CHAPTER 34
Sunday June 29th, 2012
Mpumalanga, South Africa
When Jaco Bouwer reaches the gate of Jabula Private Reserve he merely has to announce his name through the open window of his vehicle for the security guard to lift the boom and let him through.
"They said I must tell you the rhinos are on the Ndlovu Loop, Sir. You must turn left at the second road."
'They' being the police, Jaco presumes. Or maybe the owners.
Still, his senses are on high alert as he drives – looking for the unexpected – any signs of human activity – anything that might indicate this is a trap. The connection during the call between him and Owen earlier had been atrocious but he'd caught the journalist's sense of urgency. 'Do not go.'
He'd also caught Owen's realization that he was going to go anyway, and his resulting reassurance, emerging through other, unintelligible noise. "We're on our way…"
That, together with his loaded pistol on the seat next to him, provides him with some kind of a sense of security.
One and a half kilometers along the Ndlovu Loop road, as he rounds a bend, he finds horror to match the photos that had been sent to his phone.
Ominous shadows metamorphose, in the glare of his vehicle-mounted spotlight, into the harrowing outlines of three white rhinos crumpled on the ground.
He pulls off the road.
He's completely alone. The police he had been told would be there are not. No one else is either.
It's eerily silent. Even the crickets are quiet.
Jaco Bouwer's skin crawls.
But he doesn't leave.
He can't.
On the other side of the road from him one of the rhinos has gone down with its head facing towards where his vehicle is parked. Even without the spotlight trained directly on it he can see the gruesome spectacle that is the remains of the animal's face. The chainsaw that the monsters had used to carve away as much of both horns as they could both had bitten deep into the tissues. The edges of the wound are raw - skin curls away from the devastation underneath in pink tatters. Splinters of bone surround the yawning cavities of the animal's exposed sinuses. Blood congeals around the wound and pools on the ground where it has poured out through the rhino's nostrils.
And from the animal's withers protrudes a dart – the cheerful bright pink fluff of its flight a sick joke amidst the surrounding carnage.
Jaco reaches over to open the glove compartment and pull out his head-mounted flashlight. He dons it and switches the lamp on. He grabs his gun too, tucking it into his waistband as he emerges from his vehicle.
He crosses over the road. The rhino is dead. Either from the effects of the drug or blood-loss. Or both.
A second animal is lying on the road about thirty meters ahead of him.
He makes his way to it, focused on his surroundings. In the distance he hears what could be the sound of a vehicle approaching. Trouble? Back-up?
Owen's words come back to him. Reassurance. "We're on our way."
Nonetheless he increases his speed. Reaches the second animal. Realizes there's nothing he'll be able to do there either.
The third rhino is a little further off the road, about fifty meters to the left of where he'd parked his vehicle. He makes for it in a straight line, crossing the fairly open area in which the bodies lie. The rhino is lying near the edge of the clearing – beyond it is bush – not dense, but too dense to see through even with a half-moon in the sky.
And when Jaco reaches it he is suddenly, ridiculously elated.
The third rhino is still alive. Mutilated, yes, but alive.
Jaco explodes into action. He runs across the open veld back to his vehicle to collect his drug box. Returns to the rhino. Gets an intravenous catheter into its ear vein and administers a dose of Butorphenol – a respiratory stimulant. The next step will be to get oxygen into the animal's lungs. He needs to collect the oxygen cylinder from his vehicle.
Subconsciously, as he's been working, he's noticed the sound of the approaching vehicle getting louder.
Now, as he turns back towards his own vehicle to fetch the cylinder it becomes a conscious realization. As does the recognition of the sound behind him as that of the motor of a helicopter starting up.
As does the awareness that someone is behind him.
He reaches for his gun, already raising it as he turns, yelling out "Stop. I will shoot."
The man now in front of him evidently believes him, because he halts, about five or six meters in front of Jaco. His hands are behind him.
Jaco feels his eyes widen. Recognition.
"Julian?" he says to the man whom he'd hired to look into his wife's death. "Wat maak jy hier?"*
The private detective stands frozen to the spot – his face unreadable. Friend? Foe? Jaco can't tell.
And then two things happen. Behind Julian Willemse the great black shape of a helicopter begins to rise from the bush.
And behind Jaco Bouwer the vehicle he has heard rapidly approaching rounds the corner. He can hear it skid to a halt. Hear the distinctive sound of car doors opening.
But it's the sound of Laura Pritchard shouting his name that causes him to look around.
And that's when everything goes black.
As Sindi pushes the vehicle around the bend, the spotlight Jonathan is manning picks out a sturdy four-door pickup truck parked next to the road. Jaco's. Further scanning reveals, about thirty meters to the left of the truck, the fallen form of a rhino.
But it is the sight of the two figures standing frozen between the animal and the vehicle that spurs Jonathan Stone into action. His girlfriend is already bringing the Land Rover around, spinning it to a halt in the road so that it ends up perpendicular to the other vehicle – its two fixed roof-mounted spots illuminating the unfolding drama over the hood of Jaco's white pickup.
Jonathan doesn't wait for the vehicle to stop. He pulls the spotlight back inside through the open window and hurls it down into the foot well. Then he reaches for the door handle with his left hand, thrusting it open. With the other hand he pulls his gun from the holster on his hip.
Before Sindi has completely stopped Jonathan is out of the vehicle, beside the pickup, weapon at the ready - aimed over the hood. He has not failed to notice the black chopper lifting off beyond the two men.
He is vaguely aware that Annie Walker, behind him, has also exited the vehicle. It seems she too has seen the gun barrel protruding from the open door of the helicopter. And she too has recognized one of the men in the tableau in front of them. The one at whom the gun barrel is aimed.
It is Annie Walker who shouts out a warning.
A shout that distracts Jaco Bouwer momentarily.
The man Jaco has been holding at bay with his weapon does not hesitate. He charges at Jaco, knocking him heavily to the ground. Jaco's weapon flies out of his hand. The vet lies absolutely still.
The other man stands over the prone man, arm raised, something in his hand, looking ready to plunge it into Jaco Bouwer's chest.
Knife, thinks Jonathan.
Without hesitation he pulls the trigger of the weapon already trained on the upright figure.
He does not miss. The man staggers backwards. He drops the object from his hand and clutches at his shoulder. Turning, he begins to run awkwardly towards the helicopter.
"Jonathan! Cover me!" An urgent cry. Annie Walker has started running. Running towards Jaco Bouwer.
Ignoring Auggie's cry of "Annie! Wait!"
Jonathan opens fire on the helicopter. As does Sindi from the other side of their vehicle. A brief glance shows that she is crouched behind her door – firing through the open window.
The fleeing man has reached the chopper. It drops slightly and hovers low to the ground. Hands pull him on board. The aircraft is rising rapidly, beginning to swing away from the scene. Jonathan lets off another round in its direction.
Annie has covered half the distance to Jaco Bouwer.
There is a pop.
Annie cries out and stops, pulling something from her upper right arm with her left hand.
Jonathan hears Sindi gasp.
From somewhere behind him he hears Auggie call out, panicked, "What the hell's going on? What's happening to Annie?"
Sindi's shocked reply: "She's hit."
The helicopter completes its turn and swings away. Annie staggers forward a few paces.
Then she crumples.
"Oh, God, Auggie," Sindi's amendment. "She's down." Distressed. Urgent. "Annie's down."
Jaco Bouwer glances towards her at the sound of his name. It's the briefest of glances, but enough to give an advantage to the man who'd been in front of him. An opportunity the man seizes. Annie watches him feint to his left, out of Jaco's line of fire, and then charge down on the vet. She sees the vicious backhand blow of the man's forearm against the side of Jaco's head. She watches Jaco stagger sideways, fall, and lie there motionless. She sees Jaco's opponent recover. Watches him raise his arm – ready to stab Jaco with whatever is in his hand.
And then she hears the report of Jonathan's gun. Sees Jaco's attacker stagger, turn, and begin running back towards the hovering helicopter – arm clutching his shoulder.
It all happens so incredibly quickly.
But when she looks up at the chopper and sees the rifle barrel trained on Jaco's prone form, time suddenly slows down.
She begins to sprint, feeling as if she's running in slow motion, yelling to Jonathan to provide cover for her. She keeps low – hearing the shots being fired from behind her.
All she wants to do is get to Jaco. Drag him back a few meters to the downed rhino. To safety. To a shield.
It feels like it's taken her minutes to reach the halfway point. Somewhere in the periphery of her mind, outside of her point of focus, she is aware of a popping sound. Familiar. But she can't quite place it.
And then something thumps into her right biceps, startling her. She looks at her arm. Embedded in the muscle is a dart just like those she's seen in Namibia. Just like the one protruding from the side of the downed rhino ahead of her.
Dazed, she stops. Instinctively reaches across to pull it out.
Dimly she is aware of the sound of the helicopter moving away. Time is slowing.
Her arm begins to burn. She rubs it.
The world seems to have come to a standstill.
Her face is going oddly numb - her lips are tingling.
She feels so detached from everything, as if the world is disappearing. Her legs weaken. They give out underneath her. She floats slowly down to the ground.
She lies there. Better. She's so, so tired.
She closes her eyes. Everything goes quiet. Somewhere Auggie is calling her. She tries to answer but she doesn't seem to be able to find the breath.
Strange, she thinks.
"Less than one hundred meters," Auggie says, as the coordinates of Jaco's vehicle and the coordinates of the Land Rover converge.
The vehicle swings around a bend to the right.
"Here." It's Jonathan. There's the tiniest of pauses, then "Shit." The emphatic exclamation is full of shocked disbelief.
The vehicle breaks. Skids. Swings to the left. The rear slides to the right throwing Auggie almost onto Annie.
Or where she should have been.
She's not. Her car door is opening and she is on her way out of the vehicle. She screams out Jaco's name. Auggie uses his momentum to make a grab for her. To try restrain her.
"Annie. Wait." But she's gone.
The distinctive thump and whine of a helicopter motor fills the air. It's very close. Just ahead of them.
He hears Annie shout to Jonathan. Gunfire sounds from his left and right – Jonathan and Sindi both are covering her.
He wants with everything in him to open his door and get out, but he has no way of fathoming what on earth is going on.
So he does the best thing for all of them and stays down.
Until he hears the pop. That distinct pop of a gas-propelled tranquilizer gun. That pop that became so familiar to him in those few days with Jaco at Otjindawa.
That pop, now followed by Annie's cry.
And Sindi's gasp.
Suddenly Auggie Anderson couldn't give a shit about safety. He is upright and opening the door within seconds. Grabbing for his cane as he exits the vehicle. Shaking it out even before his feet hit the ground.
"What the hell's going on?" He's yelling. Angry. Goddamned frustrated. Hating the not knowing. "What's happening to Annie?" And scared. So, so scared.
"She's hit."
He moves. Closes the door behind him. Turns in Sindi's direction. Heart thumping. Sheer panic driving him forward.
And then Sindi tells him she's down.
Adrenaline kicks in properly. And it's exactly what he needs. His head clears. His brain coolly begins analyzing the situation. Strategizing for him.
Flight, fight or freeze.
Auggie Anderson is wired to fight.
To fight with his head. Cool under fire.
And that's what he does now.
"Sindi," he says, urgently, but in control, "I need you take me to her. Quickly."
Sindisiwe Ncube doesn't bother with niceties. She pulls him by the arm, dragging him at a run over the uneven ground. It's not elegant. Not dignified. Auggie honestly doesn't give a damn.
Sindi stops abruptly. Pulls him down. Unceremoniously grabs his hand and places it on Annie. On her shoulder.
He moves quickly, assessing her position. Annie is lying on her side facing him, curled into a semi-foetal position. "Help me get her onto her back," Auggie instructs Sindi. She complies.
Jonathan has come up behind them. "Is she OK?" It's an inane question. But what else does one ask? "Is she dead?"
Auggie doesn't answer. He moves his hand up to her neck – looking for a pulse. Finds one. Thank God. Moves the same hand up to her cheek. "Annie," he says. "Annie, can you hear me?"
There is no reply.
He places his other hand on her chest.
There is a deep rise and fall. Something like a sigh escapes from her.
And she doesn't breathe again.
His blood is like ice. His mind is as clear as crystal.
"Jonathan," he says, "I need you to go to Jaco's vehicle. Look in the glove compartment. Tell me what you find. Sindi, go and check on Jaco."
He bends down over Annie. He tilts her head back. Pinches her nose closed with his left hand. Seals his mouth over hers and breathes into her. His right hand can feel the rise of her chest. And its fall.
Sindi calls out. "Jaco's OK. He's busy coming around."
A car door opens. There's a click. Scratching and rustling. "Syringes." Jonathan shouts. "Needles. Bottle of…" There's a brief pause. "…Naltrexone?"
"That's it," Auggie calls back. "Bring me all of it. Run!" Jaco, I owe you a debt I am never going to be able to repay.
He breathes for Annie again.
Jonathan arrives. Auggie holds out a hand. Packaging rips. A syringe and needle are placed in his palm. He orients them. Fits the needle onto the syringe.
Jonathan brushes his hand with the glass bottle of antidote. Auggie grabs it – gestures to Annie. "Take over the breathing."
Jonathan moves over to Annie's other side.
Auggie has the needle uncapped and in position. He pushes it through the rubber seal on the bottle. Turns the bottle upside down and begins to pull back the plunger. In front of him he can hear Jonathan breathing into Annie's mouth.
The plunger is all the way back. He pulls the needle out. Holds up the syringe.
"Jonathan," he asks, "This look OK?"
"Yeah."
Auggie tracks rapidly down Annie's body. Looking for her thigh.
A part of him seems to be standing aside, watching.
He draws a breath.
Kneeling over her, he plunges the needle deep into her muscle. Through her jeans. Depresses the plunger. Measured. Steady.
Like his pulse.
He places his left hand on Annie's chest.
And he waits. Hopes. The kind of hope that comes very close to prayer.
Ten seconds later, Annie gasps.
Auggie Anderson slumps. His center turns to water. He feels a hand on his shoulder. Jonathan's.
And tears come.
*"Wat maak jy hier?" = What are you doing here?