered the night, illuminating a herd of wildebeests in the distance and the fury gleaming in Jade’s eyes. I wasn’t so arrogant as to assume I’d had the same devastating effect on her that she had on me, but her anger was as real and powerful as the pain gutting me right now.
Get her out of here, Matthias, out of your life, before you get her killed too.
“Your ride’s here.” I said. “You’ll spend the night at the station and fly out tomorrow.”
She held herself very still. “I have permission to be here.”
“Don’t be so goddamn sure of yourself,” I said. “We’ve got a chain of command around here and that means I get paid to call the shots.”
“Congratulations on your pristine chain of command.” She snatched up her backpack and marched toward the vehicle. “But I’m staying.”
“I had a feeling about you.” I followed on her heels. “The moment I saw you, I said, ‘here’s trouble.’ And sure enough. You’re a pain in the ass. You know that?”
“I’ve been told. And Hawking?” She spun to confront me. “That pain in your ass? Better get used to it, because I’m staying, and don’t you forget it.”
Jade
What the hell had just happened? One minute Matthias had been kissing me, giving my body a run of pure bliss, vested in me as if the rest of the world didn’t exist, making me forget all my hard-fought resolutions. And then, the next moment, he was a grouch with an attitude, kicking me out as if I were yesterday’s news.
“Jade…” He blocked my path to the Land Rover. “Give me your camera, please.”
“My camera?” I hugged my backpack to my chest. “No way. You don’t have the right.”
“I’m game warden here.” He put out his hand. “Give me the damn camera.”
I reeled. “Haven’t you heard about freedom of the press?”
“I have the authority to collect evidence and your camera is evidence, so give it to me.”
“You’re a run of the mill, third world dictator, you know that?” I glared at him, pitching all the good things I’d learned about him and replacing the knowledge with a sense of complete outrage.
“If you don’t give me the camera, I’ll have to confiscate your entire backpack.”
“Fine.” I plunked my backpack on the truck’s hood and ripped it open. I rummaged through my equipment until I found what I needed. I pulled out the memory card and held it up in the air. “Is this what you want?”
He took the memory card from me and dropped it in his pocket. He opened the door to the backseat and jerked his chin. “Get in.”
That chin. It was the most expressive, annoying and dictatorial part of his body. I refused to follow his orders. I stalked around him, opened the front passenger door and, after climbing in next to Zeke, slammed the door shut.
Matthias leaned against the window. “Make sure she makes it to her room,” he said to Zeke. “And make sure she stays there. She’s a walking, talking liability. You got that?”
“Will do,” Zeke said.
“And you,” Matthias pointed his bossy index at me. “Don’t bother to unpack.” He tapped twice on the window frame, motioned toward the path with two fingers. “Go.”
His glare followed me into the night. I swear it reflected red, like a predator in the night. I squeezed my throbbing temples and groaned in frustration. That man? He made me crazy mad.
Zeke flashed his gap-toothed smiled. “Too much for your first night in Africa?”
“What the hell is wrong with him?” I said, fuming. “Is he always such a freaking bully?”
“He only throws his weight around if he has to,” Zeke said in his impeccable British accent as he maneuvered the truck through a narrow track in the bush to the screech of acacia thorns scraping on metal. “He might go at it a bit rough at times, but he means well.”
I fisted my hands on my lap and tried to forget we’d kissed. “I can’t believe he wanted my pictures.”
“There are a few things you ought to know,” Zeke offered. “His job is not easy. The last game warden, the one before Matthias? He and two of his rangers were shot dead the same day that they discovered the carcasses of thirty-three elephants by the north boundary.”
Such tragedy, such unimaginable carnage.
“But since Matthias arrived two years ago we haven’t lost a ranger or a single elephant,” Zeke said, turning onto a muddy track. “That giraffe back there will be the third animal that has fallen to poachers in the entire reserve. You may have to forgive Matthias’s mood tonight. He doesn’t like to lose and he blames himself for every single specimen a poacher takes from the reserve.”
Matthias’s stats were impressive, especially considering the reserve’s enormous size and the rangers’ limited resources. I’d seen firsthand how much he cared. I’d witnessed how he’d gone after those poachers all by himself. Any other man in his position would’ve waited for backup before he went after a bloodthirsty poaching crew. Not Matthias. He’d risked his life without a second thought.
My curiosity ratcheted up. A need to know more about him burned through me. Not because he’d kissed me, no. That had nothing to do with anything. I justified the impulse by telling myself that I needed to figure him out in order to achieve my goals. It was going to take some doing, because Matthias didn’t like answering questions as much as he liked asking them. But I was good at sleuthing and my CTS training with the SEALs would come in handy. I wasn’t out of the game yet. The game warden? I was going to figure him out.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. My temper had a way of getting away from me sometimes. Zeke reached over and gave my arm a little squeeze. It was a genuine gesture of friendship and it felt almost paternal to me.
“Matthias can be stubborn,” he said, “but don’t give up hope. Old African proverbs speak true. Even the colors of a chameleon are for survival, not beauty. Matthias is an outstanding person. Be patient with him and do try to remember that his decisions, harsh as they seem, are most likely for your benefit. Things can be fixed.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because I like you, Jade.”
“No offense, Zeke, but you don’t even know me.”
“I may not know you personally.” Zeke flashed his blinding white teeth. “But I know all about your work and I’m a big fan. Did you know that we use some of your documentaries for ranger training here?”
My heart gave an extra kick. I had no idea.
“I’m also a good judge of character.” Zeke stomped on the clutch and shifted gears. “We get lots of different types of people coming through the reserve. You’re something different, special. Brave, too. I don’t know many people who’d do what you did today. Matthias is my friend. It’s hard to keep up with him sometimes, but the rangers and I, we try to back him up. My take? If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”
“Another African proverb?”
&nbs
p; “Yes,” Zeke said. “From what I heard from him, you were an asset to him tonight.”
Matthias had told Zeke that?
“Thanks for the pep talk, Zeke. You’re really cool.”
“You know what they say here in Africa. The fool speaks, the wise listens.”
I smiled at him. “You are really into your sayings, aren’t you?”
“My wife collects them,” he said. “I try to put them to use.”
“Your wife’s a lucky one.”
He grinned back at me.
I centered my mind on the story I was going to write. The night was a whirlwind and I had to fight not to think about Matthias’s kiss. A memory of Kumbuyo’s cold eyes iced my gut.
“Kobe Kumbuyo spoke perfect English,” I muttered aloud.
“Educated in Europe,” Zeke said. “He probably speaks French and German as well.”
“Like you?”
Zeke nodded. “Like me, minus the sense of morality my mother drilled into me. Don’t make the mistake of assuming that Africa is not part of the global society, Jade. We’re not primitive savages. We’re up with the rest of the world.”
“I know that, I really do.” I remembered something Kumbuyo’s man had said tonight. “What does the word ‘Kifaru’ mean in Swahili?”
“Kifaru means rhinoceros in Swahili,” Zeke said. “They were probably talking about Pacha Ziwa’s great white rhino.”
I frowned. “I didn’t think there were white rhinos left in the reserve.”
“You’re correct,” Zeke said. “Unfortunately, they are all gone. The great white rhino of Pacha Ziwa is what some of the locals call Matthias.”
My lips turned up when I remembered him charging those poachers like a rhino bull. “The name suits him.”
“The name does suit him.” Zeke’s smile faltered. “He’s also in danger of extinction.”
I frowned. “Say what?”
“That was a very close call,” Zeke said. "Lamba has killed many rangers in Africa and Matthias is at the center of his crosshairs. There’s a very good chance that the poaching operation tonight was a trap designed to bait Matthias into the open. Matthias certainly thinks so. He’s the only thing standing between Lamba and the Serengeti. Kumbuyo came here to get Matthias out of the way.”
My heart fluttered in my stomach. My lips were parched, so I could barely get the words out. “Are you saying that…?”
“Ndiyo,” Zeke said. “There’s a price on Matthias’s head.”
6
Jade
I woke up to the sound effects of rain, not your regular drip-drop variety, but rather an orchestral interpretation that included everything from rumbling thunder to the pelting of a torrential storm attacking my bungalow’s thatched roof. The sound effects came with a wet face and a burning urge to pee.
I opened my eyes only to become the victim of an ocular assault. A drop hit me smack in the eye. I sat up startled, rubbing my eye. My pillow was wet. Hell, my T-shirt was wet too. The drenched mosquito net bowed over my head, dripping a steady stream. Beyond the net, above the wooden rafters, a trickle dropped from the ceiling. I looked around. The roof leaked in several places and puddles covered the floor.
I sprang out of the bed and jumped into action, but there wasn’t a lot I could do. I was the proud owner of a thin travel towel that would never do the job. Besides, I had to get my emergencies prioritized. The scratches on my arm burned and my bladder was about to burst.
I scurried over to the bathroom, which was separated from the bed only by a thin burlap curtain. I slid down my panties, plopped down on the toilet, and released my own biological version of the biblical flood. The roof leak in the bathroom missed the tub by only three inches.
I’d been warned about complaining, so it wasn’t an option. I tried to focus on the positives. From where I sat, I had a million-dollar view of the river, brown, swollen and overflowing its wide banks this fine morning, but hey, I had a water view.
Beyond the screened glass doors and the deck that comprised the whole back side of my rustic retreat, I spotted movement. A Nile crocodile swam in the river, a true, honest-to-God fifteen footer, eyeing my humble abode. I grinned. I was in Africa and I was watching this magnificent specimen from the comfort of a proper toilet. Out-freaking-standing.
Still flowing like the damn river, I surveyed my quarters under the light of day, recalling my arrival to the station last night. Zeke had delivered me to Claudette, the lodge’s manager. Claudette was a spectacular beauty with a flawless ebony complexion, a cascade of braids that flowed like a fountain from her crown, and a lovely, soothing accent. I’d followed her like a zombie to the main lodge, the only place with Wi-Fi at the station, from where I emailed news of my arrival to my parents and Hannah, along with a couple of other things.
Glad to hear you got in safe, Mom WhatsApped me right away.
And from Dad, Oorah.
For their sake, I hoped they never, ever heard about my encounter with Kobe Kumbuyo.
From the main lodge, I’d followed Claudette to my bungalow at the far end of the dilapidated walkway, away from the main lodge, and way past all of the other bungalows. The lodge had once been a boutique style, eco-friendly lodge, with thatched roofs, hardwood floors and high-end finishes, a sanctuary for civilization’s wealthiest escapees. At some point, the resort had gone bust and the Pacha Ziwa foundation had picked it up for peanuts and used it to house the offices, staff, and researchers who worked at the reserve.
Once we got to my room, Claudette helped me make the bed with clean, crisp sheets stamped with Property of Pacha Ziwa Reserve across the hem. I didn’t think I’d been very talkative, but I hoped I’d come across as grateful. After she left, I’d cleaned up in the cool outdoor shower and crashed on the big bed. Since then, I’d been in a sleep coma.
My view from the toilet revealed that my bungalow was no longer posh. The deck paint was peeling off, the furnishings were old and stained, and, well, there was the small matter of all those roof leaks. The place came with three hours of generator-powered electricity a day and no Wi-Fi or hot water, but I hadn’t expected any of that.
On the positive side, the bungalow’s vaulted ceilings and the open concept gave the place an airy feeling. The dark mahogany floors retained a classic sheen and the king size bed was huge, even if the mattress was a bit lumpy. So, yeah, it was raining inside, but the place had charm.
With my most urgent business out of the way, I went for the basics. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, ditched my wet T-shirt, and dried myself with my precious towel. I checked my gear. It was high and dry on the rustic wood shelves that served as an open-face closet. A Ziploc bag was stuffed at the top and with it, came a note:
Not essential, I know, but cute, in case you go on a date. Love Mom.
I smiled and opened the bag. It held a pair of silver sandals and a new, black cotton dress. I hung the dress on a perch and put the sandals away. I had no intention of going on a date while at work in Africa, but it was really sweet of Mom. I checked my cell. The battery was dead, so I had no way to tell the time. The solidly gray day provided me with no real clues. So much for star-based navigation.
The annoying tapping I’d been hearing for a while finally registered in my brain as insistent knocks at the door.
“Hang on,” I shouted over the sound of the rain.
I rummaged through my duffel, found my yoga pants and my black tank top, and dressed quickly. On my way to the door, I slipped on a puddle. “Shit.” I recovered swiftly. “I’m coming!”
I undid the lock and opened the door. Matthias stood on my stoop, wearing khaki cargos and a green military style T-shirt beneath an olive rain jacket. The tones played up the hazel in his eyes. He looked clean-shaven and fresh, despite the bruise on his cheek. It was lot smaller than I expected when I remembered last night. Matthias must be a fast healer. He showed none of the wear and tear I felt in my bones. He stared at me as if I were an alien from another planet.
“What?” I said impatiently, making sure I blocked his view of the room, afraid he’d boot me out if he knew how bad the leak situation was inside.
He hesitated, shifting his weight from one boot to the other. “I…we…we were worried because we hadn’t heard from you today. I thought maybe I…we…needed to check on you.”
“Well, bad news for you.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the threshold. “I’m alive. What time is it anyway?”
He looked at his watch. “Two fifteen, something like that.”
Wow. I’d slept a long time. I could see why he’d gotten worried.
“I come bearing gifts.” He picked up the plastic laundry basket by his feet. “May I?”
I shrugged, but he started to come in anyway. I had no choice but to hold the door open for him.
He lumbered into the bungalow, took in the small waterfalls trickling through the roof, and whistled aloud. “This is worse than I thought.”
“It’s fine.” I closed the door behind him. “I can deal with it.”
“Can you now?” He gave me a skeptical stare.
“Look,” I said, “if you’re here to evict me—”
“Don’t get all bent out of shape just yet.” He deposited the basket on the wobbly coffee table. “Peace. Okay? I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
“Okay,” I mumbled dubiously. If he thought I was going to change my mind or give up on my assignment, he was crazy.
“You and I.” He motioned between us. “Fresh start. All right?”
I eyed him with suspicion. What was he up to?
“Like I said, I brought buckets.”
“Huh?”
“For the leaks.” He lifted a pile of stacked buckets out of the basket. “To collect the water?”
“Ooh.”
It was the best housewarming gift I could think of at the moment and I didn’t waste any time. I grabbed the top two buckets and stomped off to place them under the nearest leaks. He grabbed some buckets too. After studying the trajectory of the leaks with a lot more care than I did, he placed them around the room in strategic positions. With the major leaks in check, the only remaining one was the one over my bed. I braced my hands on the bed frame and pushed with all my might. The massive frame didn’t budge, not even an inch.
