Part 36 (1/2)

He shrugged off Kitu's aid, forgetting entirely about the one-armed man in Chui's pit, and limped in a circle, confused and bewildered. He rested his pistol and hands on his knees as he bent forward in pain.

”Are you . . . are you all right?” Kitu's words sounded weak to his own ears.

”I need medicine.” His eyes focused on his hut again. Kitu knew that he kept his medical supplies in there. Drugs that could make you sleep or wake up, or that could make you no longer feel pain.

One step at a time, Guy started back in that direction.

The notebooks blazed like a hearth fire as Sam dumped the last rolled sheet of EEG recordings on top. The white paper twisted and blackened in seconds, falling into ash on the floor. When she pulled her eyes away from the fire, her heart froze in her chest. Guy stood in the doorway, eyes wide and jaw dropped. His pistol hung by his side, and Kitu lingered right behind him.

Guy lifted his gun and pointed it at her. She froze.

”What have you done?” he cried. ”You and Alfred planned this? This was all a trap to destroy my work, to destroy everything!”

He stepped forward and grabbed her hair. He yanked roughly, throwing her to the floor. She came down hard on her knees, catching herself before her face struck the planks.

”And I . . .” He trailed, clenching his free fist. ”You tricked me. You lying wh.o.r.e!”

She fell on her side and held her arms over her face.

”I'm going to make you pay for this,” Guy threatened.

He strode over to the burning pile, unmindful of the flames licking the wall of his house. ”All those years . . . they're gone!” He balled his hand into a fist and beat his shoulder with it. ”All because of . . .”

Guy looked up as if remembering something, then checked his pistol to make sure it was still loaded. He gave Kitu an order. As he headed for the doorway, he turned and glanced back at Sam. ”Kitu will kill you if you so much as move, Samantha. I won't protect you again.”

He disappeared through the open doorway.

Sam and Kitu were left looking at each other. Kitu seemed shaken and unsure, but she was beyond fear. She studied the spear in the Mbuti's hands and tried to figure a way around it.

Temba shook; he could kill Ndola in the process of rescuing Sam. As he stood there, with Ndola helpless in his arms, he realized that he could never do such a thing. Temba was not a killer.

He could not let the others know that. As he approached the gathering of Mbuti men, he held the knife firmly to Ndola's neck and announced in a bold voice: ”Give Sam to me.”

The others turned in surprise, Polomo in the middle of the group. Even Bokenga stood amongst them.

”If you do not give her to me, I will kill Ndola,” Temba declared.

Finally, it was Bokenga who spoke. The old Mbuti's voice lingered softly. ”We don't have her, Temba. She's in Guy's house now.” Bokenga pointed across the clearing at a particular building. Temba could barely make it out in the darkness.

”Let Ndola go, and we won't stand in your way,” the old man promised.

Temba believed Bokenga, but he looked to Polomo for rea.s.surance. Polomo's eyes fell to the ground, and he nodded slowly.

Temba moved forward, still cradling Ndola, who put up no resistance. Slowly, the gathering parted, making way for him. Every set of eyes watched him. When no more Mbuti stood in his way, he pushed Ndola away from him.

The Mbuti hunter collapsed to the mud, where he remained with his eyes on Temba.

Temba strode away, not checking to see if the others followed him. If one threw a spear now, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. He ignored that fear until he walked up the porch and stepped inside.

”Temba!” Sam cried, her eyes lighting up. The blonde American nearly leapt to her feet, unmindful of the armed Mbuti that stood between them.

Kitu turned to see Temba's hateful gaze upon him. But Temba's hate melted away when he saw the way Kitu's visage softened. The tip of his spear lowered to the floor and Kitu stepped out of the way.

Sam ran across the room and wrapped Temba in a hug. ”I can't believe you're okay. And you're here! Do you know what happened to everyone else? Do you know where Brandon is?”

After a moment, he pushed her away gently, shaking his head. ”I don't know. I've been in the forest by myself. I came back here to get you.”

”You need to leave quickly, Temba,” Kitu insisted in his own tongue. ”He'll be back soon. And he has a gun. I can't protect you from him.”

Temba nodded. What had changed all of their minds so quickly? He turned back to Sam and spoke in English. ”Come with me. We have to go.”

When they stepped outside, the sky seemed a little brighter, as if dawn had begun.

She tugged on his arm. ”Wait, Temba. What about Alfred?”

”We don't have time,” he told her. ”That man has a gun and he's coming back. I can't fight a gun with a spear.” He pulled her along, but she resisted, grabbing tight to his wrist and not letting him leave.

”No, Temba. Not without Alfred. We need to save Alfred.”

Mud slid past him and plopped into the rancid water at his feet. The foul scent of rotten dung wafted up all around him, choking the air from his lungs. Alfred couldn't believe an animal had lived down here. He struggled with his one hand to climb, but the mud was too soft to get any footing and every time he started up, he slid back down.

Finally he maneuvered to a side of the pit that was less steep than the others and, as he gripped the slope with one hand, he propped himself on the stub of his opposite elbow and walked up with his feet. He made slow progress and twice he thought for sure he'd fall, but eventually he pulled himself to the top and rolled onto firm ground. He lay on his back for a moment, collecting his breath.

Guy's shadow fell over him.

Alfred tensed, a pistol barrel pointed right at him. Although Guy didn't hesitate, the whole world slowed down for Alfred. He saw sheer rage in the man, and he knew that Sam had been successful in her attempt at sabotage. Had she managed to escape? Or had Guy killed her? Even now, her corpse could be skewered on an Mbuti spear.

And then, moments before Guy pulled the trigger, Temba and Sam emerged from the corner of a distant building. Both looked alive and well, racing as if to his rescue. They were too far off. They could never reach him in time. But at least they would have a chance to escape.

Alfred closed his eyes, blackness enveloping him.

He heard the deafening bang of a gunshot.

”No, Alfred!” Sam screamed.

Temba didn't sprint. He knew he would never make it. Guy would have plenty of time to turn his gun on them. Instead, Temba took a single hop forward.

His fingers gripped the shaft of Kuntolo's spear and yanked it off his back. He tossed it into the air so it landed in his palm, horizontal above his shoulder. And as his foot hit the mud, his body abruptly ceasing its forward momentum, his arm swung forward, his wrist gliding. His fingers released.

The sharpened tip cut the air, the shaft wobbling ever so slightly on the wind. At such a distance it flew in an arc, soaring with a hollow whoosh. When it came down again, it entered just above Guy's left shoulder blade and sunk deep into his flesh. His body lurched from the blow and his finger squeezed the trigger reflexively.

The weapon discharged harmlessly in the mud.

Guy's hand came up, searching for the object that struck his shoulder. He felt blindly as his legs buckled and, as he collapsed to his knees, his fingers closed around the shaft for a moment. Then they slid away, and his body fell heavily to the ground.

Sam heard the sickening thump of the spear entering Guy, and, before his body hit the ground, she bolted toward Alfred. She came to a stop over Guy's hunched form. His fingers clenched and released, squeezing nothing as his life drained from him. His last breaths came in wet gurgles as blood filled his lungs.