Part 49 (1/2)
His mouth felt chalky dry from the adrenalin hangover.
Voter!” He went quickly to the reserve tank under the seat, unscrewed the cap and checked the level.
”At least twenty, five lit res sop There was an aluminium canteen hanging beside the AK 47 in the rack, left by one of the grave, diggers Craig topped it up from the tank, and then took it to Timon.
Timon drank gratefully, gulping and choking in his haste to swallow. Then he lay back panting. Craig pa.s.sed the canteen to Sally-Anne and then drank himself. Timon seemed a little easier, and Craig checked the dressings.
The bleeding was staunched for the moment.
”The first rule of desert survival, Craig reminded him self, ”stay with the vehicle.” But it didn't apply here. The vehicle would draw the pursuit likea beacon. Timon had mentioned spotter aircraft-On this open plain they would see the Land-Rover from thirty miles. Then there was the second patrol coming down from the Plumtree border-post. They would be here in a few hours.
They couldn't stay. They had to go on. He looked down at Timon, and understanding flashed between them.
”You'll have to leave me,” Timon whispered.
Craig could not hold his eyes, or reply. Instead he climbed on to the roof.a.gain and looked back.
Their tracks showed very clearly on the soft earth, filled with shadows by the lowering angle of the sun. He followed them with the eye towards the hazy horizon, and then started with alarm.
Something moved on the very edge of his vision. For long seconds he hop el it was a trick of light. Then it swelled up again, ll0e a wriggling caterpillar, floated free of earth on a lake of mirage, changed shape once more, anch.o.r.ed itself to earth again and became a line of armed men, running in Indian file, coming in on their tracks. The men of the Third Brigade had not abandoned the chase.
They were coming on foot, trotting steadily across the plain. Craig had worked with crack black troops before, he knew that they could keep up that pace for a day and a night.
He jumped down and found Timon's binoculars in the cubby beside the driver's seat.
”There is a foot patrol following us,” he told them.
”How many?”Timon asked.
On the roof he focused the binoculars. ”Eight of them they took casualties when the truck overturned.” He looked back at the sun. It was reddening and losing heat, sinking into the ground haze. Two hours to sunset, Its he guessed.
”If you move me into a good place, I'll give you delaying fire,” Timon told him. And as Craig hesitated, ”Don't waste time arguing, Mr. Mellow.”
Sally' Anne refill the canteen,” Craig ordered. ”Take the chocolate and high-Protein slabs from the emergency rations. Take the map and the compa.s.s and these binoculars.” re around the stranded He was surveying the fields of ri m that flat terrain.
vehicle. No advantage to be wrung fro The only strong point was the Land' Rover itself. He knocked the drain plug out of the bottom of the gasoline tank and let the remaining fuel run into the sandy soil, to prevent a lucky shot torching the vehicle and Timon with een around the back it. Swiftly he built a rudimentary scr wheels, placing the spare wheels and the steel toolbox to cover Timon's flanks when they started to enfilade him.
He helped Timon out of the back seat and laid him belly down behind the rear wheels. The bleeding started 4 again, soaking the dressing, and Timon was grey as ash and sweating in bright little bubbles across his upper lip. Craig placed one of the AK 47S in his hands and arranged a seat cus.h.i.+on as an aiming rest in front of him. The box of spare magazines he set at Timon's right hand, five hundred rounds.
”I'll last until dark,” Timon promised in a croak. ”But leave me one grenade.” They all knew what that was for. Timon did not want to be taken alive. At the very end he would hold the grenade to his own chest and blow it away.
Craig took the remaining five grenades and packed them into one of the rucksacks. He placed the British Airways bag that contained his papers and the book ma.n.u.script on top of them. From the toolbox he took a roll of light gauze wire and a pair of side cutters; from the ammunition box, six spare magazines for the AK 47. He divided the contents of the first-aid box, leaving two field dressings, a blister pack of pain-killers and a disposable syringe of morphine for Timon. The rest he tipped into his rucksack.
He glanced quickly around the interior of the Land Rover. Was there anything else he might need? A rolled plastic ground sheet in camouflage design lay on the door boards He stuffed that into the bag, and hefted it. That was all he could afford to carry. He looked across at Sally Anne She had the canteen slung on one shoulder, and the second rucksack op the other. She had rolled the portfolio of photographs and crammed them into the rucksack. She was very pale and the lump on her forehead seemed to have swelled even larger.
”Right?” Craig asked.
”Okay.” He squatted beside Tiffton. ”Goodbye, Captain,”he said.
”Goodbye, Mr. Mellow.” Craig took his hand and looked into his eyes. He saw no fear there, and he wondered again at the equanimity with which the African can accept death. He had seen it often.