[2016] Rubbing Stones Read online

  She turned to see that her son hadn’t gotten up to help her. He was watching Japera and Thabani, who were whispering on the far side of the tent. He then glanced over at the one remaining raft that hadn’t been shredded. It was thirty yards away, the river waves still slapping its side.

  It was then that she realized that Zuka, too, was watching him. Waiting.

  “Michael,” she said it loud and crisp. “I need help—now.”

  Michael’s eyes jerked up and he caught Zuka’s stare. “Sorry, Mom.” He got up immediately.

  Paul rolled away from her and hoisted himself up. “I can walk,” he said. He took a few steps before he nearly collapsed. Michael caught him just before he was about to land on Jane. She jumped up, draped his arm across her shoulder, and grabbed him by the waist.

  “Just lean on me.” She nodded toward the closest tent. “You and Tommy can take this one.” She turned to Thabani. “I’d like to get my medical kit and bandage his leg properly, if you don’t mind. Then I’ll go in the other tent with my boys.”

  Thabani glanced at her and looked away. She took it as a yes.

  Paul tried to walk on his own, but the pain was too much. Michael and Jane hobbled him toward the tents. As they neared the others, she caught the look on Jake’s face. He still stood frozen where she had left him, his eyes pleading. Her usually confident boy looked terrified.

  “Jake, the kit’s in the bottom of my bag. Find it and bring it to me, will you?” He glanced at Paul’s leg and ran for the bag.

  Thabani, watching Jake from a distance, seemed on edge when he went alone into the large tent where the bags were. Jane wished she hadn’t brought attention to him. He seemed so small at that moment, so young. He still had his boyish frame. Michael, on the other hand had grown a head taller in the last year. He was as tall as the Africans but not quite as bulky.

  When Jake emerged with the bag she nodded for him to put it inside the tent they were moving toward. Thabani used the barrel of his rifle to open the tent and glance around before he allowed Jake in.

  It was then that she saw a look of concern pass over the African’s face. Jane followed Thabani’s gaze. He was scanning the top of the cliff walls of the canyon that surrounded them. She searched for any movement, any sign of life that could be aware of this scene below. All was still as the sun continued to lower itself toward the horizon. Her eye moved down the canyon, drawn inevitably to the rushing water. She stared midway across the river just before it turned sharply around the bend—the last place she’d seen Rick before he disappeared under water. There was no sign of the dark crimson that had stained the water right after Zuka’s shots. The river had returned to its fast-moving swirls topped with whitecaps, the flow pattern that was created by water rushing over unseen rocks below. No evidence of what had occurred.

  “We’ll have to eat quickly.” Zuka stood several yards in front of her but was not addressing anyone in particular. “It’ll be dark soon and I want everyone inside when the sun goes down. Once inside, no one comes out unless I say so.”

  She stared at the young man in front of her. Stared into his face. She studied the smooth black skin and dark brown eyes—so dark, in fact, that she could barely distinguish the color from the pupil. She wanted to take it all in, know it completely. This was the man who’d killed her husband—thought nothing of raising his weapon as Rick attempted to save her and her boys. He’d taken aim and fired, he’d murdered the man she loved.

  Zuka opened the lid of the pot that was still steaming from Baruti’s efforts. He lifted the spoon to his mouth but stopped when his eyes locked onto Jane’s. Paul tugged at her arm. She didn’t budge. Zuka shifted slightly in his stance. He took in a deep breath, then continued to sip from the spoon.

  Jane nodded at her boys’ plates, an unspoken encouragement for them to eat. It wasn’t clear when they’d get their next meal. But they weren’t the only ones who sat in silence and picked at the food, barely moving their flimsy camping forks. Paul and Tommy hadn’t touched their plates either, and no one was talking. She found the silence deafening.

  Michael looked up at her. She just shook her head—watch and wait, keep a low profile, see what opportunities present themselves. She attempted to quash her mounting rage, she knew full well that it served internally to ward off terror and grief but externally it could only make matters worse. Keep your wits. Think forward, what’s the next move? Be consciously aware of … She wasn’t sure of what. Of anything, everything.

  It was the silence that allowed her to hear it: a rustling noise in the trees. Maybe someone had heard the shots and was coming to help. She clanged her plates around to try to distract the others, but she needn’t have bothered. The Africans stared at the trees bordering the west jetty.

  “I’ll check it out,” Zuka said. He hesitated before he left the table, his eyes darting around at the campsite. “I’ll take the oldest boy with me. Japera, stay inside with Lorenzo and the girl.” Their two guides were still tied up inside their tent. He turned to Thabani. “Get the rest inside.”

  Jane grabbed Michael and pulled him to her. “No, he’s staying with me.”

  Zuka took a step toward her and tightened the grip on his gun.

  Michael reared around and took both of Jane’s forearms in his. She was struck by the strength of his grip.

  “Mom, I’ll be fine. You stay here with Jake, and I’ll be right back.” She heard a slight tremor in his voice. “Trust me.”

  “It’s not you—”

  “Mom.” He hadn’t released her. “I’ve got no choice.” His eyes locked onto hers. She could see the fear.

  “Don’t do anything to—”

  “I know, Mom. I’ll be right back.”

  Paul started to rise, then doubled over in pain, let out a groan, and grabbed his thigh.

  “I’d better clean and redress his wound before it gets infected,” Jane said. Michael nodded and dropped her hands to join Zuka. Jane turned to Jake.

  “I need you to stay in our tent, no matter what you hear.” She couldn’t bear to watch Michael walk into the brush with that man. She tried to steady her voice. “I’ll be right in when Paul’s cleaned up.” Jake looked up at her, his eyes hollow. “I’ll be quick, promise.” She waited until he nodded. “Tommy, grab a couple of water bottles and come with us.”

  When they were inside, Paul let go of her support and hopped on one leg over to his cot. He’d kept his injured leg as stiff as possible, but now that he was required to navigate this small room, movement was necessary. His breathing was strained and his teeth clenched against the pain by the time he reached the cot to sit. Jane lifted his leg slowly. He let out a soft low moan. When he finally lay flat, she turned away and busied herself with the medical kit. He needed time to regain his dignity.

  Once his breathing returned to a regular rhythm, Jane ripped Paul’s pant leg, just above the wound. With the small scissors from the kit, she cut the removed piece of cloth into a three-inch-wide strip on the diagonal of the fabric in order to form one long, sturdy bandage. Tommy stood motionless in the corner of the tent.

  “I need a helper, Tommy.”

  He moved toward her—but only two steps—then stopped. She pulled the second cot closer to where Paul lay and patted it for Tommy to sit next to her. He didn’t look directly at his father’s leg. Jane gave him the first-aid bag.

  “I need you to hand me things while I clean up your dad’s leg. You see,” she whispered with a wink at Tommy, “that guy out there thinks he’s really hurt your dad, but we know better. It’s important that we let them think your dad is bad off. You can even act all worried. That would help. It’s our secret that this is no big deal, okay?”

  Tommy snuck a peek over her shoulder at the wound.

  “Can you check in the bag for a cotton pad to clean up this blood? We need to—”

  “Don’t touch my blood.” Paul jerked his leg away from her. He grimaced and then fell silent.

  Jane’s mind was racing. She
looked down at his wound, then back at him.

  “Tommy,” she said, “could you look around the tent to see if there’s an extra blanket somewhere? Maybe over in that far corner under the bags? Dig around, I’m sure you’ll find something.”

  She glared at Paul, who was offering no explanation for his sudden outburst. When Tommy was out of earshot, she whispered, “Look, you and I haven’t exactly gotten along swimmingly, that’s no secret, but you need this wound cleaned and if you have some blood-borne disease it’s time to fess up. You’ve got about fifteen seconds before your son returns, so start talking.”

  He sat staring at the roof of the tent.

  “I don’t have a lot of patience, Paul. My husband’s been killed, my youngest boy is frightened to death in a tent all alone, and my teenager is out wandering the forest with an armed killer.” She tried not to feel the impact of her own words. She focused on her irritation with Paul.

  He exhaled a heavy sigh. “Hep C.”

  Jane studied his face. His shame was worse than his disease.

  “Tommy,” she said loudly, “did you find that blanket yet?”

  “Is this good enough?” He held up a light thermal throw that must have been provided for sitting out in the evenings.

  “Perfect, now put it gently over your father’s good leg so he doesn’t get chilled while we work.” She glanced over the first-aid supplies as Tommy placed the blanket.

  “Now, Tommy.” She turned and faced him. “Any time you work with someone who’s been bleeding, you have to wear gloves. It’s called Universal Precautions. No matter who it is. Got it?”

  He nodded.

  “So we’re going to practice that here. There should be a couple of surgical gloves in the kit. Get them out so we can get started.”

  They had just finished securing the final exterior bandage when she heard muffled voices outside. Jane stood up and put her right index finger to her lips. Tommy immediately stopped chattering. She inched toward the opening in the door, tried to recognize the voices, the words.

  “It was nothing,” Zuka said, “just a croc. But I think we should move out tonight.”

  “Tonight? But…”

  Jane couldn’t hear the rest. They must have moved further away from her.

  “Mind if I go and get my mom? Take her over to our tent?” Michael’s tone was obsequious.

  Jane let out the deep breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. Her shoulders relaxed.

  “I’ll get her,” Zuka said. “You and your brother start breaking down camp. And move fast. Take only what you can carry on your backs. Toss everything else, including the tents, behind those trees and out of view from the river.”

  Jane ducked back behind the mosquito net opening. She grabbed her medical bag and was just about to close it up when she stopped. The glistening steel of the scalpel handle caught her eye. She quickly dug around and found the small flat cardboard squares that held the blades. She slipped the handle and blades into her pants pocket, then closed up the kit. Just in time—the door of the tent burst open.

  “Get out here.” Zuka looked around the tent, then held the door for her to exit. He grabbed the medical bag out of her hand. “I’ll keep this.”

  CHAPTER 13

  “That was stupid.” Jake lay on the far bed and stared at the ceiling. He looked exhausted but seemed wide awake.

  Michael moved a dresser frame out from the wall, the drawers and hardware had already been removed. He moved his foot along the dirt floor searching for anything loose. “This place has been totally cleaned out.” He looked under Jake’s bed.

  “I can’t believe we left the beach because of a crocodile,” Jake said. “There’re much worse animals in that jungle.”

  Jane glanced over at her youngest—maybe contempt was better than fear.

  “Especially after dark.” He shook his head.

  They’d walked all night, and Jane was spent by the time they reached the deserted resort. It had been nearly impossible to see, the path lit only by the occasional moonlight that worked its way through the dense canopy. Paul had tried to do most of the hike without leaning on her, but he had groaned frequently, twisting and turning his ankle on the uneven terrain. Their slow pace put Jane and Paul behind the others, yet they still had to travel faster than Paul should have been moving. Zuka had taken up the rear, and they didn’t like him getting too close, so had to keep pushing themselves. By the time they reached the huts, Paul’s left thigh was red and swollen, and his wound was oozing a thick yellow substance Jane knew was a precursor to pus.

  Tommy had already collapsed on his cot and appeared to be out for hours. Jane cleaned and redressed Paul’s wound again, then left so he could get some rest with his leg elevated. She’d told the boys to stay up and wait in their hut. She needed their help for her next move.

  “It wasn’t about the crocodile.” Michael stuck his head into the adjoining bathroom and looked around. “Besides, I don’t think they’re real concerned about our safety.”

  Jane looked out the front window. She scanned the open picnic area all the huts faced—tried to imagine the line of sight in every direction. The guest huts formed a semicircle around the large main stone structure that still supported its colorful hand-painted sign for the Zambezi Safari Lodge. With its grand entrance and massive open-beam construction, this building must have once served as the dining hall and gathering place when this was an active jungle resort for tourists. She could see remnants of its previously luxurious incarnation—not that it would ever have been glamorous in a western way, but its thatched roofs and high ceilings still gave the appearance of grandeur. The architecture appeared to have been designed to blend with the surrounding African vegetation when well kept. Now that same vegetation was about to take it over.

  On the other side of the kitchen’s loading dock, facing away from the guest huts, stood rudimentary accommodations with canvas sides. These must have served as the workers’ quarters—near the kitchen and much less attractive than the guest huts that dotted the grounds. Jane studied them before she focused back on the barbecue area where Japera sat on one of the outdoor tables, rifle at his side.

  Jake leaned on one elbow and faced his brother. “But Zuka said you guys found a crocodile.”

  “Oh, we found a croc, all right. But it was already dead, just washed up on shore.” He glanced over at Jane. “Mom, what’s the plan?”

  She took in a deep breath. “I need your help, both of you.”

  Jake sat up and bit his upper lip.

  “I need to get to Lorenzo. They have him tied up in the back of the workers’ hut. Japera’s keeping guard while the other two get some sleep.” She paced a moment, then sat down on the bed and leaned forward toward Michael. “I need you to go out there. Talk with him, keep him busy, make sure he faces away while I go in through the back.”

  Michael combed his fingers through his hair and looked away from her.

  “He has the first watch. I helped him build the fire and make some coffee. It gave me a chance to casually talk with the guy. He’s kind of quiet, not as jumpy as the others, not as angry.” She looked down at her hands in her lap. “But Michael, if you don’t think…”

  “It’s safe?” He came out with a choked laughed. “Nothing here is safe, Mom.” He peered out the window for several minutes before he spoke. “It’s okay, I can do it.”

  She watched him study the angles, judge the distances. She waited for his shoulders to relax before she spoke again. “I’ll have to sneak behind those huts on the far left and the lodge. There’s at least four spots where he could see me, and the gap between that last hut and the lodge is huge.”

  “I’ll look for that. I’ll make sure he doesn’t see you.”

  Jake got up from his cot. “But Mom, if they catch you—”

  “Jake, you need to stay in here…” She walked over to her youngest.

  “What do I—”

  “…and wait. If Michael sees anything go wrong, if he ne
eds me to know there’s a problem, he’ll call out to you. Loudly, Michael, not obvious, but loud enough for me to hear you. Call for Jake to join you, say you want to show him something, the stars, the moon, whatever. That’ll be our signal.”

  Michael stood silent and stared out the window.

  “Michael, I need you to be loud enough—”

  “Don’t worry, Mom.” His eyes were watery as he turned away from her. “You’ll hear me.”

  The bathroom window was covered with a fine mesh screen. The warm African breeze kept the room a constant temperature, and permanent windows wouldn’t have been necessary at this resort even in its prime. Jane popped the screen out and lowered herself to the ground behind their room. It was only a short distance to the area behind the workers’ quarters, but it took her over ten minutes to reach Lorenzo’s hut. The twigs and branches in her path required her to move with the utmost care—the moonlight was bright enough to make her passage behind buildings highly visible were Japera to look in her direction. But Michael’s conversation was engrossing enough to keep Japera’s attention. When he chose, Michael could be quite the conversationalist.

  She knelt down on the ground below the canvas wall and took out her scalpel. She popped the blade in place, then heard movement inside the hut. Her head jerked up—silence. She could feel her heart pounding, took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She steadied her hand as she approached the bottom of the canvas. Suddenly she heard it again. This time it was unmistakable. She listened for words—there were none. But there was definitely movement, maybe a chair scraping on the floor, someone walking, she couldn’t tell. She waited and listened. Should she abort the plan? If someone had entered the front of the hut Michael would have seen it, he would have warned her, unless he couldn’t. But the noise wasn’t enough to be a scuffle with Michael. It seemed to come from inside the hut.