“Drop your weapon or I will shoot you” said the man with a heavy Shona accent. “Wakasimba ere shamwari? Are you okay my friend?” he said to the man on the floor.
There was a groan from the floor behind me.
“Andina kusimba, he has broken my nose.”
I stood there glancing between the two of them, the wheel spanner still in my hand.
“Drop your weapon now murungu !” the man growled.
The wheel spanner fell with a loud clang to the tiled floor and I stood still with the gun and torch beam in my face. Behind me I heard the first man getting up off the floor.
“Get the laptop. We have what we came for. Let's go” said the man with the gun.
“You are very lucky my friend. Mr Kriel was not as lucky as you.” He held the hard drive up to show me. “Stay out of matters that do not concern you.”
The man behind me coughed and spluttered as he got up off the floor. I stood frozen in the glare of the torch light as he moved around me to my right. It was then that he pistol-whipped me with the butt of his gun. The crushing impact was unexpected as he struck above my right ear. Immediately I saw a cluster of bright white stars and felt my body falling in slow motion on to the bed. The last thing I saw was the dark figures of the two men quietly leaving the room and closing the sliding doors. Then there was only darkness.
I became conscious a few minutes later. There was an intense throbbing pain to the right of my head and with my eyes still closed I slowly raised my right hand to investigate it. My hair was wet and slippery with blood.
“Bastards” I said under my breath as I lay there.
A few minutes later the throbbing pain had subsided enough for me to lift myself from the bed. I groaned as I pushed myself up to reach for the bedside light. The light was blinding me and I collapsed once again on to the now blood soaked duvet. I lay for a few minutes as I tried to stop the bleeding with a pillow. Eventually I was able to get up and stumble to the bathroom. I stood unsteadily in the shower and washed the blood from my hair and shoulders. There was a frantic knocking on the sliding doors as I walked back into the bedroom with a white towel around my waist.
“Come in” I said loudly.
As I spoke the throbbing became worse and I stood there with my eyes closed as the manager of the lodge came in with the night guard.
“Oh my God!” said the manager as he saw the blood-stained duvet. “Are you okay Mr Green?”
“I'm fine” I said quietly. “They hit me on the head.”
The night guard stood shaking with fear, his eyes like saucers as he looked at me apologetically.
“I'm very sorry sir,” he said, “they came with a gun and they said they would shoot me”
“I know. Don't worry about it,” I replied.
I turned to the manager.
“Prepare my bill now please. I'm leaving,” I said quietly.
“Mr Green I'm so...”
“Just get the fucking bill, will you?” I barked in annoyance. “No police, just the bill.”
Both men looked back at me with worried fearful eyes.
“Yes, sir,” said the manager as he ushered the night guard from the room.
I turned towards the dressing table to pack my bag and get my clothes. The surface was smeared with blood, saliva and mucus from the man's face. I got you good you fucker. The bleeding above my ear had stopped as I dressed and packed my bags. The laptop and the dummy hard drive were gone but I wasn't too worried about the computer. I could replace it easily and there was nothing on it of any importance. The manager returned with the bill and the card machine as I got ready to leave. Sensing my anger, he kept the conversation to a minimum and I swiped the amount quickly and made my way to my vehicle. I dumped my bags on the back seat and got into the front to start the engine. I revved the vehicle hard as I drove towards the electric gate. It opened promptly and I drove out of the lodge and took a right turn towards the city.
It was 3.00am. dark and the roads were empty as I drove. With my head still thumping I looked around and watched the rear-view mirror as I drove. They are gone Green. Long gone. I was right, there was no sign of any vehicles on the road let alone any following me. The drive to the city centre took fifteen minutes. I drove to the Crown Plaza Hotel and parked my vehicle in the underground parking lot to avoid it being seen. I retrieved the original hard drive from the spare wheel compartment and headed up to the reception. It was 3.45am. by the time I checked in to my room on the fourteenth floor and poured a whisky from the mini bar. I was tired. Tired, sore and angry. I stood near the huge bay windows of the room and stared down at the lights of the sleeping city below. The words the man had spoken were ringing in my mind.
“You are very lucky my friend. Mr Kriel was not as lucky as you.”
This confirmed that my old friend Hannes had been murdered. There was no doubt. Teresa had been right. The horizon to the East had started turning a golden yellow colour by the time I lay on the bed to rest. The acid of the drink and the pain in my head exacerbated the caustic anger I was feeling and it was a full half hour before I drifted off to a troubled sleep. In my dreams I repeatedly saw the face of the albino poacher from the Zambezi Valley, Dixon Mayuni. At around 8.00am. in the morning I accidentally turned on to my right side. The pain from my cut and swollen head woke me with a start. I lay there with my eyes closed as I gently massaged the tender area around the cut. Yes Mr Mayuni. I believe you killed my friend. I have an appointment with you.
Chapter Five: The Zambezi Valley
I OPENED MY EYES TO bright daylight streaming through the bay windows. I was feeling exhausted, but it was time to move. After a shower and shave I headed down to the reception to check out. While there I called the car hire company to instruct them to collect the Land Cruiser from the hotel car park and bill my credit card for the hire. The vehicle was known to whoever had sent the goons to my room and there was no way I would risk moving around in it again. After paying the hotel bill I ate a quick breakfast in the restaurant and had the receptionist call a taxi. It arrived promptly and I told the driver to take me to the nearest car hire company. The journey took less than five minutes and I walked into the office and ordered a new Land Cruiser. The four by four vehicle would be necessary for the journey I had in mind. By 10.00am. I had packed my bags into the new vehicle and drove out of the yard and into the busy Harare traffic. The morning was both hot and bright and I dug my sunglasses from my bag as I drove to dull the glare that stung my eyes and exacerbated the ache on the right-hand side of my head. My aim was to get out of the city as soon as possible but I needed to buy a new laptop on the way. I drove to the plush shopping centre which I had visited the previous day to buy the dummy hard drive. As a precaution I pocketed the valuable device before entering the shops. The new laptop was the exact model that had been taken by the men and I swiped my credit card to buy it and walked back to the parked vehicle. I drove to the nearest service station and bought a six pack of bottled water and washed down three pain killers with one of them. As I headed north out of the city, I watched the rear-view mirror for any sign of a following vehicle. There was nothing and I decided that I was probably being a little paranoid. Eventually I made it on to the Lomagundi Road that leads North to Lake Kariba and the Zambezi River. The traffic thinned as I left the city and passed the small domestic airport on the outskirts. The fierce sun burned through the windscreen as I drove and after a while, I flicked the switch for the air conditioning to cool the interior of the cab. The countryside was green and lush as I drove and after forty minutes, I crossed the huge linear geological feature of The Great Dyke with its expansive views of the North on the other side. It felt good to be out of the city and away from the scrutiny of whoever was responsible for the mayhem of the previous night. The farm land and bush were familiar although it had been so many years and I felt my spirits lifting as I passed the small farming towns on the way.
After another two hours of driving I passed the town of Karoi. T
his marked the end of the farming area and the beginning of the real African bush. The landscape changed dramatically and became more hilly and rugged. The winding, sun baked road continued through the remote wilderness until I reached the tiny village of Makuti. Here the road split into two with one leading to Lake Kariba and the other leading to the border village of Chirundu on the Zambezi.
I took the short drive up a winding hill to The Makuti Hotel. I remembered it from my youth and was happy to find it still operating even if its appearance was a bit dilapidated and threadbare. My body ached with fatigue as I stepped out of the vehicle and made my way up the stairs to the shaded verandah. It was hot and a slight breeze blew in from the east as I took a seat at a table and ordered a beer from a bored looking waiter. Below me a family of baboons scrabbled for seeds under a Mopani tree. The curious baby baboon had to be constantly restrained from approaching my car by its mother. The beer was cold and slipped down quickly as I savoured the magnificent views that surrounded me.
It was 2.15. by the time I made my way back down to the car and took the left turn towards Chirundu. The road wound its way through the mountains and the Land Cruiser powered past the many heavy-duty haulage trucks that were battling in low gear to negotiate the sharp corners and steep gradients. Eventually. after passing the National Parks offices at Marongora. I rounded a corner and saw the splendour of the Zambezi Valley stretched out from left to right below me. I parked the car at a view point with a sign that read 'Zambezi Escarpment' and got out to take a look. The ground on either side of the road was covered with heavy rocks and boulders and the wind that blew in from the valley was like a hair dryer. Below and to my right in the distance I saw the dirt road that leads to the Chewore concessions and the World Heritage site of Mana Pools. It was as if the entire world had literally dropped away a few hundred metres. The vast green wilderness that stretched out for hundreds of miles below me on either side shimmered in the intense afternoon heat. I knew that the temperature would rise even more as I descended into the valley. I got back into the Land Cruiser and made my way down the steep winding road to the valley floor. After I had passed the Tsetse Fly control station, I saw the first of many giant Baobab trees. The road on the valley floor was burnt to a bright grey white and undulated slightly through the dense forest. I was fully aware that the entire area was teeming with wildlife but at that time of the year the bush was thick and there was little sign of anything apart from the occasional evidence of elephant droppings on the side of the road.
Half an hour later I approached the small border town of Chirundu. There were hundreds of heavy haulage trucks parked in the thick dust on either side of the road waiting to cross the bridge into Zambia. I stopped briefly at a service station to ask directions to the fishing camps I knew were dotted down the river bank. The air was thick and humid and for the first time in many years I caught a whiff of the distinctive smell of the Potato Bush common in the Zambezi Valley. A group of drunk youths tried to offer their services as guides but eventually I managed to get the right information from the attendant. I turned the Land Cruiser around and drove back the way I had come for five hundred metres until I saw the dirt road on my left with two small signs that read 'Hippo Safaris' and 'Sandy Point’.
I followed the rough dirt road away from the chaos of the village and into the bush. As it was the rainy season the road was rutted and washed away in places, but the vehicle handled it easily and after ten minutes I caught my first glimpse of the mighty Zambezi River to my left. Its powerful steady waters were a dark green colour and stretched almost five hundred metres across to the Zambian side. In the bush to my right a family of Impala flitted away nervously from the sound of the vehicle. The rough road passed a number of private houses and camps on the banks of the river before dropping down and right through the thick bush for another kilometre to come out at Hippo Safaris. One of the gardeners of the lodge saw my vehicle approaching and came to welcome me.
“How far downstream to the Kafue River on the Zambian side?” I asked him after our greetings were done.
“Must be twelve kilometres, sir,” he replied.
“Are there any other decent camps closer?” I asked.
“There is Sandy Point, sir,” he said. “One kilometre from here if you follow this road.”
I thanked him and drove on down the rough road through a couple of river beds and around great ant hills until I saw the camp in the distance. It was set on a spur on the river bank and sheltered by huge Apple Ring Acacia Trees. There were a few fishing boats moored to a jetty nearby and the camp itself was private and remote with lush green lawns. Perfect for what you want Green. It took five minutes to negotiate the road to the camp as it crossed a flooded plain through which I had to engage the four by four but eventually the muddied vehicle pulled up behind the main buildings and I parked.
Being sure to lock and alarm the vehicle I walked into the camp across the lawns and was greeted by an elderly white lady with a pleasant chubby face who approached me from a building at the far right of the camp.
“Afternoon!” she said cheerily with a lilting voice.
“Hi there,” I replied. “Sorry for arriving out of the blue but I was hoping you might have some accommodation for me.”
“No problem at all!” she replied as she approached and shook my hand. “The camp is empty until the weekend and even then, there is only one chalet booked out. No problem at all. My name is Shirley. Welcome to Sandy Point.”
“Jason Green,” I said. “Pleased to meet you.”
“These are our four chalets,” she said indicating the thatched buildings behind me “Each of them sleeps two people and has private bathrooms, fans and mosquito nets. There's a small pool and a dining area with a view of the river if you would like our staff to prepare your meals. Are you a fisherman?”
I had to think on my feet.
“No, I'm more interested in bird watching,” I replied as I looked at the facilities.
“Oh my!” she said dismayed, “You've been injured. Your head!”
“Oh that,” I said lightly touching the wound, “yes, I was mugged in Harare. They didn't get anything so it's fine. I'll take one chalet if that's okay. By the way, do you have a safe in your office? I have some valuable items I would like to lock away safely.”
“Yes, we do. We’ll look after your stuff, don't worry,” she said reassuringly.
We stood and made small talk for a few more minutes. Afterwards I went to unload the Land Cruiser. The afternoon was roasting hot and humid and beads of sweat formed on my face and arms as I lugged my bags to my chalet. The room was light and airy with huge arched windows fitted with iron bars to keep the animals out. The windows were open and without glass to show the magnificent views of the river and allow the breeze to come in. Above the stone walls were ceiling fans mounted on the poles that held the thatched roof. Large mosquito nets hung above the two single beds. I retrieved the hard drive and walked across the green lawn in the shade to Shirley's house. Across the lawn near the river a gardener moved a hose and sprinkler that sprayed long spurts of water in a wide circle on to the lawn. The individual droplets shone like diamonds in the afternoon sun and I was overcome by a feeling of calm exhaustion and serenity as I walked.
“Knock, knock,” I said as I approached the thatched building.
“Good afternoon,” said a man from inside. Like the chalets, the house had large open walls with bars to stop the animals. On the inside I saw the figure of a tall elderly man approaching. He was at least six foot six and wore the khaki shorts and short sleeved shirt of a hunter. On his feet he wore rugged veldskoen or bush shoes. He introduced himself as Andrew. He had the wizened, weather beaten face of a man who had spent his years outdoors in the African sun. He was obviously Shirley's husband.
We spoke for a few minutes after which I handed him the hard drive. He promised to keep it safe and I made my excuses and headed back to my chalet. I found the switch for the overhead fans and they whirre
d reassuringly. Feeling overwhelmed by fatigue and the heat I dropped on to the cool surface of the nearest bed. The fan above whirled up to full speed and I was washed over by cool moving air. It was a blessed relief and within a minute I had drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep.
I awoke to find the room bathed in a surreal yellow orange light. It was as if the very air was glowing. The heat of the afternoon was relenting as the sun set across the river. ln the distance a pod of Hippos grunted and snorted loudly from the river. Nearby, branches were being snapped off. I propped myself up on my right elbow to see a family of Elephants had entered the camp and were slowly moving around picking off the curly Albida pods from the huge trees that covered the camp. They were graceful, dignified and almost silent as they moved slowly from tree to tree. One of the larger bulls was a tusker and I stared in awe at the worn creamy yellow tusks that were as thick as my thigh. I shook my head at the extreme and terrible lengths that men would go to own them. I stretched and got up to wash my face in the bathroom. On the stone wall above the mirror a fat, almost transparent Gecko moved up out of my reach. These harmless animals are welcome killers of mosquitoes and its presence reminded me to apply some repellent later.
The Jason Green series Box Set Page 45
