

### DECEMBER DEAD

### By

### Wayne Roux

DECEMBER DEAD

Published by Wayne Roux at Smashwords

Copyright 2013 Wayne Roux

**Special Acknowledgements** : Editing and Proofreading by M.D. Meyer and Joni Proper. Fictional character inspiration from @ThisBikerBoy. Storyline development and assistance from Joni Proper and Tessa Woollgar.
Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for purchasing and downloading this ebook. This ebook remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author.

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"Fear not that life shall come to an end, but rather fear that it shall never have a beginning."

John Henry Cardinal Newman

This book is dedicated to those who never made it: My brothers: Stanley Bellfield and Adrian Roux - born and raised in East London and King William's Town, respectively, taken suddenly at young ages, and also to my greatest childhood friends: Wayne Bloem, who passed away from a fall in the mountains in Hogsback, and Bruce Corby, an up and coming local Eastern Cape and South African surfer and schoolmate who died from a shark attack at Nahoon Beach many years ago. All brothers, taken too soon...

### Chapter 1

The heat was almost unbearable. It wrapped itself like a warm wet blanket around the small group as they made their way through the heavy undergrowth, swatting away the pesky mosquitoes' that were insistent on sucking them dry at every opportunity, and avoiding the backlash of released branches and leaves from the tour guides that led the way. The canopy of the trees above them blocked out most of the sunlight, so the heat that enveloped them seemed to be coming from the ground upwards, a humidity that was almost tangible, laced with the rotting smell of decomposing plants that crunched under their feet as they walked. The main tour guide, a large dark-skinned man wearing a dirty white vest and knee-length khaki shorts, was doing his best to carve a pathway through the jungle ahead of him with a very large machete, skillfully slicing away the intrusive liana's, a type of climbing vine, and the oversized heliciana leaves which wrapped around the bright orange flowers of the plant.

The rainforests of the Amazon seemed to be a living, breathing entity on its own, as the sounds of hundreds of insect species merged with the bonking sound of the occasional monkey frog, topped off with the strange and unique roar of the red howler monkeys in the distance. It was early December, a time of the year when this south eastern section of Peru experienced heavy downpours, interlaced with the incredible humidity that seemed amplified by the canopied roof of the forest.

"How far do we still have to go?" a panting, overweight British man in the group gasped from near the rear of the now single-file line of tourists.

The local white-vested tour guide, whose name was Roger surprisingly, paused in his hacking of a pathway and pointed ahead, "Only five more minutes."

"Thank God!" the tourist replied. "Who would have thought it would be such a trek just to see the Peruvian long-whiskered owlet!"

"Oh come on, Ian!" the middle-aged English woman directly behind him exclaimed. "It's the first time it's been spotted in twenty-six years! Can you imagine adding a picture of it to our photo album?"

"Yes dear." Ian sighed resignedly, deciding not to pursue his complaint any further, based on thirty-two years of marital experience.

It was hard to tell from their position on the jungle floor, but overhead above the canopy of trees, the sun was glaring down on the expansive Amazon rainforest, five and a half million square kilometres of mostly uninhabited land, split into two by the glorious Amazon River which was fed by eleven-hundred tributaries. It was a beautiful, sacred and incredibly dangerous place, a favorite destination for tourists such as this bird-watching tour group. They were based at Puerto Maldonado, a small village along the Tambopata River, at a lodge called the Wasai. The river itself was considered a Mecca for birdwatchers, and every year thousands flock to it on packaged tours in the hope of spotting that one rare bird that may never be seen again in their generation. This group was no different to any other, except that a few of them had heard about the recently spotted Peruvian long-whiskered owlet, which had made an appearance again after a twenty-six year absence, and they had paid the tour guide a fair amount to stray from the usual route for bird watching, to take them to where he believed they would be able to see and photograph one before leaving for home the next day.

Their detour had taken them several kilometers from the banks of the Tambopata River and into the dense undergrowth of the jungle, to a point where they could no longer tell which way was east or west, and they had to rely entirely on the direction and instincts of their local guide. He seemed competent enough, as he smashed his way through the jungle, sweat dripping from his body as he swung his machete around with a vengeance. His arduous efforts seemed to have paid off, though, as they suddenly broke through the dense foliage and into a small clearing, where the sunlight streamed down and had them squinting their eyes against its sudden brightness.

"We are here!" Roger exclaimed proudly, waving his arm towards the opposite end of the clearing.

"Good job, my friend!" Stefan van Jaarsveld replied, patting the guide on the back gently. He was the only South African in the group, on a working assignment as a freelance photographer for the local travel magazine, 'SA Travel' back in his home country.

They paused for a water break at the edge of the clearing, and Stefan stood to one side, surveying the rest of his group as he quenched his thirst from a canvas-covered canteen that had been strapped to his hip. Although the trek had been tough, the rest of the group was not accustomed to the extreme heat and humidity, whereas it was only slightly more uncomfortable for Stefan than what he was used to back home. There were five other people in the group in total, excluding the two tour guides and Stefan himself. There was Ian and his wife Brianne, from England, a middle aged couple who had taken a few weeks off from running their own restaurant to pursue their hobby of bird watching. Then there was Damon and Lena, a young newly married Swiss couple who had decided a trip to the Amazon might be a good honeymoon destination, but from the looks of them currently, sweaty, covered in dirty streaks, legs scratched and bleeding from the pesky low branches and twigs that had littered the non-existent pathway up to this point, they may be having second thoughts! Finally there was Mark, the American from New York City, a recent divorcee on a getaway trip from his collapsed life, trying to find a reason for the existence of mankind, and hoping to find it in the remotest parts of the world.

The only thing the group of six tourists had in common was that they were all carrying cameras. Stefan was the only one who had a camera which still used film, while all the rest used more modern digital cameras. His Canon EOS 5QD was a relic in today's modern world, but Stefan wouldn't change it for anything. It had earned him several awards for wildlife photography, despite or perhaps due to, its old school charm. As the rest of the group rested up, Stefan took the time to prepare his camera by cleaning the lens and attaching an additional zoom lens to it. After a few minutes the group followed Roger as he made his way across the clearing towards a small outcrop of rocks near the other end. When he reached them he held his finger to his lips and pointed towards the nearby jungle excitedly.

"The owlet was last seen in this area, nestled in the trees. Perhaps we will be lucky enough to see it from here!" he whispered, and the members of the group began pulling out their cameras and setting up to scan the nearby tree line and bushes.

Stefan gave the nearby undergrowth a quick once-over through the lens of his Canon, but found nothing interesting. To be honest, he was hardly concerned with the Peruvian long-whiskered owlet, or any other bird, for that matter, and had merely tagged along with the suggested detour in the hopes of coming across something a little more interesting instead. As the rest of the group whispered quietly to each other, commenting on imaginary sightings of the reclusive bird, Stefan headed off to the left, towards the nearest shaded area at the edge of the jungle, trying to escape the overbearing heat of the sun. He found a fallen tree trunk just a few meters into the undergrowth, and sat down to cool off. From his vantage point he could see the others as they huddled together like silent unarmed hunters, and he had to smile to himself at their eagerness, the long and grueling walk through the jungle now forgotten as they focused on the reason they were there.

Stefan felt something land on his shoulder, and then bounce off again, a small object like a leaf or twig. He looked down between his feet, but the floor was covered with hundreds of dead leaves and twigs, all part of the decomposing plant matter that kept the jungle alive, and it was impossible to see what it might have been. He was about to look away from the ground, when the slightest movement of a dead, brown leaf caught his eye, and he bent forward to get a better view.

The ant was large, as far as ants go, at least two centimeters in length, black in colour but with a large brown head. Stefan recognized it as the Carpenter ant, a common species worldwide, with thousands of variations. In South Africa they were slightly smaller than the one he was looking at now, but still very similar in color and shape. Generally speaking they were quick little creatures, always running around crazily at full speed as they burrowed or foraged in the undergrowth, which was their preferred scavenging ground. They usually resided in the hollowed out sections of dead wood, like the type found in the thousands of trees of the jungle, and it appeared this one had just fallen from its perch up above somewhere. There was something unusual about the movements of this particular ant, and Stefan couldn't quite place his finger on it at first. It was only while he watched the Carpenter ant as it headed away from his foot, towards the darker and wetter sections of the jungle, that he realized what it was that seemed so peculiar about its behavior!

The ant was walking in a completely straight line, totally out of character for their usual haphazard pattern of movement! Stefan found this fascinating, as he had never seen a species of the Carpenter behave this way before. As the ant made its bee-line path into the dark jungle, Stefan stood up to follow it, his group of tourist friends temporarily forgotten.

### Chapter 2

Despite its size, the Carpenter ant moved with surprising speed. Stefan had to quicken his pace just to keep up. Like the ant, though, he also had to navigate several obstacles, including dense leaves, fallen trees and the occasional sticky spider's web. The ant never strayed from its bee-line course though, headed in one direction and clambering over its own tiny obstacles as it did so. Stefan wasn't sure how long he had followed the ant for, but by the time he looked up for a moment from tracking the little creature he found himself surrounded by dense jungle, with no sign of a footpath in any direction. He looked back briefly, and could just see a glint of sunlight in the distance, which had to be the clearing where the others were. He considered turning back then, before he went too deep into the jungle, but the peculiar actions of the ant had caught his interest, and the journalistic instincts in him, from years of experience and investigative action, were taking over and telling him to keep following it instead.

He looked back at the ground where the ant had been a moment ago, but it was gone, and his heart raced briefly. The slightest movement of a twig on the ground a few feet ahead of him caught his eye though, and he spotted the shiny brown shell of the creature again as it scurried along its path on the jungle floor. He ducked his head under a protruding branch and then continued his pursuit. The foliage seemed to be reducing slightly after a few minutes, and Stefan noticed that the amount of decomposing leaves on the ground had also decreased. There was a smell in the air as well, different to the familiar plant smell of the jungle, a little bit more decayed and ancient, it seemed. As Stefan glanced ahead he could see the jungle opening up into a sort of clearing again, but this time still canopied by the treetops of the jungle, and devoid of any direct sunshine. The Carpenter was headed straight for it.

He reached the clearing a few moments after the ant had entered it, and took a moment to stand up straight, his back aching from all the bending and climbing he had done. The jungle seemed to have grown around this little circular section of itself, deciding not to invade it with fresh vines or trees. Overhead the sunlight filtered through the occasional break in the canopy roof, letting in a wayward ray of sunshine which highlighted thousands of particles of dust in the air, like a spotlight on a Broadway stage. The clearing was about twenty meters from end to end, and almost perfectly circular in shape. The jungle hugged the edges of it, the trees standing watch over the mini amphitheatre, a silent and creepy audience. In the center of the clearing was a lone tree trunk, blackened and dead, yet still majestically stretching over 80 meters into the air to touch the top of the canopy roof. It was large, would probably take three men standing around it, fingertip to fingertip, to completely enclose its circumference.

The ant had continued its one-directional journey across the dark brown foliage that littered the floor of the clearing, and Stefan could see now that it was headed directly for the dead tree in the center of the clearing. He moved after it, his feet making a crunching sound on the layer of dead dry matter under them. The sound was loud and unnatural in the open space, as if the jungle itself was protesting the presence of a human being in this, its sacred sanctuary. As Stefan moved towards the center of the strange clearing, he paused for a moment, realizing that in every direction the watching jungle looked the same, and that if he lost his line of sight back to his entry point, he would never find his way back again! This was a frightening thought, and he was already imagining that he would wander around this immense jungle for weeks, eventually dying of starvation, or even worse, become a meal for a Lima or some other carnivorous beast. He focused on a gnarled knot in the wood of the solitary tree ahead of him, memorizing it fervently, and using it as a guide to find his direction back to the tour party when the time came.

He was so focused on the spot on the tree that he almost stepped on the ant he was following, but caught himself just in time, just as his foot was descending to crush the little creature, which had now come to a stop. He stepped back hastily, and then crouched on his haunches to study the ant closer. It had reached a point about two meters from the base of the tree, and had started climbing a small green protruding plant, one of thousands in the clearing, scurrying up the stem of it, and pausing at the underside of the first leaf, approximately 20 centimeters off the ground. As Stefan watched, the ant opened its impressive pincers and bit into one of the large veins on the base of the leaf. He was expecting the ant to eat or drink from the juice of the plant and then move on again, but the ant remained completely motionless. Stefan frowned and leaned forward on all fours to get a closer view. The layer of material on the ground stuck into his palms sharply, and he winced in pain as he lifted his hand up, studying the strange objects which had pierced his skin.

They looked like dry gnarled thorns, but as he pulled one out and held it up to his eyes, he realized with shock instead that it was the remains of a Carpenter ant! Its body was dried up and almost petrified. The space where its head had been was now a flower shaped bowl, and it was the sharp edges of this that had penetrated the skin of his palm. As he dropped the dead ant to the ground, he watched as it landed on the strange bedding that covered the floor all over the clearing, and his eyes widened. The "foliage" was actually the bodies of Carpenter ants. Thousands, no, _millions_ of them! Spread across the entire floor of the clearing from end to end in a layer at least ten centimeters deep. Protruding up out of them were the thousands of small green plants, similar to the one the ant he had followed had bitten into, and he could now see that on each plant there were at least seven other Carpenter ants, similarly locked in by their jaws to the undersides of the leaves.

Stefan reached for his camera. This was a sight that he was certain had never been photographed or documented before! Such a mass grave of Carpenter ants, in this strange clearing in an overgrown jungle, surrounding a majestic dead tree, would make a fantastic feature in National Geographic, and he was lucky enough to be the one who had stumbled across it! His mind was already racing with thoughts of awards and accolades! Through the lens of his Canon, the true beauty and strangeness of the ant graveyard came to life. The filtered sunlight which occasionally glanced off the shiny brown bodies on the floor seemed to make them sparkle with an unnatural life, against this the backdrop of strikingly green stemmed plants, which he placed slightly out of focus in the distance. The pictures were amazing, and with each click of the button he knew he was photographing a sight that human eyes had never seen before!

He crawled closer to one of the plant stems, where three Carpenter ants had clamped down onto the veins in the leaves, and took a close up picture of it. One of the three ants looked slightly different, and as he zoomed in on the lens he could see that it was already dead, its body still held in position by the permanently closed mandibles. The body had already petrified, had become dry and brittle, and from its head a tiny brown stalk had protruded, about a half-centimeter long and topped with a bulbous round node. This was something new that he had not noticed before, and he focused the camera on the strange protrusion from the ant's body. The bulbous ball at the top of the stalk was brown and laced with tiny hairs, and as he studied it through the lens he could swear the entire thing was moving! His hands were trembling from excitement, and he steadied them as he prepared for the close up shot, slowing his breathing at the same time, the way a hunter might do before pulling the trigger on a kill. A split second before he pressed the button to take the photograph, the bulb at the top of the stalk protruding from the dead ant's head exploded in his face!

### Chapter 3

Through the camera lens, the exploding bulb seemed enlarged and enormous, spewing out thousands of tiny particles that glinted in the dim sunshine momentarily, before dispersing in all directions, carried by the slightest of breezes. In reality though, and as Stefan jumped backwards, it really only made a small popping sound and the fine spores it released could not be seen easily with the naked eye without some effort. Stefan had been right up near it when it had popped, and the spores had covered his face and camera lens, and he was certain he had breathed some of them in! His throat tickled slightly and he swallowed saliva to clear his mouth of the prickly dry sensation that had formed. As he listened now, he could hear the faint popping sound coming from all around him, as dead ants all over the clearing, which were in a similar state, had also started exploding. Through the rays of sunlight filtering through the tree top canopy, Stefan could now see the glinting of thousands of particles were actually the spores that had been released into the air and not just common dust as he had first assumed.

He leaned in towards the plant he had been photographing, and could see the dead ant had now fallen from its perch, the tiny explosion releasing it from the plant and leaving only a dumbbell shaped incision on the vein of the leaf. Its body had fallen between the thousands of others on the ground below the stem, and was now indiscernible amongst them. As Stefan scanned the plants around him, he could see that the ants attached to them were in different stages of the strange metamorphosis, some still moved their legs, others had already died but were still freshly attached, others had decomposed and petrified, and then the rest had started forming the strange stalk and pod from their heads which contained the spores. There was something familiar about all of this, and Stefan tried to recall where he had read about these phenomena, but it remained just out of his mind's reach.

Regardless of what he had heard though, he still knew that this was a unique photographic opportunity, and that it would have far reaching implications in the realm of the scientific and biological worlds! From the strange action of the ant – marching to its death from a distance away – to the almost cocoon-like transformation of its body, and even the contents of the pods that was released – there were enzymes and bacteria and life that needed to be examined and studied, and Stefan was going to be there on the front lines, documenting the entire thing! The excitement of his discovery was difficult to put into any easy words, so he wasn't going to try. His art was photography, and his pictures spoke for him!

He was so wrapped up in what he was doing, that he almost never heard the crack of a dead branch as it was stepped on somewhere in the jungle behind him. He swung around quickly, trying to see what had caused the sound, but it was virtually impossible to see beyond the wall of the jungle that surrounded the clearing on all sides. He heard a voice calling out, and for an instant almost didn't recognize his own name.

"Stefan! Where are you?"

The accent was American, and he knew instantly who it was. Mark, the divorcee from New York, was in the jungle somewhere, looking for him! For a moment Stefan panicked. If anyone else saw this place it was over! His discovery would be lost to the greed of the rest of the world! He had to make sure that he kept the American, and everyone else, away from here! He rushed over to the large solitary dead tree in the center of the clearing, his feet crunching over hundreds of dead ant bodies, the sound seeming almost deafening, and felt his way around the trunk until he felt the familiar node in the bark that he had forced himself to memorize earlier. He placed his back against the trunk at that point and marched quickly in a straight line towards where the jungle met the edge of the clearing. He ducked in under the nearest protruding branches, and rushed head first into the undergrowth. He could feel his face being scratched by the leaves and jagged twigs, but he was more concerned about leaving distance between himself and his secret discovery.

He had gone almost thirty meters when he heard the voice calling again, this time much closer. He paused briefly, and then called out in reply.

"I'm here."

There was a muffled response from a point ahead of him, and then the foliage moved aside and the familiar face of the American appeared, the second Peruvian tour-guide at his side.

"Oh thank God!" he gasped, raising his hands in the air. "We thought we'd lost you!"

"I'm okay." Stefan replied.

"Are you crazy going into the jungle by yourself like that?" Mark asked, a genuine tone of concern in his voice. "You should know to never leave the guides!"

Stefan nodded. "Yeah, I know. I needed a leak. Got a bit sidetracked – and to be honest, a bit lost!"

"Shit, you're bleeding!" Mark exclaimed, turning Stefan's head to the side with his hand and examining a long scratch left by a wayward branch.

"It's nothing. Did we get a shot of the owlet?"

The change in subject seemed to work, and the American beamed with delight. "We did! Well, at least, the Swedes did!" He cursed briefly under his breath. "They managed to get a shot of one before it flew off into the jungle, no thanks to the stupid Brits for shouting so loud they probably scared the thing into a heart attack!"

Stefan chuckled, and then moved past the American and back in the direction from which he had come, hoping to lead him away from his ant graveyard. The big man followed, still rambling about the fleeing Peruvian long-whiskered owlet as they headed back towards the rest of the tour group. Stefan wasn't listening to a word he was saying though; instead he was doing his best to memorize the path they took, so that he could return here one day and finish what he had started. He took particular attention of strangely shaped tree trunks, outcroppings of boulders, even the sounds he could hear around him... running water to the left, the peculiar shout of a bird to his right.

By the time they reached the clearing with the others again, he was fairly certain he could find his way back to the dead tree from there, and he was glad to see an easy marker in the form of the tree trunk he had taken a seat on earlier, which would highlight the direction he would have to take. Confident that he would find it again, he turned his attention to the babbling group of tourists that had surrounded him now instead.

Brianne, the wife of the overweight Brit, Ian, was the first to rush up and fuss over him.

"You scared us beyond belief!" she cried, her oversized safari hat knocking Stefan on the head as she tried awkwardly to hug him. Stefan hugged back briefly, smiling.

"I'm sorry, Mrs B." He said, and then turned to take the outstretched hand of her husband Ian, who pumped it up and down furiously.

"Good to have you back, old chap!"

Damon, the young Swedish man slapped him hard on the back a few times, sending puffs of dust into the air. "Have you been rolling around with someone in there?" he asked, laughing.

Stefan shook his head and smiled. "I'm okay, everybody. Sorry for the fright I gave you all. I needed the loo, and got a bit lost, but thanks to Mark here, I'm alive and well!"

The gaggling group turned their attention onto Mark now, praising him for his bravery. The American loved it, of course.

Roger, the main tour guide, had been standing to one side during all of this, and now, as Stefan was separated from the rest, he strolled over and stood next to him.

"Did you see anything interesting?" he asked, his accent thick, but the words pronounced perfectly. He nodded his head towards the jungle. "In there?"

Stefan's heart raced for a moment, and he could swear his cheeks and neck were starting to redden. Could this man know what he had found in there?

"Nah." He replied calmly, trying to hide his nervousness. "Just leaves and trees."

The big man nodded solemnly. "It's not that which we can see which kills us. It's that which we can't."

Stefan had no idea what that meant, but it sounded foreboding enough coming from the serious man. Roger stood at his side for a few more uncomfortable moments, before he chuckled and stepped away, calling in the rest of the group to follow him back through the jungle to the river, where their boat waited. Walking away from that clearing was tougher than Stefan had imagined it would be, and he spent the entire two hour trek back to the Tambopata River replaying the images of the secret clearing and the dead ants in his mind, while he kept his camera firmly in his grip, determined to protect the valuable images it contained at all costs.

### Chapter 4

The Wasai River Lodge was situated on the banks of the Tambopata River, a short walk from the jetty to the main lodge and the cabins. The tour group arrived back at the lodge at around four pm and they all split up as they headed for their individual residences. Stefan was staying in Lodge Number fourteen, which was a large open plan house on short stilts, wooden walls and floors, with a thatch roof that was open around the edges, to let in fresh air. This early in December it was already blisteringly hot and humid, and without the ventilation the accommodations would have been unbearable. As he entered the lodge he pulled open all the lace curtains which covered the doors and windows, to try and get some air circulating, before tossing his camera case on one of the two double beds with their green and red duvet covers, framed by a lace mosquito net. There was a small fridge in the corner, which only worked between six and ten pm each day, as that was when the lodge ran the generators to provide electricity, and Stefan reached inside to find that the six pack of local beer he had placed there the day before was still fairly cool. He took one can out and headed for the porch.

There were two camping recliners on the porch, and he flopped into one of them and looked out over the nearby valley, sipping his beer. Although it was a few hours to sunset, the sky had already begun darkening due to several large banks of clouds that had started rolling in. Summer in Peru was the rainy season, and here the rain could last for several days, pouring down buckets and buckets of fresh water to resupply the flowing Amazon and its tributaries. He had been here for four days already, and the plan was to leave tomorrow. He knew that he needed to change those plans somehow, so that he could have more time to get back to the graveyard. As he studied those ominous clouds and the thick mist over the tree tops that seemed to accompany them, he began to doubt that he could make that happen.

He was on a photography commission from SA Travel magazine, a Johannesburg based publication which relied almost entirely on freelance photographers and journalists. They had commissioned him to do a one page article on the bird-watching tours in Peru, and to accompany the article with some photographs. He had already done most of the legwork during the first three days, and had stashed three rolls of film containing not much more than pictures of the local bird wildlife, the lodge and the banks of the Tambopata River. Those would be more than sufficient for the article he had to write, which would pay him a decent wage, excluding all the expenses the magazine had already covered including his flights to and from Johannesburg, and his accommodation here at the Lodge. The expenses would not cover more than five nights though, and the lodge was not cheap as it charged in American dollars. At the current exchange rate in South Africa, this was almost three thousand Rand a night and he knew he couldn't afford that. The weather wasn't looking good either, and he could be stuck in his cabin for the next five or six days if it rained continuously, which was to be expected. At that rate he would be bankrupt!

His mind drifted back to his discovery earlier that afternoon. The massive ant graveyard was a natural wonder, and a story and photographs around it would be priceless! He had no doubt that any magazine would swoop on the story, and pay him top dollar for it. The problem was that SA Travel would not be one of them! As long as they were footing the bill, they were only interested in the bird watching tourist factor, and a bunch of dead ants weren't going to entice them to extend his stay for another two weeks. No, he had to make another plan. Communication facilities at the Lodge were non-existent. Cell phones and Internet access were out of the question, as the nearest tower was over three hundred kilometers away. Stefan was beginning to realize his only option was going to be to return to South Africa tomorrow, claim his commission for the SA Travel job, and then find a sponsor for a return trip once the rainy season had passed. Finding the graveyard in clear weather had been tough enough, trying to do so in an Amazonian downpour would be virtually impossible!

His throat was itchy, and he rubbed his tongue against the back of it to try and sooth the irritation, but that and even the cool beer didn't help. He was about to get up and head into the lodge to check the first aid kit for some Strepsils or other throat lozenges, when a figure at the bottom of the porch caught his eye. Mark, the American, was approaching the steps, carrying a green plastic bag.

"Evening." Stefan greeted, as the large man climbed the three stairs to the porch and sat down in the other camping chair.

"I thought you might appreciate some real food." Mark smiled, handing the parcel over to Stefan.

"What is it?"

"Hamburgers!"

Stefan looked up in surprise. The menu here was mostly exotic fruits and wild meat, with the usual buffet style dinners being served nightly. Although delicious, they did become boring after a while. "How the fuck did you organize a hamburger?"

Mark laughed. "If there is one thing I have learnt in this world, it's that money talks. Specifically, dollars talk!"

"Okay." Stefan laughed. "I don't want to know, then." He opened up the paper bag and the fresh smell of meat patty, tomato and cheese wafted up to him. "Man! That smells good!"

"It's not a Big Mac, or anything." Mark chuckled. "But it sure beats anything else they've been serving here!"

Stefan bit down into the hamburger with fervor, savoring every mouthful. The food seemed to alleviate the itchiness in his throat as well. He offered Mark a beer, and the man accepted, helping himself from the fridge in the lodge. They sat in silence for a while, as Stefan ate, and it was a truly peaceful sensation, just staring out over the valley at the incoming weather, the flowing river, boats rocking gently against the jetty and in the background the miscellaneous calls of birds, sloths and frogs. Once Stefan had finished his hamburger he rolled the plastic bag up and tossed it into a nearby bin.

"Thank you." He said to Mark. "That was delicious."

"No problem."

Stefan downed the rest of his beer, and then went to fetch two more from the fridge. He handed one to Mark.

"So what do you do, exactly?" he asked. "You know, for a living."

Mark smiled wryly. "I guess you could say I'm self employed."

"That makes two of us then."

Mark nodded. "I play poker for a living."

"Wow, really?" Stefan had known a few poker players who played socially, but never one who did it professionally. "That sounds really interesting? And tough! Isn't there a lot of luck involved though?"

Mark shook his head. "No. Well, there is to a degree, but it all comes down to how well you play in the long term. Short term luck and therefore variance plays a big part, but over a period of time, the good players will show a profit, guaranteed!"

"That's fascinating." Stefan replied. "What about the legalities, though? I know there was a big ban on online poker at one stage, specifically in America?"

"That was tough for many of my friends in the business." Mark replied. "Luckily for me, my main focus was on live poker, and that is still perfectly legal if played in a licenced casino or poker room. I've known acquaintances who actually moved to other countries and took up residence there, just to sustain their sole source of income as online poker pro's."

"Wow. And where are you based in New York?"

"Manhattan." Mark replied, smiling. "I have the most amazing view of Central Park from the twenty-second floor of a luxury apartment complex. What can I say, poker pays well!"

"And your family?"

"Ah. Not so well." He shrugged. "My wife and I divorced last month. I guess all the travelling I had to do got to her eventually. Or maybe it was the doorman of our building. I'm not sure which came first – excuse the pun."

"Ouch." Stefan replied. "That sucks."

"It does. This will be the first Christmas I spend without her in fourteen years. Ho-fucking-ho. That's why I took this vacation. I needed to clear my head, you know? Get away... from everything and everyone... before then."

"Well, then you came to the right place."

They stared out in agreement at the creeping darkness as it sneaked in over the nearby peaks and breast stroked its way across the wide Tambopata. Behind it the rainclouds clashed briefly, flashing occasional bursts of lightning and rumbling as if they were angry at the tiny world below.

### Chapter 5

The branches slapped against Stefan's face as he raced through the thick jungle, his heart pounding louder than his feet as he ran. From behind him he could hear the grunting and panting of... something. He couldn't see it, even when he glanced back occasionally, but it sounded big! And it was getting closer! The jungle looked familiar, yet at the same time he couldn't be sure! Had he followed the markers correctly? Was that fallen tree stump the right one? Was the waterfall on the left or the right of him? He knew he needed to focus, but all he could think of right now was the beast that was gaining on him, and getting to the graveyard in one piece! It wasn't any easier with the rain bucketing down! It was strange though, as drenched as he was it was still furiously hot! He almost tripped over a protruding branch which grabbed at his foot as he passed, but managed to regain his balance and keep running.

The throaty growl of the beast behind him seemed nearer now, and Stefan realized that if he looked back now it was over! He could almost feel the hot breath of the monster on the back of his bare legs, now bleeding and scratched from the chase through the jungle. For a moment the ground beneath him seemed to become softer, as if the rain was turning the decomposed dead leaves and sand into muddy goo, and with every step he made he seemed to be slowing down! As the animal sounds behind him got closer he caught a glimpse of sunlight through the foliage ahead of him, and for a moment was certain he could see the familiar dead tree!

He burst into the clearing almost unexpectedly. The thick layer of shiny ant carcasses had become slippery from the rain, and gave way beneath his feet, sending him sprawling into a slide, and then slamming face down onto the ground, bits of dead ant spilling into his mouth and ears and eyes. He spat them out immediately, and tried to stand up, but the slippery mass beneath him wouldn't give him any leverage, and he found himself floundering around in hundreds of thousands of dead ants.

Except... these ants weren't dead!

He felt an excruciating pain on his hand, and looked down to see a large Carpenter ant had slammed its pincers into the skin between his fingers, and blood was already beginning to pour out. Another bite, and then another, and pretty soon he was feeling the stinging and burning all over his body! The carpet of ants was moving now, moving towards him, as if each ant had noticed his presence and needed to feed on his body! He started screaming, trying to get back into the jungle, even if it meant facing the pursuing animal that had chased him here in the first place... that would be better than this! That would be quick and easy. Not this death. Not this pain.

Not this fire!

Ants had gotten into his mouth again, and they were biting his tongue now, the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat... he was swallowing them and they were biting into his trachea!

Oh Crap! Was this how it would end?

As the heat of the biting consumed him, he felt himself starting to give up, losing the will to fight... He lay down on the ground, moaning softly as the army of ants covered his body, biting, biting, biting still...

It was going to be okay, he thought. Stefan van Jaarsveld: consumed by nature. It was a fitting eulogy for his life...

Stefan.

Stefan...

Stefan!

* * *

Someone was shaking him roughly by the shoulder. For a moment Stefan thought it was the beast from the jungle, which had pounced out and grabbed him, but even as he raised his arms in defense he realized that he was no longer in the jungles of the Amazon, and that instead he was sitting in an uncomfortable metal chair, surrounded by lots of other strange people. The person who was shaking him by the shoulder was his new friend, Mark. Stefan looked up at him in confusion, and then around him at the strange surroundings.

"Where am I?" he asked.

Mark, seemingly confused by the question, replied. "We're at the airport in Puerto Maldonado."

Stefan looked around again, and as the familiarity of the airport became apparent, he nodded. The airport in Puerto Maldonado, approximately fifty-five kilometers from the Bolivian border, had been their landing point from Lima when they arrived in Peru. But what were they doing back here already, he wondered? He noticed the carry-on bag at his feet, and he could see the rest of the tour group from the Wasai Lodge had theirs also. His last clear memory was sitting on the porch of the lodge sharing a beer with the American, so how had he gone from there to here without any recollection of the time inbetween?

"The Star Peru flight from Puerto Maldonado to Lima will be boarding in five minutes at Gate 1." The announcement came over the small speakers in the fairly busy lobby in English, and was then repeated in Spanish.

"Are you feeling okay?" Mark asked, concernedly, taking a seat next to Stefan on the narrow metal bench. "You zoned out for a moment there."

Stefan smiled weakly. "I must have. I'm sorry."

Zoned out was an understatement, he thought. He had completely misplaced the last 18 hours! Going to sleep, packing, eating breakfast, the three hour boat trip to Puerto Maldonado, even checking in at the airport – all missing! He didn't want to say it out loud, but he was truly concerned! What if he had picked up some sort of illness, like Yellow Fever or something similar? He wasn't feeling ill or anything, aside from the itch in his throat, of course, so that made no sense!

"I guess you and Brianne are both just moody, then." Mark chuckled.

"What do you mean?" Stefan asked.

"Well neither one of you said a single word on the boat trip this morning! I just assumed you weren't looking forward to going back to the real world again. This place can have that affect on you!" he grunted. "Thank fuck I'm not that attached! You can give me the modern world any day!"

Stefan glanced over at where Brianne and Ian, the British couple, were seated, a few meters away from him. Ian was paging through a dog-eared Spanish magazine, but Brianne was sitting up straight in her chair, staring ahead emotionlessly, her hands folded on her lap. From the look of her Stefan wasn't sure if she was even aware of what was happening around her or not, but as the boarding call was made for the flight to Lima, she stood up and after smiling at Ian, clutched her bag and headed towards Gate 1. There was nothing strange about her after all, Stefan decided, at least not on the level that he was experiencing!

He stood up and followed Mark, the rest of the tour group, and several other local residents to the boarding gate. Outside the large windows the rain was pelting down furiously, so hard and fast that it was difficult to even make out the British Aerospace 146 airplane that waited for them only a few meters away. The pretty Spanish girl who checked their tickets and passports smiled at Stefan as he handed her his papers. She gave them a once over, then nodded.

"Enjoy your flight, sir."

Stefan pocketed his passport, smiled back, and then hunched his coat up over his neck as the automatic doors slid open ahead of him, the warm rain pelting against his face as he ran to the airplane, trying to ignore the fact that the growling of the jet engines were reminding him of some dark creature from a fading dream.

### Chapter 6

The flight from Puerto Maldonado to Lima took the better part of three hours. This included a forty-five minute stop-over in Cusco. By the time they had reached Lima it was already two-thirty in the afternoon. The passengers of Flight 1182 stepped off onto the tarmac at Jorge Chavez International Airport in bright sunshine, with temperatures well over thirty-five degrees Celsius, a great relief from the downpours in Puerto Maldonado, however. The airport served more than fourteen million annual passengers, and was growing in size every year. With direct flights from Lima to almost anywhere in the world, it really was Peru's international gateway for tourism. Once inside the massive terminal, the tour group split up momentarily to check in for their individual flights back to their home countries, promising to meet again for coffee if time allowed, at the nearest coffee lounge.

Unlike the others, Stefan's flight back to South Africa was not direct. He would have to repeat the trip he made coming to Peru in reverse, by first flying to Toronto, Canada with Air Canada, then boarding a British Airways flight to Heathrow, before boarding a third flight to Johannesburg. It was going to be a long journey, and he wasn't looking forward to it! Booking his luggage in and getting his tickets took almost thirty minutes, and by the time he had finished he was keen on that coffee. He made his way over to the Manacaru Café Restaurant where he found Mark and the Swedes already seated at a table. He joined them and ordered a filter coffee, black with no sugar.

"What time is your flight?" Mark asked him.

"At five" Stefan replied. "And yours?"

"Quarter past four. I should be home in time for Game of Thrones." He laughed.

"Where are the Brits?" Stefan asked.

"No idea." Lena, the Swedish woman, replied. "Perhaps they have already boarded?"

Mark shrugged. "Kudos to them, then." He looked around at the rest of the group. "So who's coming back next year?"

The Swedish couple shook their heads, and Damon said "Next year this time, if everything goes well, we will have our child to take care of." They gave each other a quick hug, beaming from the thought.

"Cheers to that." Mark chuckled. "Kids are wonderful. Well, not that I would know. Let me rephrase; other people's kids are wonderful! As for next year, I think I'm going to stick with the wonders of the twenty-first century instead."

They laughed and looked at Stefan, for his input.

"Well," Stefan replied. "I might return again. You know... if I get another commission for this side of the world. But in my line of work, you never know." He hoped that his nonchalant reply was delivered well enough to hide the excitement he was actually feeling about returning to Peru as soon as possible again, preferably within this same month and year! He was already planning the trip in his mind, from finding the magazine which would sponsor his trip, to once again photographing the amazing ant graveyard deep in the Amazon jungle! After that the doors would open for him, and his life would change forever! He had already started playing with names for the article he would write about the little creatures; perhaps something like 'Jungle Graveyard' or 'Where Ants go to Die'. No, he thought, an even better idea, 'The December Dead'. It had a nicer ring to it and related well with the month in which he had discovered the natural wonder. Anyway, he would decide eventually. Right now he just wanted to get back home, get paid and get back to work!

Mark was the first one to stand up after a moment and greet everyone.

"Guess I have to check in. Gentlemen... and lady" he added, "It's been a blast! May our paths cross again some time?"

He shook Damon's hand and hugged Lena briefly, then turned to Stefan and held out his hand.

"Come visit me if you're ever in the Big Apple, my friend."

Stefan nodded, shaking Mark's hand vigorously. "I will." He somehow suspected he would never see the American again.

Stefan greeted Damon and Lena briefly, before they all left the Café together, heading off to their different international boarding gates. Stefan made his way to Gate Eleven, found a comfortable seat near the door, and laid his head back against the chair, closing his eyes for a moment. It was going to be a long wait to board, and then an even longer wait before he put his foot on South African soil again.

### * * *

It was the cool breeze on his face that eventually woke him up. It carried with it the slightest hint of pine and lavender, and it wafted past his nostrils gently, reminding him to open his eyes. He was expecting to see the modern, bustling airport in Lima, Peru, but instead he found himself surrounded by a wall of pine trees and forest plants. For a moment he thought he was dreaming again and actually turned to look behind him in case the unknown beast from his nightmare was sneaking up on him, but there was nothing there except for more forest, undulating upwards towards a mountain in the distance. He could hear the sound of running water, gentle and constant, and it was soothing. It also reminded him that he was thirsty... so thirsty! He took a few unsteady steps towards the sound, the thin layer of fallen pine needles creating a slippery surface beneath his feet and he had to work hard not to lose his balance.

Looking down at his shoes he was stunned to find that his favorite pair of hiking boots, the pair he had been wearing at the airport in Peru, were filthy and covered in grime! They looked as if they hadn't been washed, or even removed, in days or weeks! Stefan also discovered that his long beige Chino's and V-neck blue and white long sleeve t-shirt were also in a similar state, ragged and torn in places, streaked with dried mud and blades of grass. He still had his Canon camera strapped over his shoulder and its canvas case looked as if it had seen better days. He was more convinced than ever now that he was simply dreaming, as none of what he was seeing was making any sense. He tried pinching himself, and as cliché as it seemed, it wasn't working. The thirst had started closing up his throat now, and he decided to play along with this crazy dream, and see where it took him. He stumbled forward towards the sound of running water, his legs aching at every muscle and joint, and as he reached the top of a small incline the little stream below came into sight.

Seeing the crystal clear running water almost had him choking with joy, as he slid and hopped down the other side of the hill, almost failing to stop in time at the stream at the bottom, his one foot miss-stepping and splashing the icy cold water up onto his dirty pants. He knelt down quickly, shoving his hands and face into the shallow stream, and swallowing mouthfuls of the delicious icy water. The sensation of it rushing down his throat was heavenly, and he drank until he thought his belly would pop. When he was done he sat back on his haunches, panting heavily. He took a moment to look around, trying to determine where his dreaming mind had taken him to this time. The forest around him resembled the Amazon in many ways, but it was somehow completely different as well. Where the Amazon was densely overgrown, this forest was not as much. The large leaved plants with their orange flowers in Peru were not here in this place, instead there were tufts of lavender plants, and the ever-present pine needles.

It seemed familiar to him, for some reason, and he tried to remember why, but for the life of him he could not quite place what it was. He was certain, however, that he had been here before! At some point in his life he had visited this place! The ground at the edge of the stream where his feet were resting gave way and sucked his one shoe into the muddy ground. The mud had a strange quality, more claylike than sandy, and Stefan rubbed it between his fingers, the red and yellows of the clay sticking to them. A noise to his left made him look up suddenly, and he caught a glimpse of a small animal as it darted into the undergrowth away from him. The silver/grey of its pelt and its small head made it instantly recognizable. It was a blue duiker, a small type of wild buck normally found in the forests of... South Africa?

Was that where he was? He wondered. If so, which forest? There were so many across the country! The red and yellow clay on his fingertips, drying now in the warm air, made tiny bells ring in his mind. He recognized this clay because he had been here before! Looking up at the peaks of the nearby mountain, they became even more familiar! This was Hogsback, he realized, and he was somewhere in the Amatola Forests - in South Africa!

He felt even more confused now that he had figured out where he was, as what did this forest in South Africa have to do with the Amazon or the Carpenter ants? Why would his dreams vary so wildly between the two locations? He could feel the panic setting in! He had to find a way to...

Stefan van Jaarsveld stood up slowly and turned around, his mind suddenly switching off. He stared at the forest in front of him, as if he was looking through the trees at something else beyond them. There was something he had wanted to do a moment ago, something he was trying to figure out, but for some reason he couldn't remember what it was... and somehow it no longer mattered. The forest was ahead of him, and beyond that... that was where he needed to be... the place...

He took a weak step forward, and then another... and soon he had vanished between the trees – the forest behind him coming back to life as if Stefan van Jaarsveld had never been there in the first place.

### Chapter 7

Jimmy Hoyer was trying to block out the sounds of the other kids on the bus as they all sang "Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall" at the top of their lungs, happily accompanied by the older lady seated in the front seat, next to the driver, who had been stupid enough to start the song in the first place. Although the song had been fun for the first twenty-two bottles of beer, it had become irritating after a while and now Jimmy just wanted them to stop! He had always felt older than his twelve years, more comfortable with friends that were two or three years older than he was, so it was difficult to get into the happy vibe that was going on in the bus full of children his age, no matter how tempting it had been originally. The very fact that he was even on this bus in the first place had probably also played a part in his non-willingness to participate and "get into the spirit" as the Miss Winslow, the camp leader, had suggested he do. It was bad enough that he was headed to a one week summer camp that he didn't want to go to during the December school holidays, a time when he should be at home, in his room, playing the new Grand Theft Auto on his Playstation, and the fact that the camp was going to be at Hobbiton-on-Hogsback – or, basically, in the middle of nowhere, was doing nothing to inspire him or change his mind!

The kid sharing the seat with him, a chubby guy named Marco Machado, which was a Portuguese or Greek name, Jimmy wasn't sure, would occasionally stab him in the ribs with his fat elbow every few minutes as he swung his arms around wildly in accompaniment to the song. Jimmy felt like grabbing him by the chubby cheeks and head-butting him on the nose, the way he had seen the bad guys do it in the movies he watched on the M-net Action channel when his mother wasn't home, but he had never hit anyone before in his life and knew it was just his wild imagination acting up again! Anyone who knew him well enough – especially his older friends – knew how crazy his imagination was, as he was always entertaining them with made up stories of knights, castles and dragons. In fact, when he wasn't playing GTA or doing homework, Jimmy was writing stories, it was the one thing he loved more than his gaming console, snake-board or even sometimes, his pet hamster, Max. Even now, as the chaos and cacophony continued around him, he was switching it off and heading into an imaginary scenario in his head instead.

The fat elbow stabbed him again, though, ripping the daydream away abruptly, and out of frustration Jimmy elbowed the kid back with all his strength, shouting "Stop it!" as loudly as he could.

The singing stopped almost immediately and the silence that followed was accompanied by the unhappy frown of Miss Winslow, who also happened to be Jimmy's Sixth Grade Physical Education teacher.

"James Hoyer!" she scolded, waving her finger at him disapprovingly.

"It's Jimmy." He muttered under his breath. He hated being called James. It was what his father had called him, a long time ago.

"What was that?" Miss Winslow asked, her eyebrows rose questioningly, and a couple of the nearby kids chuckled softly.

"I said... it's Jimmy." He replied. "Not James. Jimmy."

"Well not according to the school records." She smiled. "But we are not here to argue about your name, young man. We are here to have..." She cupped her one ear with her hand towards the rest of the bus, and in unison the rest of the children shouted in reply.

"Fun!"

Jimmy rolled his eyes and shook his head. They reminded him of a bunch of mindless zombies! He briefly pictured Miss Winslow as the zombie leader, playing 'Simon Says' with her legion of undead school children, and the thought brought a smile to his face.

"That's better" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "Let's turn those frowns upside down! Where were we? Oh yes! Thirty-eight bottles of beer on the wall, thirty-eight bottles of beer...!"

The irony of a bunch of pre-teens singing a song about alcohol had Jimmy bumping his head softly against the window in agony. Was this how the next seven days were going to be? If so he needed to start working on an escape plan! Perhaps he could tattoo a map of the Amatola forests on his whole body and...

Fat boy Marco nudged Jimmy in the ribs again, and he was about to freak out completely this time, but when he looked at Marco he noticed he was half-standing in his seat, looking forward and pointing at something. Jimmy lifted his head to see over the seat in front of him, trying to determine what Marco was pointing at. Miss Winslow was still happily directing the makeshift choir she had formed from the students in the bus, her back turned to the road behind her. The school bus driver, Mr. Klopper, was busy with the air-conditioning dials on the dashboard, his eyes momentarily not on the road. What Jimmy saw through the windshield sent an ice-cold shiver down his spine!

"Miss Winslow!" he yelled loudly, pointing towards the road.

The teacher looked at him angrily for a moment, but when she saw the look of fear on the two boy's faces, she turned her head to look behind her, and then screamed! Mr. Klopper jerked his head up from the dashboard to look at the road again, and immediately slammed his foot on the brakes, the momentum of the sudden slowing of the bus slamming Jimmy's body into the rear of the seat in front of him, hard enough to take his breath away momentarily. When it passed he could see the bus was not going to stop in time, that a collision was going to be unavoidable, and he braced himself by sitting down and putting his feet up against the seat in front of him.

There was a loud bang, accompanied by the sound of screeching tyres on tar and the cracking sound of glass as the windshield shattered but remained in place, all of this accompanied by the girl-like screaming of a bus full of young boys. Through his small window Jimmy saw an object fly past momentarily, a flash of blue, white and red, before it disappeared out of view behind him. The bus hopped dangerously a few times, the tyres still squealing, before it finally regained stability and slowed to a dead stop.

There was complete silence for a moment. It was a peaceful respite from the cacophony of noise that had preceded the accident, and Jimmy closed his eyes and drank the silence in. Then there was sobbing, and talking and soon the bus was alive again. Miss Winslow had been flung backwards into the dashboard, hitting her head on the windscreen, cracking it and leaving a small stain of bright red blood there. Mr. Klopper was undoing his seatbelt and already opening the door to exit, before he turned back to Miss Winslow and asked her if she was okay. She nodded briefly, wincing in pain and holding the back of her head, after which Mr. Klopper jumped out of the bus and ran towards the rear of it. One of the boys sitting near the sliding side door took the initiative of opening it, and this was an invitation for the rest of them to peel out of the small bus, eager to find out what had just happened.

Jimmy followed them, and as he stepped onto the tarmac the first thing he noticed was the smell of burnt rubber in the air. Miss Winslow was climbing out of the passenger door and immediately started herding the boys towards the side of the road, away from the tarmac. Her back was turned to Jimmy, and he instead headed towards the rear of the bus, past the small Venter trailer, to where Mr. Klopper was kneeling on the road, looking down at something that lay there. As he approached, Jimmy at first thought it was some kind of animal, a buck or dog or something, but the nearer he got the more evident it became that the object lying on the road was neither. It was only when he was a foot behind Mr. Klopper and looking over his shoulder that he realized in horror what it actually was.

Mr. Klopper, his voice shaky, looked up at Jimmy.

"He came out of nowhere! There was nothing I could do!"

Jimmy placed his small hand on the shuddering grown up's shoulder and patted it gently, nodding in agreement, while the whole time he could not take his eyes off the twisted and bleeding body of the man in the road.

### Chapter 8

Miss Winslow had now settled the group of seven other boys down, and had them seated together near a barb-wire fence at the side of the road, sheltered in the shade of the pine trees of the forest behind them. She then made her way over to where Jimmy and Mr. Klopper were studying the body in the road, and held her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream as she got a look at his bloodied and torn clothes.

"Is he..." she asked, her voice shaky.

Mr. Klopper nodded, leaning back on his haunches and placing his hands over his face in despair.

"No." Jimmy replied, and both adults looked at him curiously.

"What do you mean?" Mr. Klopper asked.

"He isn't dead." Jimmy said, and then pointed at the man in the road's chest. "Look. He's breathing."

It was true. His chest was moving. Not much, just barely rising and falling, but definitely moving! Mr. Klopper let out a huge sigh of relief and banged his palms on his legs.

"Oh, Thank God!"

"We need to call an ambulance." Miss Winslow added. "And the police."

Mr. Klopper looked up at her, and his face had paled. "The police? Elaine, are you sure we have to..."

"Damn, Malcolm!" She paused, looking at Jimmy suddenly as if she had forgotten that the twelve year old was there, and then gestured for him to join the other boys on the side of the road.

"I'm okay." Jimmy replied, stepping away from her outstretched arm. "I want to help."

"This is not a sight for children to see." She scolded.

"Not to state the obvious, but it's too late for that" Jimmy replied.

It appeared the shock of the past few minutes had taken the fight out of Elaine Winslow, and she shrugged instead, ignoring Jimmy and turning back to Mr. Klopper, who was now getting up from his knees.

"We have to call the police." She said. "It's the right thing to do..."

He nodded slowly. "I know. I'm not sure what I was thinking." He looked along the road in the direction they had come from, and then back towards the front of the bus. The road was deserted in both directions, just the winding tarmac giving off waves of heat as it twisted up the mountainside, lined on one side by the dense forests of the Amatola Mountains. "Do you have a phone?"

Elaine nodded, and then hurried back to the bus, returning after a moment with her cell phone. She dialed the emergency number for her service provider, listened for a moment, and then looked curiously at the phone.

"No signal."

"We should take him to the nearest town." Jimmy said from behind them, and Mr. Klopper turned to look at him, nodding in agreement.

"We will have to."

"You mean... move him?" Elaine exclaimed. "We can't!"

"Well, we can't leave him lying here until he... dies!" Mr. Klopper replied, those final words sticking in his throat for a moment. "We're in the middle of nowhere! We can't phone anyone without signal, and it might be hours before someone comes along!"

Elaine seemed to struggle internally with the choice for a moment, before she finally nodded in agreement and gestured back the way they had come. "Okay. We can head back to Alice."

Alice was a small town in the Eastern Cape, named after Princess Alice, daughter of Queen Victoria of England, a remnant of the English occupation of South Africa in the 1800's. It was really not much more than a main road and a few rundown buildings these days though. However, there were clinics, and doctors.

"It's much closer to Hogsback." Mr. Klopper said. "By half."

This was true, as the group was en route to Hogsback from East London for a summer school camp, and were only about five kilometers from their destination when they had hit the man crossing the road unexpectedly.

"Okay." She said resignedly. "But only to get to a phone! Then we call an ambulance... and the police!"

Mr. Klopper sighed. "Yes. I know."

"James, can you get the boys back on the bus for me?" Miss Winslow asked, and Jimmy nodded, quickly heading over to where they were huddled, peering curiously at the scene in the road.

"We need to get back on the bus." He explained nervously, and surprisingly, there was no hesitation from any of the other boys, as they quickly made their way back to their seats on the bus. Marco Machado paused at the door and grabbed Jimmy by the arm.

"Is the dude dead?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No. We are taking him to Hogsback."

"Holy shit bricks!" the fat boy exclaimed, and then ducked his head into the bus to join the rest of the group, where they immediately crowded to the rear of the bus and watched from the windows.

Jimmy returned to where Miss Winslow and Mr. Klopper were crouched beside the injured man. "What can I do?"

"Grab some of the sleeping bags from the trailer and lay them out on the floor of the bus." Miss Winslow ordered. "As many as you can! Malcolm, you and I are going to have to carry him."

Jimmy ran over to the trailer, and undid the latches. He lifted the lid, hooked it in, and then started throwing sleeping bags out onto the road behind him. Each boy had brought their own sleeping bag, it was on the list of required items, and Jimmy collected four of them, including his own. He tossed them into the open doorway of the bus, showing the other boys how to lay them out in the aisle down the center between the seats, forming a makeshift bed, and then gestured for the two adults to bring the injured man. They lifted him up off the ground, and he groaned softly in pain as they did. They carried him to the bus awkwardly, Mr. Klopper hoisting him up under the arms as he stepped up into it, and Miss Winslow doing her best to keep his legs straight – which was difficult as one of them was broken and hung at an angle strange enough to leave a hollow sensation in Jimmy's stomach. After a few soft protestations from the stranger, they eventually managed to get him in position on the sleeping bags between the seats. He groaned a few times, before blacking out again.

"Let's go." Elaine puffed, and Mr. Klopper slammed the door shut behind Jimmy, as he made his way to his seat, stepping gingerly over the unconscious new passenger, catching a glimpse of Miss Winslow through the window as she grabbed something from the still open trailer before closing it and jumping into the bus' front seat again.

The stranger was bleeding from his arms and legs, as well as a cut on his forehead, and the blood was soaking through his blue and white long sleeve shirt and into the bed of sleeping bags, a dark pool of it gathering under his body. Jimmy did his best to scrunch up the sleeping bags around him, to absorb as much of the blood as he could. Mr. Klopper swung the engine a few times, before it eventually kicked in, and then they were moving again – all thoughts of how many beer bottles were left on the wall completely forgotten now.

"Is he going to die?" one of the boys asked from the back of the bus, and Jimmy peered over to see the concerned face of Zukisa 'Zookie' Nkenke looking questioningly at Miss Winslow.

"No." she smiled, but it was a weak attempt and there was no confidence in her voice. "No, he won't."

She proceeded to climb over the front seat and into the back of the bus, a small blue and white canvas bag in her hands. Jimmy recognized the familiar shield of a snake wrapped around a staff on the bag and realized it was a first-aid kit. She seated herself in a vacant seat near the prone man's head, and then started unpacking the small bag, putting aside bandages, Iodine, gauze and antiseptic spray. As the boys looked on she dressed the cuts on his arms and legs, wrapping the wounds tightly, and trying to slow the loss of blood as best she could. She then moved on to the cut on his forehead, and had to kneel on the floor behind his head to get to it. The man had started groaning again, and was pulling on a canvas belt that crossed his chest. Elaine tried to calm him down, but he was insistent, and eventually dragged the small green canvas bag out from underneath himself, unclipping the belt as he did so. He mumbled something indiscernible, and looked up at Jimmy where he sat only a few feet away, lifting the bag and holding it out towards him, his grimy and dirty hand shaking violently.

Jimmy wasn't sure what to do, as the bag and strap was covered in the man's blood and he wasn't keen on touching it. He shook his head twice, but then briefly caught the man's deeply sunken eyes, and there was a desperation in them that frightened Jimmy. The man shook the bag weakly at Jimmy, and he finally took it from him, holding it to his chest, heart pounding. The man smiled briefly, and then turned his gaze on Miss Winslow, who was leaning over him, Iodine and gauze at the ready. She smiled back and then dabbed his forehead with the Iodine before spraying it with the antiseptic and then covering the wound with the gauze afterwards. The man winced momentarily, then parted his lips and tried to speak.

The words were raspy and inaudible, barely a whisper. Miss Winslow frowned down at the man, unsure as to what he was trying to say. He moved his fingers briefly, gesturing for her to come closer. She did so, leaning in and getting her one ear close to his mouth.

"What is it?" she asked gingerly.

She could barely feel his breath on her ear as he spoke again, but it was warm and carried with it the slightest hint of decay, forcing her to focus on not throwing up from the stench.

"Ummsaar."

She frowned. "What's that?"

"Um. Saarr."

She shook her head in confusion.

He took a deep breath and tried again. "I'm. Saarry." The words were spoken slowly, as someone might do when trying to pronounce something clearly in a foreign language.

She smiled. "You have nothing to be sorry for..."

There wasn't time for the rest of the words to follow, as the stranger suddenly grabbed her head with a force that surprised all of them, pulled her down towards him, sank his yellowed teeth into the soft skin of her throat, and bit down as hard as he could! Elaine Winslow started screaming, a wet and gargled sound as her windpipe was crushed and blood sprayed out in a fountain of red, covering the nearby seats and the boys in them! She dropped the bottle of antiseptic spray she had been holding and it rolled under a nearby seat.

Jimmy physically jumped backwards as some of Miss Winslow's blood splashed onto his face; he banged his head against the window of the bus and gasped in surprise, gagging momentarily. Soon the bus was filled with the screeching of young boys as they watched Miss Winslow's struggles become weaker, until she was no longer moving. Mr. Klopper had looked around in surprise from the driver's seat, trying to see what was going on, but all he could make out was Elaine's blonde hair over the face of the man on the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around her neck.

"What the fuck is going on!" he yelled; fear lacing his words like the vines that wrapped themselves around the trees in the forest that flashed past the windows. The bus had veered off-course during all of the commotion – headed towards the oncoming lane, and he jerked the steering wheel around to bring it back to the left hand side of the road again, but in doing so he overcorrected, and the vehicle swung violently to the right, slamming his head into the doorframe and knocking him out instantly.

Without a driver, the bus veered off to the left again, towards a low barrier which separated the road above from the seemingly endless Amatola Forests far below.

### Chapter 9

Jimmy Hoyer had braced himself on the floor between his seat and the back rest of the seat in front of him in anticipation of what was to come. He was almost at eye level with the strange man on the floor, who was still holding tightly onto Miss Winslow's body, his mouth still against her neck, his face covered in her blood. In the moments that followed, as the bus catapulted over the low barrier, and became momentarily airborne, Jimmy locked eyes with the stranger. They were emotionless, deeply sunken into his skull, and seemed as dark as the night and as fierce as the eyes of a wild beast. He was sucking hard on her throat, drinking and swallowing furiously at the warm red liquid that was her life force. As the bus lifted off the ground and the gravity levels reached zero, the couple in the deadly embrace lifted off the floor, along with several loose items such as cooldrink cans and the first aid kit, as well as one or two of the other boys who were not prepared or holding on. Jimmy followed their path upwards, ignoring the butterfly sensation in his belly from being weightless, gripping the seat legs with all his strength until his arms ached.

The bus landed hard on its wheels again, sending the rising occupants crashing back to the floor. There was a horrific cracking sound as the injured man's broken leg flailed underneath his descending body, trapping itself under the weight of both the stranger and the teacher, and snapping loudly in a different place this time. The windows all shattered at the same time, and Jimmy had to close his eyes against the rain of glass. He could hear the other boys screaming, and crying, and when he opened his eyes again he was thankful that the stranger had closed his own and was no longer staring at him. He was still biting into Miss Winslow's neck though, had not released his grip around her body. The bus bounced wildly down the embankment, the roaring sound of sand and trees and rocks scraping the bottom and sides of it had filled the cabin, attempting to drown out the frightful sound of the boys as they cried out pointlessly in fear.

Miss Winslow's arms flapped around loosely at the side of her body, and Jimmy could tell from the pale expression on her face that she was already dead. The stranger's head slammed repeatedly into the floor as the bus careened down the steep embankment, and the thudding sound it made seemed unreal to Jimmy. He had to wonder how the man was still managing to continue biting and sucking on her neck! It reminded him of the late night vampire movies he would watch when his mom forgot to set the child-lock on the DSTV channels, but this was also nothing like them at all! The vampires in those movies were romantic, and gentle and not at all so violent! They were also not real! He knew that! But staring at this man as he drank the blood of his pretty Sixth Grade teacher on the floor of their crashing bus had him believing otherwise. They were real, alright. And goddamned scary!

After what seemed an eternity of downward careering, the bus must have hit a tree or something, because it came to a sudden stop, lifting the rear into the air and slamming it back down again. The force of it slid the stranger and Miss Winslow out of Jimmy's view along the floor between the seats. There was a loud crashing sound, and more breaking glass, and Jimmy's head was pushed up against the seat in front of him, the extreme force of the stop seeming as if it wanted to push him through that seat! There was a loud thud as the boy in the seat behind Jimmy crashed into the back of it, and the entire seat collapsed forward, knocking Jimmy on the head and pinning his small body against the floor. Jimmy winced in pain as his arm was bent backwards beneath him, trapping it between the floor and his body.

The silence that followed after the commotion of the downhill crash seemed almost alien. Jimmy could hear the metal creaking of the wrecked bus as it settled, the sound of the engine ticking over, the dripping of fluid. There was no movement inside the bus, which was more frightening! He tried to move out from beneath the seat on top of him, but it was an impossible task. Dry red sand and small particles of shrubbery had filled the air in the interior of the bus, and Jimmy tried to cover his mouth with his one free hand as best he could. He peered through a small gap ahead of him, and the dirty pair of Nike sneakers belonging to the stranger was all he could see. They weren't moving. He heard a cough, and then a moan. Soon there were more noises... and now movement!

"Hello!" Jimmy yelled, but the sand particles in the air had filled his throat and it came out in a raspy squeal.

"Jimmy!" The reply came from behind him, and he recognized the slightly tainted accent of the fat boy, Marco.

"I'm here." He replied, pushing against the makeshift walls of his prison but to no avail.

There was the sound of someone clambering towards him, panting heavily, and then a set of fat fingers wrapped around the edge of the seat above him, and started pulling. He felt the seat budge slightly, and assisted by pushing against it with his shoulder and free hand. It came loose suddenly, and he could move!

"Are you okay?" Marco Machado asked, peering down at him through the newly created gap, the one side of his face more swollen than usual and tinged with red bruising.

Jimmy nodded and started getting up from the floor. The arm that had been trapped beneath him was paining badly, and he cradled it gingerly as he stood up and looked around the bus. There were motionless bodies lying everywhere. The front of the bus, where Mr. Klopper had been seated, was empty, and the windscreen was missing. The still embracing bodies of the stranger and Miss Winslow were curled up on the floor between the seats, red streaks of blood covering their clothes and the floor and seats around them. Aside from Marco, three other boys were also stirring in their seats or on the floor between them. Jimmy recognized Zookie Nkenke and Scott Cloete, both boys in his class, while the third boy was Colin... somebody... who was in a different class in their grade. The other three boys in their group were still lying motionless where they had ended up after the accident. There was blood dripping from an unseen wound on one of them, and it made a hypnotic sound on the vinyl floor of the bus, in time with the ticking sound of the stalled engine. The other boy's head was twisted unnaturally, and Jimmy was certain he had broken his neck. The third boy looked as if he was sleeping, but had not yet moved, so Jimmy couldn't be sure if he was still alive or not.

"We have to get out of the bus." Jimmy said painfully, looking at the four boys who were all standing around, dazed and confused. They looked at him curiously for a moment, and had this been the playground at St. Patrick's Boys School back in East London, he would probably have been laughed at for making any type of suggestion to them, but this was far from the playground, and they weren't about to argue with anyone who took leadership right now! Jimmy stepped over the motionless bodies of his teacher and the stranger, using all his will not to look down at the bloody mess of her throat, and tried the sliding door of the bus, but it was jammed shut. In the impact all the windows had shattered, so he clambered instead to the front seats of the bus and then over the dashboard and through the front window. There was no sign of Mr. Klopper anywhere. Following his lead, the rest of the boys traced his route, Marco Machado struggling slightly more than the others to navigate his way through the missing windscreen, and soon they were all standing outside the bus, surrounded by a dense forest of trees and bush, shivering in tandem, despite the warm December weather.

Jimmy looked up in the direction from which the bus had left the road, and for a moment couldn't believe his eyes. The mountainside stretched upwards at a sixty-five degree angle for as far as he could see, rough outcroppings of rocks, and lined with tall trees, dense brush and loose sand. He could just barely make out the path the bus had travelled down the incline and the fact that it had missed several sheer drop offs and thick-trunked trees was a miracle! It was also an impossible climb back up to the road – at least five hundred meters up – a tough climb for a man, let alone five young boys! The bus had eventually come to a stop near the bottom thanks to a medium sized pine tree, which had cracked in half from the impact and probably saved the rest of their lives, as a few meters beyond that tree was a house-sized boulder, harder than concrete, hidden in the shadowy depths of the forest floor. If the bus had collided with that instead! Jimmy shuddered at the thought!

The mountainside behind the bus stretched for kilometers in each direction to the left and right, with no sign of an easy path upwards. In the opposite direction, the one in which the bus was facing, the dark and foreboding forests of the Amatola loomed over the small group, a myriad of bush, trees and boulders, stretching further than the eye could see. It was Jimmy's first visit to this place, the camp they were headed for was somewhere past this forest, beyond the terrifying immensity of it, so he had no idea where he was, or how to get to where they needed to go. Going back up to the road was out of the question... if one of the boys fell trying they would be dead! Enough people had died today, he thought.

"What do we do now?" Zookie asked, and the question seemed to hang in the fresh mountain air for the longest time, heavy with anticipation and uncertainty.

### Chapter 10

It was probably Jimmy's heightened imagination and love of adventure that got things moving. He had always been a fan of reality shows, from as young as six, and one of his favorites was Survivor. The thrill of being left on a deserted island with minimal equipment and food, and having to fend for yourself while at the same time maintaining a group dynamic, had been the theme of many of his short story writings. It was ironic then, that he now found himself exactly in such a situation! Five boys, trapped in a forest, unprepared for it, unsupervised and confused. He grabbed the thrill of it with both hands.

"We have to shout for help." He said sternly. "As loud as we can!"

They looked at him in confusion for a few moments, and Jimmy had to cup his hands over his mouth and start yelling at the top of his lungs before they all joined in, looking upwards towards the unseen road at the top of the mountainside. The sound of five young boys screaming at the rocks echoed through the deep valley, an eerie and lonely sound. After several minutes, by which time the boys were either hoarse or breathless, they eventually gave up. The deserted roadside was too high above them, and they would not be heard! What frightened Jimmy even more was the realization that they would also not be seen easily through the tops of the dense undergrowth around them! They were going to be here until somebody came looking for them! There was no way around it!

He conveyed this thought to the rest of the boys, and then got them to collect every item from the bus they could find that might become useful later. The trailer had detached itself halfway down the incline, and had spilled open, spewing its contents of sleeping bags, rucksacks, snacks and personal belongings all the way down the mountainside, with the trailer finally coming to rest upside down about one hundred meters from the bus, wedged between the outcrops of rocks. The items from the trailer that were scattered along the mountainside that they could reach, as well as those they could squeeze out from the upturned trailer which was impossible to shift, were added to the collection from the bus, and Jimmy stood over these things and made a quick inventory checklist in his head.

There were two sleeping bags still neatly rolled up, three pillows, a single bed duvet, four as yet unopened rucksacks, two cell phones – one of which had a cracked screen, eleven bottles of fruit juice, six cans of Coca Cola, four wrapped sandwiches and the balance of the first aid kit. There was also a wheel spanner, half empty bottle of brake fluid, and some oily rags from the rear of the bus, as well as an almost full pack of Stuyvesant Red cigarettes, and a Bic cigarette lighter, which must have belonged to Mr. Klopper, that Colin had found in the cubby hole up front.

Before doing anything else, Jimmy reached for the cellphone that wasn't broken and held it up. There was a tiny 'x' across the picture of the signal tower on the screen, which meant there was no service down here in the valley. He waved it around above him, trying to find a signal, but the extra 2 feet made no difference. The battery level was also about one third. He switched the phone off, to the protestations of the others.

"Relax." He said. "We need to preserve the battery. There is no signal here. We'll try it from a higher spot later."

He had them empty out the four rucksacks. Marco was delighted to find that one of them was his own rucksack, and he happily pulled out sweaters and clothes which were his size. Both Jimmy and Colin's rucksacks were missing, but Zookie and Scott were fortunate enough to find their own as well. The fourth rucksack belonged to one of the other boys on the bus who had not made it, and they had left it unopened after emptying their own – almost afraid to touch it as it now belonged to a dead kid. Jimmy eventually sat down beside it and started unpacking the contents. Aside from clothes, there were four Tex chocolate bars. He added them to the heap of items they had already collected, also delighted to find a small pocket knife which would come in handy later, he was sure, and then leant back on his elbows, looking up at the other boys.

"The most important thing is food and water." He said, and they all sat down around him to listen to what he had to say, as if he were an expert in the art of survival and had done this many times before! Jimmy felt a strange sense of pride at the way they were looking up to him, even though he was neither the oldest or largest member of the group. "After that is warmth."

They all nodded in agreement.

"We can make a fire with the lighter!" Scott beamed. "And there is plenty of wood around."

"And we can share out the clothes between all of us... make sure we all have enough to keep warm tonight." Zookie added.

"Um..."

They all turned to look at Marco, who had raised his hand. "You mean we're going to be sleeping here tonight? Here? With the..." he pointed at the bus a few meters away. "You know..." he trailed off.

"The bodies?" Jimmy asked. "They're dead, so they aren't going anywhere."

"What about ghosts?" Marco asked, his eyes wide with fear.

The other boys laughed. "There's no such thing as ghosts, idiot!"

Marco shook his head in protest. "My gran told me that when somebody dies unexpectedly, and has not yet been buried, their spirit will stay with their body. I'm not sleeping near the bus, that's all I know!"

"Okay, calm down." Jimmy smiled. "We would have to set up a camp under those trees anyway, for protection from the cold." He pointed at the nearest group of trees to the left. "Would that be okay?"

Marco frowned in the direction of the trees, and then looked back at the bus, probably calculating the distance in his mind. After a few moments he nodded. "Okay."

"Right!" Jimmy continued. "So we have clothes, and we can open the sleeping bags and share them, plus we have wood and we have fire. Now for food..."

He quickly sorted the foodstuff and snacks from the rest of the items, packing them to one side. "If we share these out equally, we each have three drinks, one-and-a-half sandwiches and a chocolate bar."

"That should be fine." Colin said. "It's only for tonight, right? Then someone will come looking for us tomorrow?"

Jimmy nodded. "Most probably. I'm sure they're expecting us up at Hobbiton-on-Hogsback. By tomorrow they will start phoning around which is why we can't move too far away from the bus."

There was a murmur of agreement at the logic of Jimmy's statement.

"Okay, then lets share out the clothes and the food." Zookie said, and they proceeded to do just that. By the time they were done, each boy had a bag of clothing and a food parcel. Marko was the first to point out that there was one chocolate bar short, and Jimmy shrugged it away.

"I'm fine, really."

The only items that were left in the pile was the first aid kit, lighter, cigarettes, wheel spanner, rags and brake fluid, the pocket knife and the four sleeping bags. Jimmy put the cigarettes, lighter and pocket knife in his pocket, and then instructed the boys to move the rest of the items to the nearby trees where they were going to set up camp, and he then sent Colin and Zookie off to find dry pieces of wood, warning them not to wander off too far from the camp. He, Scott and Marco then proceeded to lay out the sleeping bags into makeshift beds, around a one foot deep hole they dug with the wheel spanner for the fire place. By the time they were done, Colin and Zookie had returned with two armfuls of twigs and dry branches.

Jimmy took a step back and surveyed the makeshift camp. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, and he thought Jeff Probst might be quite impressed had he been there to see it himself. He glanced up at the sky through a gap in the trees; it was deep blue and mostly clear of any clouds, bar a few wispy ones. It was mid-December, and the peak of summer in South Africa. It would be a cool yet dry night by all accounts. He was thankful for that, as things could have been much different had it been raining!

"We will light the fire at around five pm." He said, turning back to his makeshift tribe. "That's about two hours from now. Let's all collect more wood... we don't want to run out of stock and have to head into the forest at night!"

The boys headed off together into the nearby woods, staying within sight of each other, as they filled their arms with loads of dead and dry wood, which was scattered all over the forest floor. It wasn't long before they were back at their camp, a stockpile of firewood standing almost as tall as they were. A couple of the boys flopped down onto the makeshift beds, staring up at the trees. Jimmy himself felt exhausted – not from the physical efforts of collecting firewood, but just in general – the shock of the stranger, accident and death of his classmates and teacher finally catching up with him. He stared at the crumpled bus for a long moment, trying not to envision the bodies in there. He finally sat down next to Marco, his arms resting on his knees, a distant look in his eyes.

"What you thinking?" Marco asked from beside him.

Jimmy shrugged. "Nothing."

What he really wanted to say was that he was wondering where Mr. Klopper had ended up... somewhere on that impossible to climb mountain behind the bus, he guessed. Was he still alive? Bleeding? Frightened?

It was a sad thing to focus on, so Jimmy tried to clear the thought from his mind, but as idyllic as the makeshift camp seemed, in the warm December weather, the events that had brought them here seemed as cold as the Amatola Mountains could get during winter snowfalls!

### Chapter 11

The next two hours seemed to breeze by. Jimmy spent the time observing the behavior of the other boys, as they chased each other around through the nearby trees between the denser forest and the mountainside, playing games as if they were oblivious to the situation they had found themselves in. He found himself turning his attention to the canvas bag that the stranger had given him in the bus, it had been around his shoulder the entire time, and he had not yet had the chance to look inside. With his back against a nearby pine tree, he unclasped it and removed the object it protected. It was a camera. Not one of these new-age digital cameras, like the one he had at home, but an older type, without the fancy screen or digital buttons. He held the eyepiece up to his eye and watched the other boys playing catch with a large pine cone through it. It was high summer, and although the sun only officially set at around six-thirty, this time was shortened for them due to the impressive shadow cast over where they were by the Amatola Mountains in front of them.

Jimmy tucked the camera back into its carry case, and then hooked it over his shoulder again. The stranger had seemed very concerned about it, and for some reason Jimmy felt there had to be a reason why he had entrusted it to him and nobody else. The least he could do was keep it safe in the meantime, despite the fact that the man had tried to eat Miss Winslow alive!

It was barely five pm when the warmth in the air started disappearing and the light started fading. The energy and care-free attitude of the group started fading with the sunlight, and they had soon settled down near where Jimmy was seated, a silence descending over the group as they waited for...

Jimmy wasn't sure what it was they were waiting for exactly. Direction? Guidance? All he knew for certain was that the answers had to come from him alone.

"Can we light the fire?" Marko asked, peering suspiciously in the direction of the silent bus where it rested up against the tree and mountainside. A slight breeze had started blowing, and it whistled through the trees around them, an eerie, ghostly sound.

Jimmy nodded, standing up and heading over to the hole they had dug in the center of their 'camp'. He broke off a few small twigs from the wood they had collected earlier, and scrunched together some dry wispy grass in his hand. He built a teepee shaped structure around the grass with the twigs, and then poured a few drops of the brake fluid onto it. The lighter lit the first time, its orange flame bright in the rapidly dimming light.

His starter fire took flame immediately, and the boys cheered in unison. Jimmy gestured for more wood, and they passed him dry branches which he added to the small fire, slowly growing it to a point where they could all feel the gentle heat even from a short distance. The dancing flames cast a flickering orange glow across their makeshift campsite, highlighting their smiling faces against a backdrop of now almost complete darkness in the trees around them. Once the fire was burning brightly, Jimmy stepped back and sat down on a nearby log. He unwrapped one of his three sandwich slices, and bit into it gingerly, savoring the peanut butter and jelly flavor. The other boys followed his lead and soon they were all seated in a circle around the fire, munching away, looking at each other in silence.

"Why did that man bite Miss Winslow?"

The question hung in the air like a bad smell, and for the longest moment it threatened to go unanswered. Jimmy swallowed the last bit of his sandwich and washed it down with some Coke. He looked over at Zookie, whose dark skin made him almost invisible against the darkness behind him, only his eyes and the flash of white teeth occasionally visible.

"He was sick." Jimmy replied. "That's all."

"I think he was a vampire." Marko added. He said the word softly, as if it would summon a legion of blood-sucking vermin from out of the forests. "You know, not like the sissy Twilight vamps... more like the Dracula ones."

"No way!" Scotty exclaimed. "You think?"

"He wasn't a vampire." Jimmy said, and this seemed to spark a burst of back and forth conversation around the subject, which was more pleasant than the silence and the wind.

"How do you know?"

"Because vampires don't exist, dumbass!"

"Says who?"

"They must exist, right? Why else would there always be stories and books and movies about them?"

"It's for Hollywood."

"My uncle caught a vampire bat once."

"Bullshit!"

"It's true! Thing had fangs as long as my fingers!"

"That guy never had fangs."

There was a pause as the boys considered this logical statement for a moment.

"Well then he must have been a cannibal."

"What's a cannibal?"

"A person that eats other people - for food."

"Are they real?"

"You can bet your Playstation they are!"

"Either way, he wasn't normal."

"Guys!" Jimmy interrupted the conversation. "It doesn't matter what he was. He's dead. And so is Miss Winslow and Mr. Klopper too."

"And David."

"Michael and Omar too."

"That's right." Jimmy frowned. "A lot of people are dead. But we are still alive! Talking about dead people and monsters isn't going to get us through tonight. We need to focus on that. The sooner we can fall asleep, the sooner we wake up, and the sooner we get rescued."

Colin nodded in agreement. "I'm not going to Hobbiton when they rescue us. I want to go home."

There was a murmur of confirmation from the rest of the boys. "Yeah, screw that."

A few of them giggled at the cursing, and the giggling soon became laughing, and soon they were all rolling around holding their stomachs, tears streaming from their eyes.

It was good to hear laughter. Jimmy closed his eyes and soaked it in. Laughter meant that things were going to be okay. Laughter meant that they were still alive.

"Let's get some sleep." He smiled eventually.

They chose their spots around the fire, wrapping themselves up into the opened sleeping bags in pairs, leaving the duvet to Jimmy. It was no foam mattress, but the grass covered ground was bearable as a makeshift bed. The fire had warmed the air around them, and it was hardly uncomfortable at all.

Jimmy lay staring up at the darkening sky for a long time. He watched as the pale orange glow of the sun setting somewhere behind the mountains slowly became a pale blue, and then a darker grey and finally an intense black, speckled with the faint glow of distant stars. The shuffling of the boys had subsided, and soon he was staring at the star-filled sky, listening to the sad sound of the wind and the distant stirrings of the forest as it came to life. He was finding it difficult to fall asleep, despite the advice he had given the others. He felt strangely responsible for his group of young friends, as if their well-being had been handed to him by some unknown higher power, despite the fact that he had not asked for it. It seemed unfair in a way, that he would be the one chosen to guide them through this ordeal, for he was suffering the same fate under the same conditions that they were. Where was his protector?

For a moment his thoughts drifted to his mother. If she were here now things would be fine. She was so strong - the strongest person that he knew! Not arm-wrestling strong, but heart-strong! He couldn't help but let out a quiet gulp as a tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a bright sparkling trail in its wake, reflected in the firelight. He had climbed on that bus without saying goodbye to her. Yes, he had been mad that he had to come on this stupid school holiday camp in the first place, and yes he would rather have stayed at home keeping himself busy, but she had not deserved a silent departure. Even a hug would have been okay! What if he never saw her again? What if he never got the chance to apologize to her! What if...

Jimmy rolled over and shoved his head under the duvet; a lump was in his throat that was physically hurting him! He knew now that he was here to protect these boys as punishment, so that he could feel what it felt like for his mother all these years, without a husband, trying to raise an emotionally scarred young boy. This was nothing right now; this forest at night. It was nothing compared to what she had to deal with on a daily basis.

"I love you, Mom." He whispered from beneath the covers, softly enough that he could hear his own words, but not loud enough for any of the others to hear. As he drifted off to sleep he hoped that she would also hear them somewhere beyond these mountains and towards the distant sea.

### Chapter 12

"Jimmy! Jimmy!"

The words were being whispered into his ear, a sense of urgency to them. For a moment he was confused about where he was, the hard ground felt unnatural beneath his body - pressing into his hips, the soft touch of a cool breeze on his cheek which had found a pathway down his neck and into the back of his shirt felt different to the air from the ceiling fan in his bedroom. He opened his eyes wearily, surprised to see the stars above him. A face came into view, eyes wide and filled with fear.

"Jimmy! Wake up!"

"What is it?" Jimmy asked, forcing himself up into a sitting position and frowning at Marko. The surroundings in the pale moonlight; the creepy shapes of trees in the darkness, the dying embers of a fire - brought the memories of the day back to him in an instant.

"I heard a noise." Marko whispered.

"What noise? And what time is it?"

"I think it's the vampire!"

"You're crazy." Jimmy shook his head, attempting to lie back down again, but Marko was insistent and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"I'm serious!" he whispered again. "Listen!"

Jimmy listened. There was only the sound of the soft breeze through the trees, a pop of a burning ember from the cooling fire and somewhere in the distance an owl hooted.

"There's nothing to hear. Put some more wood on the fire, Marko. We're going to freeze our nuts off."

"I swear I heard..."

Jimmy heard it then; a moaning sound, low and creepy-like. It seemed to be coming from all around them, barely audible but definitely there!

"What is that?"

"I told you!" Marko hissed. "Vampires!"

"It's not frikking vampires!"

Jimmy looked over at the where the other boys were still lying curled up in their sleeping bags, fast asleep and oblivious to the strange noise. The moaning sound came again, this time it was clearer and had more purpose to it. Jimmy wasn't going to lie. It scared the crap out of him! He had visions of a hairy beast, red eyes and glistening white fangs! Marko had edged closer to Jimmy now, pressing up against him in his fear, and Jimmy found the irony in the big boy huddling up against the smallest guy in the group - as if that would help!

"What do we do?"

Jimmy scanned the nearby trees, trying to discern any shadowed shape that was out of place in the forest, perhaps a wild animal or a person or a...

There are no such things as vampires!

... well anything really. But there was nothing to see except the silhouettes of tall pine trees, the outlines of boulders and bushes. He glanced over at where the bus rested, just a dim white smudge in the darkness, but nothing seemed to be moving in that direction either.

Uhrmmmm...

The sound didn't seem to be coming from any one direction at all; it seemed to be all around them! Jimmy's heart raced furiously, and he found himself squeezing closer to Marko as well. He was genuinely afraid! The fact that a man had eaten his teacher earlier in the day wasn't exactly helping in rationalizing his fears either!

Crack!

There was a new sound this time, and it startled them both with its clarity and volume, sending a slight echo through the valley around them, bouncing off the walls of the mountainside that had trapped them.

"I want to go home!" Marko whispered, and Jimmy found himself nodding in agreement. It was a great idea. If only.

"Should we wake the oth..."

The moaning sound again, and then rustling - leaves or branches it seemed. It was coming closer, Jimmy was certain! Creeping up on them in the darkness! The boys were both looking around fearfully, fists clenched against their chests, shivering not from the cool breeze but from ice cold fear.

Urhmmmm... Crack!

"I'm going to pee my pants." Marko said, as if he was stating an inevitable action, and not just surmising what might possibly happen.

"It's probably just some wild buck." Jimmy said, but there was a falsetto to his voice that gave away his lie immediately.

"Buck's don't groan." Marko said softly, but then added. "Do they?"

"Maybe it's a sick buck. I don't know." Jimmy shrugged.

"What if the dude in the bus isn't dead?"

"I don't think it's coming from that side." Jimmy said, gesturing towards the forest to their left instead. "If anything, it's coming from there..."

"I knew this holiday camp was a bad idea!"

Jimmy couldn't help but agree with that statement, as he had felt that way from before he had even climbed on that damned bus this morning! It was a case of "I told you so" and "believe me next time" but all of that seemed irrelevant right now, as whatever was hiding in the forest and hunting them was only too happy that it had found its next meal, regardless of how the meal had come to be there in the first place!

There was another loud cracking sound and the groan again. But this time it sounded different - hungrier!

Jimmy stared at the dark forest around them, certain that the sound was coming from somewhere in there now, waiting for something to leap out at them, growling and hungry. He slipped the pocket knife out of his pocket, flicking the blade open and holding it out in front of him. The half moon cast enough light to see the difference between light and dark, but not for much more than that. For all he knew the beast could be sitting in the darkness at the base of those trees staring back at them and baring its fangs!

There were two more cracking sounds, loud and horrible, like the snapping of bones, and then a throaty grunt, followed by a cacophony of breaking branches, scraping leaves and incessant moaning, the as yet unseen enemy seemingly rushing towards them through the forest at breakneck speed! Marko screamed. A high pitched almost girl-like screeching that rang through the night.

"Run!" Jimmy yelled, trying to get to his feet and almost falling backwards as he stared at the point in the dark forest where he thought the sound was coming from, knife at the ready, and waiting for that creature to show itself and eat them!

The other boys were stirring now, wondering about the commotion that was going on. Jimmy's legs didn't seem to want to work and he was struggling to stand up. He had half climbed to his feet and was ready to run, the screaming Marko at his side, when the large and heavy beast suddenly landed on top of them from nowhere and crushed him painfully to the ground, spilling the pocket knife out of his hands. He grunted in pain, closed his eyes and waited for the biting to begin, too winded to scream but also too afraid not to try anyway.

### Chapter 13

He could hear the muffled shouts and crying from his position under the attacking monster, and he was trying to fight back, but the beast was too heavy and was crushing him to the ground! A warm sticky sensation had covered his face and neck, and Jimmy knew without a doubt that it was blood! He could smell it, and it stank the way the bus had after the stranger bit into Miss Winslow's neck. Marko had been half under the beast when it landed on them as well, but he had managed to kick himself free and now Jimmy found himself alone with the creature. The shouting was continuing from somewhere above him, and he could almost imagine what the scene must look like from their angle - the boys scattering in fear at the sight of the monster as it devoured one of their own.

To Jimmy's surprise, though, he felt the beast shudder as it was attacked from the side, and now the shouts he was hearing were not filled with fear anymore, but with anger! They were fighting back! Trying to save him! A lump formed in his throat at their bravery, and he found it truly heartwarming that they would try to defend him this way! As they were slamming into the beast from above, Jimmy managed to get some leverage under his body by forcing himself onto his knees, and he pushed upwards with all his might. The beast seemed to leap off him suddenly, as it was pummeled once more by the other boys, and suddenly Jimmy was free, able to breathe in the fresh air again! The first thing he felt was the arms of two of the others as they grabbed him from behind and pulled him away from the fallen beast, backwards towards the dying fireplace. They collapsed into a heap on the makeshift beds, panting heavily, smeared in blood and sweat.

Jimmy immediately felt at his neck, expecting to find a gaping hole where his throat had been, but it seemed to be in one piece. As he inspected himself hurriedly he soon realized that, aside from being winded, he wasn't injured at all, and that the bright red blood that had covered his upper body and now his hands was in fact not even his own. He glanced to the side, where Marko was kneeling on all fours, staring wide-eyed at the shape of the beast on the ground in the darkness away from the fire, and he too seemed uninjured. So where had the blood come from?

The shouting and screaming had stopped once Jimmy had been freed, and now all five boys stared silently at the shadowed figure of the beast where it lay curled up, hidden slightly from view by the knee high undergrowth. There was only the sound of the eerie wind through the trees now, and every now and then a soft moaning sound from the creature.

Urmmmm...

It wasn't as scary a sound as it had been before; it seemed to be more subdued and tired than anything else.

"What is it?" Jimmy panted, but there was no response from the others.

"It came from above." Scott eventually replied, pointing upwards. "From the trees."

Jimmy looked up at into the tall heights of the pine trees nearest to them, wondering if there were more of these creatures hiding in there somewhere. He felt around near the fireplace and picked up a long and thick piece of firewood, holding it out in front of him like a makeshift spear. He leaned forward onto all fours and slowly approached the moaning animal.

"Jimmy, no!" Marko protested in a harsh whisper, but Jimmy waved him aside.

As Jimmy approached the shadowy figure he noticed that his heart was beating twice as fast as it normally would, and that it was pounding at his ribcage as if trying to escape from there. He could still smell the blood all over him, and the stickiness of it was making him gag, but it also told him that the beast was injured and would not be as dangerous as it would otherwise have been. When he was a few feet from it, he poked it gently with the branch. It did not move, and he poked it a second time, much harder. It groaned again, that creepy damn sound, but still did not attempt to move at all. Jimmy looked back at the other boys and gestured for one of them to pass him a burning piece of wood, so that he could see the beast more clearly. Colin quickly got a branch burning on the fire and handed it to Jimmy. As Jimmy held it forward towards the beast, slowly bringing it out of the darkness and into the light, as the mysterious shape became more recognizable, the sensation of fear in his belly only deepened. By the time it was fully visible in the glow of the makeshift torch, Jimmy was finding it hard to catch his breath.

The beast moved now, turning to face Jimmy, curious about the light. In the orange glow of the small flame a broken, yet familiar face stared back at him.

Mr. Klopper!

Jimmy was too shocked to even speak. The driver of the bus was covered in blood from cuts on his face and naked arms. A branch the thickness of Jimmy's wrist had pierced Mr. Klopper's neck, skewering him right through, jagged blood covered ends on either side. It was the reason the man could not speak, only groan unrecognizable words. Jimmy looked upwards again at the branches of the nearest tree that extended up into the sky. How long had he been trapped up there? The thought made him shiver. He must have been thrown from the bus when it crashed down the mountainside and hit the tree. By some freak miracle he had landed in the nearest tree, skewered through the neck. The weight of his body must have eventually broken the branches that supported him and caused him to fall down onto the sleeping boys below!

Even in the firelight Mr. Klopper's face was a deathly white colour. His eyes were rolled back in his head, and he was breathing with difficulty - partly due to the obstruction in his throat, but also because he had most likely broken a few ribs in the accident and subsequent fall. Jimmy tossed the makeshift torch aside and turned to the rest of the boys.

"Help me. We need to get him closer to the fire."

"What is it?" Marko was asking, and as he reached Jimmy's side and saw the broken figure of Mr. Klopper he gasped and placed his hand over his mouth.

"Holy shit balls!"

The other boys had also approached and were now all standing over Jimmy and the bus driver, muttering and whispering between them.

"Guys!" Jimmy said sternly. "Help me!"

They followed Jimmy's lead and grabbed Mr. Klopper under the arms, and then dragged him backwards out of the undergrowth and towards the fire. He moaned at every movement, and there was no doubt in Jimmy's mind that the man was in serious pain. They eventually got him positioned on the nearest sleeping bag, close to the warmth of the small fire. Colin added more wood to it, and it flared up briefly, sending a heat wave of additional warmth towards them. In the light of the fire Mr. Klopper's injuries became more apparent. Aside from the cuts on his face and arms from the windscreen, and the branch through his neck, his head was also swollen and his face a dark shade of purple. The man had obviously taken a hard knock to the head, hard enough to concuss and possibly cause internal bleeding. This would explain the swelling.

Jimmy lifted the end of the sleeping bag up and placed it over the figure of the bus driver. He was no doctor, but he knew that Mr. Klopper's injuries were serious, and that he might not make it through the night in his current condition. He knew that the first thing they had to do was remove the branch that was obstructing both his airway and vocal passage. This would require some bravery, and Jimmy wasn't sure if he was capable of that right now, but looking down at the dying man, he realized there was never going to be anyone else who would step in and take over. Not out here where nobody even knew where they were.

Jimmy looked over at Scott and Zookie. "I need the antiseptic spray."

"Where is it?" Scott asked, starting to head for the First Aid kit between the collected items under the tree, but Jimmy stopped him.

"It's not in there." He said.

"Then where?" Scott asked, confused.

Jimmy pointed over towards the dim shape of the crumpled bus on the hillside a few meters away, the bus that was now just a cold metal coffin holding five bodies.

"It's in there." He whispered.

### Chapter 14

Scott's face paled immediately at the mention of the bus. Jimmy could see the fear pouring off of him like a dark red aura. The bus was a no-go area for any of them. They had witnessed terrible things happening in there, and nobody wanted to go near it, especially in the dark! When no one stuck up their hand to volunteer for the mission, Jimmy shook his head and stood up.

"I'll go." He muttered, heading off towards the bus.

"Wait!" Zookie stopped him in his tracks. "It's okay. I'll do it."

"And me." Colin added, positioning himself next to Zookie. "You've done enough today already, Jimmy."

Jimmy nodded, and he was strangely proud of the boys for stepping forward. "Thanks guys. Make another torch from the fire - for light to see."

They smiled weakly, Colin wrapped a piece of cloth torn from one of his t-shirts around the end of a branch, doused it in brake fluid and then held it over the fire until it had taken flame. He nodded at Zookie and then they headed for the bus, shoulder to shoulder.

"I need something to grab the branch with." Jimmy spoke to Marko and Scott who remained behind. "It's full of blood and I need to get some grip on it."

"I have a pair of gloves in my bag. Will that work?" Scott asked, and Jimmy nodded in agreement.

"That should work. And bring me one of my bottles of water."

The boys grabbed the required items and returned with them to Jimmy's side. They watched from a distance as Zookie and Colin approached the bus, backlit by the flame of the makeshift torch. The doors were jammed shut, so they had to enter it they same way they had left it this afternoon - through the missing windscreen. Colin climbed in first, while Zookie held the torch, before passing it on to Colin and then following suit. Soon they were only dark silhouettes inside the vehicle and the boys outside could just make them out, moving things around inside there as they searched for the missing bottle of antiseptic spray that Miss Winslow had dropped after using it on the stranger earlier.

It must have been early morning hours, because the sky had started lightening to the east, a dark grey merging with the complete darkness of the night sky. It had also become much cooler than the rest of the night had been, and Jimmy shivered, rubbing his bare arms with his hands to keep them warm. The forest seemed to be coming alive as well, somehow attuned to the rising sun. They could hear a few birds whistling high up in the trees, and there was the familiar hoot of an owl as well. Soon it would be daylight, and daylight could mean rescue! It had been a long night, and Jimmy was not looking forward to any more nights spent in this valley. In fact, he wished never to see this place in his life again, if he could help it!

"Found it!" Colin's voice came from the bus, muffled but audible. Scott and Marko cheered and clapped their hands. There was a shuffling sound as the boys made their way back through the bus towards the front again, and then a pause, before one of them screamed - an absolutely terrifying sound!

"Help!" Zookie was shouting, and the bus was swaying from side to side as the boys inside jostled around, apparently fighting or trying to flee from something.

"Get it off!" Colin was also screaming now, and this spurred Jimmy into action. He leapt up from his seat beside Mr. Klopper, picked up the fallen pocket knife, and then raced across the open meadow towards the bus. His initial thoughts were that the stranger must still be alive, and perhaps it had attacked one of the boys! He realized as he raced towards the bus that he had very little to defend himself with - just a small pocket knife and his bare fists - and that quite possibly he was going to be facing a much stronger opponent in the man that had killed Miss Winslow, but the adrenaline had taken over now and he was not about to stop for anything! Those were his friends in there! The term sounded weird in his head. Had he ever had real friends before?

He dived through the opening where the windscreen had been, landing hard on the front seat of the bus, grunting in pain as his sensitive arm pressed against the backrest. He scrambled quickly to his feet and then leapt over the seat and into the passenger area, almost landing on the bodies of the stranger and Miss Winslow, where they were still trapped in their weird lover's embrace. The floor of the bus was slippery with blood, and Jimmy's foot immediately slid out from under him, forcing him to land hard on his other knee. The pain of the impact shot up through his body, and he cried out. As he stood up he could see both Zookie and Colin huddled together at the rear of the bus, hugging each other tightly in fear.

"What happened?" Jimmy asked, panting for breath and looking around wildly to see which of the five bodies has mysteriously grabbed the boys, knife held at the ready. Everything still seemed normal - the two adults on the floor, the other three boys still in their seats where they had been after the accident.

Zookie pointed to the floor behind Jimmy, at the stranger and Miss Winslow. "He grabbed my leg."

Jimmy turned around to see, but both bodies were completely still. "Are you sure?"

Zookie nodded, and Colin agreed instantly. "It's true, Jimmy! He grabbed Zookie's leg and I had to pull him away!"

"We found the antiseptic." Zookie added proudly, holding the small bottle up for Jimmy to see.

"Okay." Jimmy said. "That's great. Hand me the torch!"

Colin passed it onto Jimmy, who then held the burning branch out in front of him, lighting up the two bodies on the floor of the bus. Miss Winslow was still lying on top of the stranger. The forced stop of the bus had propelled her downwards towards the stranger's feet, so they were now laying head to toe. This had also caused her throat to be ripped out in the process, and arterial spray from her carotid artery had resulted in her bleeding out all over the floor, the blood pooling thick and dark at the head of the bus. Pieces of her throat were still visible in the stranger's mouth, hanging from it like a grotesquely misshapen tongue. Jimmy couldn't help but notice that Miss Winslow's legs were spread-eagled over the stranger's chest, and he could see the shape of her lady parts through her tights. He blushed and looked away hurriedly.

Neither of the two seemed to be alive. He knelt down next to the stranger and held the torch over his face. His face was pale and his eyes were closed, nostrils and mouth not moving, chest not rising and falling the way someone who was breathing's chest would do. A flicker of light from the flame caught the stranger's eyes briefly, and Jimmy frowned. There was something unusual about them... at first he had thought they were closed, but now as he looked more closely he could see that they were in fact still open, but that a covering of some sort had made them appear to be closed instead! The covering was almost skin-like, but not as smooth as skin would be. It was almost crusty in appearance. This second "skin" had extended from his mouth and was stretching over his facial features, around the edges of his nose, over his brow and down to his chin and even neck.

Jimmy had never seen a body decompose before, but he had watched enough CSI episodes on television to know that bodies usually rotted or bloated, and did not dry up in this way. It was as if the fluids from the stranger's body had been sucked out, and his skin was becoming hard and cracked - the way a riverbed or saltpan often looked when the water had dried up. Jimmy moved the torch upwards, over the stranger's head and he noticed the crustiness had extended into the stranger's hairline as well, creating bald patches on his skull, and leaving tufts of hair behind on the floor beneath him. Just at the point where the stranger's skull met the metal floor, there was a strange bump that had formed. At first it looked as if it might have been a piece of his skull which had cracked on impacting with the floor during the accident, but as Jimmy peered closer he could see that it was just the crusty skin that had layered itself at this point, causing an obtrusion out of the top of the strangers head... almost like an aerial!

The stalk protruded from the stranger's skull by about three centimeters, but even as Jimmy was watching it seemed to be growing! He could even hear the dry chafing of skin as new layers were being added to the "stalk". It was as if there was some part of the dead man's skin that was still alive... and growing rapidly!

### Chapter 15

Zookie and Colin had moved closer to Jimmy now, and were staring over his shoulder at the stranger.

"What's wrong with his eyes?" Colin asked in a whisper, and Jimmy shrugged in reply.

"I'm not sure. It looks like a layer of dry skin or something."

"That's gross!" Zookie said. "Is he alive?"

Jimmy shook his head. "No. He isn't breathing anymore."

"Then what grabbed my foot?"

Jimmy held the torch, which had started losing some flame by now, over the area next to the bodies of the stranger and Miss Winslow. In the soft light it cast he could see Miss Winslow's left leg had become wedged under the nearest seat, forming an obstruction across the walkway back to the front of the bus.

"Could you have jammed your foot under there in the darkness?" he asked, and by the sheepish look on Zookie's face he could tell that had probably been what had happened.

"I don't know..." Zookie muttered. "Maybe..."

Colin slapped Zookie on the back of the head with his open hand. "You idiot! You scared the crap out of me!"

"Well I'm sorry!" Zookie moaned. "But this bus freaks me out, man!"

"Relax guys." Jimmy said. "It's okay. Let's get the hell out of..."

His words trailed off as the chafing noise from the "skin" of the stranger suddenly increased in volume, almost making him take a step backwards in surprise.

"What's that on his head?" Colin asked, leaning in over Jimmy's shoulder to get a closer look. "Is that a finger growing out of his skull?"

"Holy crap!" Zookie exclaimed. "That's awesome."

"It's not awesome, dickhead. It's disgusting!"

"Guys!" Jimmy held up his hand. "Keep quiet and listen!"

The sound reminded Jimmy of the sound you get when rubbing two pieces of paper together. As they watched, the finger-like stalk was growing steadily in length, and had reached about five centimeters long already. It was changing at the top now, bulging out and forming a small round ball-shape, which was expanding quickly.

"This is the freakiest..." Colin started saying, but Jimmy shushed him quickly.

Within a few seconds the ball at the top of the stalk had expanded to the size of a golf ball, and then it seemed to stop growing completely, even the scratchy sound had disappeared.

Zookie chuckled. "He looks like a Teletubby?"

This had Zookie giggling, and even Jimmy smiled at the reference. In some weird way it almost did look like the stranger had become a human version of Po or Lala or whoever from the children's show!

"Let's get out of here." Jimmy said eventually, after a good thirty seconds had passed without any further growth or sound occurring. "Mr. Klopper needs our help."

He stood up and stepped over Miss Winslow's protruding leg, and was about to clamber over the front seats to get to the makeshift doorway which the missing windscreen had become, when there was a loud popping sound from behind him. He turned quickly, holding the torch up for light, and immediately noticed the air was filled with thousands of tiny particles, surrounding Zookie and Colin in an almost dreamlike image.

"What was that?" Jimmy asked, but even as the words left his mouth he saw that the golf-ball shaped bulb on the top of the stalk that had grown out of the stranger's head had burst open, and the tiny particles now floating in the air had been released from it! He went ice-cold for a moment, as his mind flashed to scenes from the Nature Channel on TV where a spider's egg sack would pop open and release thousands of tiny spiders, so light they would even float on the air! But the feeling passed with some relief as he got a closer look at one of the particles which floated up in front of his nose, and at least saw that it was not a spider! It was just a tiny piece of something else - almost dust like, just slightly larger. He breathed a sigh of relief, and some of the tiny particles were quickly sucked into his throat and down his airway, leaving the slightest burning sensation on the back of his mouth.

Both Zookie and Colin were coughing now, as they had received the brunt of the particles - dust, Jimmy guessed would be a better word - that had been released from the stranger, and he had to believe that being inside the dust-infested bus was not a good idea, and they needed to get out into the fresh air! The torch had also decided at that very moment to die completely, casting them into complete darkness! He grabbed the two boys by the arms and ushered them past him towards the front of the bus.

"Go!" he hissed. "Get outside!"

The three boys clambered hurriedly over the front seat and through the windscreen, collapsing in a heap on the other side, before jumping to their feet and rushing back over to where Marko, Scott and the injured Mr. Klopper were waiting. Jimmy tossed the dead makeshift torch into the fire, which the other two had built up into a welcome warmth-giving height by then, and then turned to look back at the bus, clearer now in the early morning light as the sun was creeping up just out of sight over the mountains. Both Colin and Zookie immediately rushed for their supply of water and drank almost an entire bottle each, before collapsing on the sleeping bags next to the fire.

"What happened in there?" Marko asked.

Jimmy didn't answer immediately. He wasn't really sure how to! What could he tell them that would make any sense at all? That the stranger had developed lizard-skin and grown a stalk from his head? That the stalk had developed a bulb and exploded releasing unknown stuff into the air, and that they had all breathed them in, and were quite possibly infected with some weird disease now? How would that make things any better around here? These boys had just miraculously survived a plummet down a mountainside, in a bus being attacked by a blood-sucking vampire guy! They had spent the night in a forest, sleeping on the ground, without any adult supervision, and to top it all off a man had just fallen out of a tree above where they were sleeping, and now it was up to them to save his life! Things were weird enough already!

"It was just a misunderstanding." He replied instead, frowning at both Colin and Zookie as a warning to keep their traps shut. They nodded in agreement, the message clear.

"Yeah." Colin said. "It was nothing."

"How is Mr. Klopper doing?" Jimmy asked, and this seemed to drag the conversation away from the bus and back to the injured driver instead.

"Not good." Marko replied. "He keeps trying to talk, but we can't make out anything he is saying."

"Okay. We need to get that branch out of his neck. I'm going to need your help." Jimmy said, hunching down next to Mr. Klopper's head. He seemed to have passed out again, his eyes closed but still gurgling bloody breaths through his mouth. He took the pair of leather gloves from Scott and then positioned himself with his legs on either side of the branch protruding from Mr. Klopper's neck. With gloved hands he gently grabbed the nearest end of the branch.

"I'm going to count to three and then pull it out." He said over his shoulder. "Colin, when it's out I need you to spray the wound with the antiseptic fluid, okay?"

Colin nodded, clearing his throat and taking up a seat next to Jimmy.

"Scott, get a piece of firewood ready. It needs to be red-hot on the one end, but not flaming."

"Why?" Scott asked.

"The wound is going to bleed really badly when the branch comes out" Jimmy replied. "We have to burn it closed to stop the bleeding."

"Burn it? Are you crazy?"

"Trust me!" Jimmy replied. "I've seen them do it in cowboy movies. It's the only way!"

Scott shook his head. "Man, I can't believe we are going to do this!"

"If we want to save Mr. Klopper's life then it's the only way!"

### Chapter 16

The scream that Mr. Klopper let out after Jimmy yanked the offending branch out of his neck, was nothing compared to the smell of burning flesh that permeated the makeshift camp once Scott had pressed the hot piece of firewood against the gaping hole that remained. It was a nauseating stench, packing itself like cotton-wool into their mouths and noses, making it hard to breathe without wanting to throw up immediately! Jimmy had them heat the piece of wood up again before repeating the cauterizing procedure on the other side of Mr. Klopper's neck. The pain must have knocked him out because he was pale and sweaty and appeared to be fast asleep by then.

The sun had reached the tip of the mountainside now, and was just beginning to peep over the edge, winking its bright orange eye at the boys below, bringing with it the promise of natural warmth and a new day. Their night alone in the woods had been tough on all of them, and Jimmy felt exhausted. He covered Mr. Klopper's sleeping body with one of the sleeping bags, threw a couple more pieces of wood onto the fire, and then pulled his duvet around his shoulders, leaning up against the small pile of firewood they had collected. It was Saturday. It was a new day. Things would be better.

Those who hadn't eaten all of their sandwiches the night before were scoffing down the rest of theirs now, a dry and tasteless breakfast that by all accounts should have been a breakfast of cereals, bacon and fried vienna's at the camp at Hobbiton-on-Hogsback, followed by a leisurely walk on one of the hiking trails through the Amatola Forests, and then most likely an afternoon of games, or swimming or arts and crafts. Instead they were lost in the remotest part of an enormous forest, all available food now devoured, and only a few bottles of water and cooldrink left between them. Mr. Klopper had bled out on two of the sleeping bags as well, which meant that if they had to spend another night here, it would be with a reduced supply of bedding.

The thought of possibly enduring another cool night in this place gave Jimmy the shivers. All he wanted was his own bed, a cup of hot coffee and some of his mother's famous meatballs. He didn't care if the Playstation or television were not there, those things seemed less important to him now. No, he needed his home, his bed and his mother!

Thinking about home only made Jimmy more determined than ever to get out of this place at whatever cost. In the fresh morning light he re-analyzed the imposing mountainside down which they had crashed, trying to find any sign that it might be possible to climb it again and reach the road so far above, but even in new light it was seemingly impossible. There were so many steep rock faces that the bus had passed over coming down, that were not accessible going in the opposite direction. None of the boys were expert rock-climbers, and it would be a death sentence for anyone who tried to climb back up again, without a doubt! The small open area they were in was encompassed on all other sides by the tall trees of the Amatola forest, and Jimmy knew that they would only end up getting lost if they chose a direction randomly and headed into it. This area was unfamiliar to all of them. He also had to think about what would happen when someone eventually came looking for the missing school bus. The search would start on the road, and when they found the point at which the bus had left the road, they would find the camp at the bottom. No, moving away from here was not an option. Not if they wanted to be rescued at all!

Now that he had a clear understanding of their position and what would be required for them to be found by any search party, Jimmy focused instead on the second factor around their rescue. The timing of it! Obviously, the sooner they got rescued the better, but realistically who knew when they would first notice that the boys were missing at all? Were there even telephones at Hobbiton? What if there were and they just assumed St Patrick's wasn't sending the boys anymore? The school itself would have confidence in the fact that it had sent Miss Winslow and Mr. Klopper with the boys, and that if there were a problem she would have phoned them by now, little knowing that she was dead, and Mr. Klopper not far from dead, of course! And their parents - even Jimmy's mom - would be hesitant to make contact with any of them for fear of embarrassing them in front of the other kids at the camp. It was a dire situation! If they didn't do something about it, the possibility was there that nobody would come looking for them at all until it was too late!

The one cell phone that still worked was pressing into Jimmy's hips through his pocket, and he pulled it out and stared at the blank screen. The phone represented a life line for them. If he could only get hold of someone, and they could start the search party, perhaps they could be out of here by nightfall! Jimmy switched it on, and after it sang its introduction tune and displayed the background picture of someone's pet dog on a lush green lawn, the little aerial sign at the top right was still showing an X over it. No signal. No rescue. No hope.

"Who's coming with me?" he asked, and the other boys all looked at him curiously. He waved the cell phone in the air. "I need to find a high spot and try and get a signal."

Marko raised his hand. "I'll go with."

Jimmy nodded. "Thanks, Marko." He turned to the rest of the boys. "Maybe we'll get out of here today. But maybe we won't. In the meantime I need you guys to collect more firewood in case we have to spend another night here. And take care of Mr. Klopper. If he wakes later give him some water. Can you guys do that?"

"Sure Jimmy."

"No problem."

"Okay."

"Oh," Jimmy added. "And don't wander off anywhere! You have to promise to stay together - here! This is where they will start looking for us."

He pushed himself up, tossing his duvet to one side. Marko joined him at the edge of the camp, and to anyone watching them they made an unlikely pair - David and Goliath - headed off to save the day together.

"We'll be back by lunchtime." Jimmy said, and then turned and walked off into the forest towards the highest point he could see, Marko shortly on his heels.

The Amatola forests ran east to west along the main south-facing escarpment of the Winterberg mountain ranges in the Eastern Cape of Southern Africa. The area was well known for its red clay like soils, often interspersed with yellow clays which were used in a thriving pottery and sculpture trade in the area. This time of December, at the peak of the South African summer season, rainfall figures were highest, accounting for an abundance of plant and wildlife. The area was hugely popular with the tourist industry, offering hikes, horse and 4 x 4 trails, as well as picnic sites. Jimmy was unaware of all of this, and perhaps if he had been he would have been less reluctant to head off into it with his small gang of survivors in the hope of finding a hiking trail or a family on a picnic. To them the forests were a scary and gloomy place - a place where young boys could get lost and never be found again.

Even now, as he and Marko made their way through the thick, mostly untouched undergrowth, clambering over rocks and vines, ducking under the gnarled branches of grey moss-covered trees, the whole time keeping a wary eye on the scene both ahead and behind them, the shadowy darkness of it seemed both evil and sacred, as if the forest belonged to the ancestors, and their spirits were floating around above them, keeping an eye on the two intruders. They could hear the sounds of wildlife from all directions; birds, frogs, monkeys and even once the roar of a possible leopard or serval cat.

"Keep track of where we are going." Jimmy whispered, as if the very nature of the forests required him to speak in hushed tones. "We need to find our way back again! If we get lost in here, we die!"

Marko nodded. "Okay. I'll try. Where are we going?"

Jimmy pointed ahead, through a gap in the dense canopy of the trees above them. "Towards that small outcrop of rocks, it looks climbable."

Marko peered in the direction in which Jimmy was pointing. "Small? It looks huge. How are you going to climb that?"

"I'll figure that out when we get there" Jimmy replied, pushing forward. "Come on, buddy. This place freaks me out big time!"

### Chapter 17

It took the two boys the better part of an hour to reach the base of the cliff they had seen through the tree tops. By the time they had reached it they were both out of breath and sweating from the exertion of navigating the undisturbed forests on their journey. Jimmy was silently cursing himself for not thinking to bring any bottled water with. Marko had been right. The peak was not small at all, in fact it was much taller than Jimmy could have imagined! Although it was a steep and precarious climb, there were several hand and footholds that he could see on the face of it, and it was still less imposing than the mountainside back at the camp, so he was confident it could be climbed with some effort.

"How high do you reckon it is?" Marko panted, finding a seat in the shade of the rocks and staring up at the wall of rock in front of them.

"About thirty meters, I guess. It's the highest point in this area, so if we're going to get a cell phone signal, it has to be from the top."

"I'm thirsty." Marko sighed. "We should have brought water with."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Dude, it's not your fault!" Marko chuckled. "Why are you taking so much responsibility for everything? None of what happened was your fault - or any of ours, for that matter!"

Jimmy nodded. "I don't know. I guess we just needed to get organized, and I took the lead. Nobody else was stepping up."

"Nobody else would have." Marko sighed. "We're not used to tough times. Not like you. You know, with your father and all..."

Jimmy glared at Marko, furious at the statement. "What do you mean? What do you know about my father? What do any of you know?"

"Relax, buddy." Marko waved his hands about. "I'm just saying, you know? I mean we've all heard the stories and rumors."

"You don't know anything." Jimmy muttered. "My dad was... Aah, forget it. I don't need to explain to you or anyone else."

"You're right. I'm sorry. Let's forget I said anything."

There was an uncomfortable silence for the next few moments, only interrupted by the occasional chirp of a bird and the rustle of leaves somewhere in the gentle wind. Jimmy was about to apologize to Marko for the way he had reacted when he stopped himself in mid-breath. There was another sound. A familiar sound!

"Do you hear that?" Jimmy whispered excitedly.

Marko cocked his head to one side. "What, the birds?"

"No. Listen! It's running water!"

Marko sat up straight at the mention of water, and listened intently for a moment, before his eyes lit up with glee. "I hear it! Where's it coming from?"

"I think it's over that way." Jimmy said, pointing to the right of where they stood in front of the cliff. "It must be a stream or something."

"Let's go!" Marko yelled, leaping to his feet and rushing off towards the beautiful sound. Jimmy followed him through the jungle, dry leaves and pine needles crunching under their feet as they ran and clambered over obstacles. There was a denser area of bush which Marko crashed headfirst into, clawing his way through the tangle of leaves and branches, unconcerned with the scratches he was getting on his arms and legs. His efforts paid off, though, as he burst through the other side of it and almost fell straight into the small stream which ran along the other side of the hedging. Jimmy collided into the rear of him, almost sending them both sprawling into the shallow but crystal clear waters.

"Do you think it's safe to drink?" Jimmy asked.

"There's only one way to find out!" Marko fell to his knees and cupped a handful of water; guiding it to his mouth and gulping it down in one go. "Oh my gosh! It's delicious!"

Jimmy wasn't going to wait for more confirmation than that, and he knelt next to Marko and proceeded to quench his own thirst. Marko had been right, the water really was delicious! It was ice-cold and tasted like strawberries! They drank until they couldn't anymore, before splashing their faces and each other with it. After a few minutes they were both completely drenched, laughing hysterically as they collapsed onto the bank, staring up at the sky through the trees.

"Who do you think the stranger on the bus was?" Marko asked after a while, tracing the shape of the trees above his head with his finger in the air. "I mean, do you think he was... you know, human?"

"Of course he was human." Jimmy said, but visions of the crusted skin and the bulbous stalk releasing tiny spores into the air were flashing through his mind. "I just think he was... sick maybe."

"Sick?" Marko chuckled. "How sick do you have to be to bite somebody's throat like that?"

"Pretty sick, I guess."

They lay there for a few more moments, before Jimmy stood up and dusted himself off. "Let's head back to the cliff. Once I get a signal and make the phone call we can come back here and collect some water for the rest of the guys at the camp."

They followed their trail back to the base of the cliff, feeling rested and refreshed. Jimmy was ready for the climb, and strangely enough it suddenly didn't seem as daunting now as it had seemed when he was still thirsty a few minutes earlier! He tapped Marko on the shoulder and then approached the wall of rock, found his first decent foot and handhold, and then proceeded to climb up the face of it.

"Be careful!" Marko warned, and Jimmy nodded.

It was a lot easier than he had imagined it would be from the bottom. There were hundreds of cracks and sharp protrusions which made for easy climbing. It was only when he paused later for a short break, and made the mistake of looking down, when he realized just how dangerous this climb actually was! He was probably up about fifteen meters from the ground, and in reality this was close to three stories of an apartment building! Marko looked like a tiny speck on the ground below! Jimmy's heart was pounding now, and he looked upwards to see how far he still had to go. To his relief he found he was more than two thirds of the way up already. It was going to be a lot easier heading to the top than changing his mind and heading back down! His fingers were aching and scratched from grabbing hold and supporting his body weight so far, but Jimmy knew he could complete the climb. In fact, he knew he had no choice!

He wasn't completely unaware of the consequence of slipping and falling from this height either. It would mean certain broken bones for sure, maybe even death. Although the ground below was covered with leaves and grass, it was only a thin layer that ran across solid rock less than a foot below the ground cover. If he hit that with his head! He chose not to think about that, found it was making him less confident in his climbing abilities. It was time to put his head down and push upwards!

He climbed the rest of the way with the fear of falling hovering on his mind like a small cloud. It wasn't long before his hand reached upwards for another place to grip and instead he found himself reaching for fresh air. He was delighted to find himself at the top of the rock. He sourced one last foothold and then hoisted himself up and over the edge, onto a plateau of level rocks, almost in line with the canopy of trees in the forest around them. He took a few moments to get his breath back, that hollow sensation of fear in his stomach now replaced by the adrenaline of actually accomplishing the climb! Once he had regained some composure he looked around from his seat, at the forest. Back the way they had come the imposing face of the mountainside above their campsite towered above the tree tops. He was still not high enough to see the road that wound towards the small town of Hogsback somewhere on the other side of that mountain. To his left he could see an endless stretch of forest which seemed as if it had never been touched by human hands. To his right, the small cliff he had climbed stretched away through the trees, dividing this section of the forest with another even more expansive section containing several endless peaks and valleys on the other side of it.

It was more apparent than ever that they were truly in the middle of nowhere, with no sign of an easy exit! All of their hope of rescue now rested on whether or not their one working cell phone would be able to get a signal from up here. As he took the phone out of the pocket of his pants, he was surprised to find his hands were trembling.

### Chapter 18

He switched the cell phone on and the power up seemed to take forever. By the time the cell phone company's logo had displayed and the screen had eventually switched to the familiar background of the dog on the lawn, Jimmy almost couldn't wait any longer. The tiny image of the cell phone tower in the top right of the screen flashed briefly, with a tiny arrow searching for a network.

_Come on!_ Jimmy was thinking. _Even one bar will be enough!_

It seemed the gods were ready to start handing out some good news, and Jimmy almost shouted in joy at the sight of a weak two-bar signal!

"It works!" he shouted down at Marko, who seemed so tiny below. He could see him giving him two thumbs ups in return.

Jimmy studied the keypad of the phone for what seemed like an eternity. It seemed unreal that their ordeal would soon be over! Just one phone call and within a few hours or so their makeshift campsite would be swarming with medical rescue personnel, worried parents, concerned teachers and police officers. Shortly after that they would be headed home! Back to normality and back to their lives! There was only one number that Jimmy needed to know, and that number was ingrained in his memory, forced there by hours of repeated reminders from his mother.

He started dialing, hands still shaking.

0. 8. 3. 5. 9. 7. 4. 2...

There was a flutter of sound alongside him suddenly, accompanied by a burst of wind, and he physically jumped, startled by the large unknown bird which had landed on the rocks next to him. The phone in his hand slipped out of his grasp and he grabbed frantically at it, only succeeding in knocking it further away from him with the other hand. He watched it arc away from him, almost in slow motion, twirling through the air out towards the forest floor so far below. Jimmy's heart was racing fiercely, as he knew the phone was probably their most important item in the camp. He was reaching so far forward in his efforts to grab it that he slipped off the edge and found himself over open air! There was a point where he had to make the decision to grab onto something else other than the phone, and he did so just in time, his fingers just barely catching the edge of the cliff and gripping hard enough to jerk his body back towards the face of it. He slammed into the rocks with enough force to send a sharp stabbing pain through his chest, the offending bird that had startled him taking off in flight again at his sudden movements.

He twisted his head around to watch the cell phone as it plummeted towards the ground so far below. Marko was there, but not paying attention to what was happening above. Jimmy shouted out, his voice cracking with emotion, but it was too late. By the time Marko looked up the cell phone was above and behind him, and it struck a small group of rocks, sending it scattering in different directions as it broke apart completely.

Jimmy cried out in anguish at the loss of the phone. The weight of what had just happened sat on his shoulders like an extra person, and he could feel his fingers starting to slip. If he just let go everything would be over!

Pull yourself up!

It wasn't a voice as such, more like a sensation. He could imagine the anguish his mother would feel if he died out here, like this. It wouldn't be fair to do that to her, he realized. Not for anything!

He gritted his teeth and reached up over the edge of the cliff, finding a handhold almost immediately, and pulling himself up with every ounce of the little strength he had left. By the time he had managed to get the bulk of his body back onto the ledge he could hear the faint sound of shouting and cursing coming from Marko below.

Jimmy just lay there for a few moments, eyes closed, breathing heavily. He did not want to think about what had just happened. Had he just signed their death warrants?

"Jimmy!" Marko was screeching from below now, determined that he get a response. Jimmy rolled over onto his back and then sat up and peered over the edge at the pale-faced chubby boy at the base of the cliff.

"I'm sorry!" he yelled. "It slipped out of my hands!"

"Shit bricks!"

He could see Marko pacing around below, muttering to himself and waving his hands about in the air. He finally stopped and looked up again, a calmer expression on his face.

"Can you get down? I'm going to try and find all the pieces. We can fix it, right?"

Jimmy nodded and waved okay. The ledge where he sat tapered off to the right hand side, and he followed the descending slope of it to where it broke off into a set of natural steps which were a lot easier to navigate down. He only had to physically climb down the face of it again when the steps ended, but this was only about five meters off the ground, and took him only a few short minutes. Soon he was back on the forest floor again, and headed up the short hill through some trees to where Marko was waiting.

Marko held his cupped hands towards Jimmy. He was holding pieces of the phone - at least six that Jimmy could count. "Can you fix it?"

Jimmy shrugged. "I'll try, but not here. Let's head back to the camp and I'll try there instead - in case I need help."

He shoved the pieces of the phone into his pockets, and they made their way back through the forest the same way they had come. It was past midday by now, the sun already crossing over its apex in the sky above. It was also unbearably humid and hot! The boys walked in silence, neither one wanting to start an awkward conversation. They knew how serious this was, and it wasn't going to help anything by trying to small talk their way out of it. Jimmy had no doubt the boys at the camp would be super pissed off at him! They had rested their hopes on his tiny back, confident in his abilities to lead them to safety, one way or the other. And the reality was that they now had no way of contacting the outside world, even if they wanted to! They were out of food, almost out of water, and the bodies in the bus would start rotting soon, so there would also be that.

Things were getting serious. Pretty soon they would start turning on each other, out of frustration. Jimmy had read "Lord of the Flies" as part of his Grade 5 book report last year, and then again, just for fun. He knew what could happen in a place and a situation like this. It was up to him now to fix things, before they disintegrated into basic animals the way the children in the book had done. He also realized that if he couldn't fix the phone there was only going to be one dangerous option left for them, and that was for one of them to attempt the climb back up the mountainside to the road. It had looked impossible from below, but perhaps it could be done. The only downside was that they would not be climbing with any fancy climbing equipment or ropes. It would be free style. One slip and the fall would not just break bones or crack ribs. It was going to kill someone!

Jimmy also knew that he would ultimately be the one who volunteered for that climb. It was he that had let them down by breaking the phone in the first place, and it would be the right thing to do. He wasn't so sure his mother would agree, though. But his mother wasn't here to make that decision for him anyway. She had left him to make it on his own - the same way his father had once before. Thinking about his father made Jimmy shiver, despite the incredible heat of the day. The man had been pushed out of his thoughts for so many years, and yet here he was again. Those memories which Jimmy had purposefully chosen to forget were resurfacing now, and as hard as he tried he could not push them back down again! Jimmy couldn't remember his father's face anymore - at least not in any specific detail. It was just a blurred image in the back of his mind, like a dark shape through a stained-glass window. But it was unmistakable! Six years was a long enough time to forget the color of his father's eyes, but it was not long enough to forget what he had done. No amount of time may ever be enough for that!

The details of those last days were also blurred in Jimmy's memory, the way memories blur after time - especially when you were only a young boy. But the details paled when compared to the big picture. Jimmy remembered a night spent on the Orient Beach back home in East London, just he and his mother, cowering under a single blanket grabbed in haste, flimsy protection from the cold sea air of an Eastern Cape winter. The cold was only a partial reason for their huddling together, though. The real reason was _him!_ Jimmy couldn't remember much about what had started the fight, but he remembered the beating that his mother had taken at the hands of his father. He remembered the screaming, and things breaking. And the blood... that had been the worst - the blood that had poured out of her mouth and her nose and covered everything. And he remembered that the blood had not stopped or slowed the beating.

He remembered cowering under his bed earlier, listening to the awful sounds that were coming from the room next door. He remembered the thuds and the bangs and the crying. And then it had gone quiet for a long time. He remembered the silence thereafter being the worst of it. Not knowing what was happening to his mother. Not knowing where his father was now. Not knowing if it was safe to come out from his hiding place. Eventually the waiting got the better of him and he had crawled out from under the bed and made his way slowly to the closed door of his bedroom. He remembered the sound the door had made when he turned the handle and opened it - that squeak that he could have sworn was louder than any of the sounds he'd heard earlier. The hallway had been deserted and he remembered poking his head out to look both ways and seeing nothing but the empty passage and closed doors, some with holes punched in them. He remembered that he was barefoot, and the sensation of the carpet under his feet as he made his way to the room next to his.

One detail that he would never forget was the streak of blood on his parent's bedroom door - the red of it against the arctic white of the paint. He remembered that!

"We're here." Marko said from alongside him, and Jimmy looked at him in confusion for a moment, wondering how the boy had ended up in his memories, but then he saw the campsite through the trees ahead of them, and he came back to reality - the horrors of a six year olds suppressed memories quickly faded into the distance, leaving behind only a hollow sensation in his gut and a sour taste in his mouth.

### Chapter 19

The first thing Jimmy noticed when the campsite came into view was the wheel spanner that Scott was holding in his hands. He was seated on a log at one side of the now dead fireplace, staring across at Zookie and Colin, where they stood facing him. At first Jimmy thought they were just having a conversation, but then he noticed the look of absolute fear on Scott's face, and the elation when he saw him and Marko returning from their excursion. He jumped up immediately and ran over to them, his face pale.

"There's something wrong!" he blurted out, and there was a high-pitched anxiety in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Marko asked, frowning.

Scott gestured at the two boys who were still standing alongside each other near the fireplace. They had not moved or indicated that they had noticed the return of the other boys, but were still staring motionlessly ahead at where Scott had been sitting a few moments earlier.

"Them!" Scott said shakily, "There's something wrong with them!"

"Were they teasing you?" Marko asked, laughing and shaking his head. "Come on, Scotty! Man up, bro!"

"They're... sick." Scott replied, shaking his head. "And they're freaking me out!"

"What do you mean, sick?" Jimmy asked, taking a step towards where the two boys stood, but Scott grabbed his arm fiercely, pushing him back.

"Don't go near them!" he spat.

"What's he talking about?" Marko asked, confused, and looking to Jimmy for an answer.

"I'm not sure. What happened?"

Scott turned and looked at the two motionless boys. "Everything was fine after you left this morning. We collected some more firewood, tidied up the campsite and then we sat around talking about the accident, and Miss Winslow and everything. Then after a while Zookie stopped talking, and just started staring ahead at nothing. Colin and I teased him, but he wasn't responding. Then a few minutes later Colin started doing the same thing! Just sitting there, staring into the forest behind me!"

Jimmy frowned. "And they've been like that ever since?"

"No. Well, yes. Zookie walked towards me after a while and..."

"And what?" Jimmy asked impatiently.

"He... _sniffed_ me!"

Marko chuckled. "He what?"

"He flipping sniffed me!" Scott yelled suddenly, the sound of his small voice echoing off the nearby mountainside. He started shaking, as if he was suddenly getting cold, although it was incredibly hot and humid.

"Relax." Jimmy said, placing his hand on Scott's shoulder. "What else?"

"I got scared; I'm not going to lie! Their eyes were so... dead! I grabbed the wheel spanner and stepped away from them. Zookie went back to standing next to Colin and they've been standing there staring at the forest ever since... for hours!"

"Hours? They haven't moved?"

Scott shook his head vehemently. "They haven't even blinked! What's wrong with them, Jimmy? What happened on the bus this morning?"

Jimmy swallowed. Flashes of the strange stalk and bulb protruding from the stranger's head danced briefly through his mind, the exploding pod of tiny dust particles... could it have affected the boys? If so, why was nothing wrong with him? He had breathed in a fair share of the strange dust, yet he felt fine!

He shook his head slowly. "No. It can't be that..."

"Can't be what?" Marko asked, and the slightest hint of fear had started creeping into his voice now.

"Nothing." Jimmy replied quickly. "What about Mr. Klopper?"

They looked over at the covered bulge of the bus driver on his makeshift bed near the fireplace.

"He's been unconscious the whole time."

"Stay here." Jimmy told the other two boys. He pulled the pocket knife from his pocket and started heading towards the campsite.

"Wait! Take this!" Scott handed Jimmy the wheel spanner, nodding quickly.

Jimmy took the wheel spanner from Scott, the solid weight of it in his hand a small comfort. He wasn't sure what to expect from Zookie and Colin, but perhaps it would be better not to take any chances! He took a few tentative steps towards where the boys were standing, but neither his approach nor calling out their names harnessed any response from them. By the time he was only a few feet away and had moved to a position in front of them, neither boy had moved even an inch. Scott had been right about their eyes. As Jimmy tilted his head looking at their faces, he couldn't help but notice the expression in their eyes... blank was the only word he could think of to describe them.

Dead.

Scott's description of their eyes ran briefly across his thoughts. It was true... they had dead eyes. Unblinking. Unmoving. Opaque.

"Hey guys." He said, trying to keep a cheerful tone. "What's up?"

Neither boy acknowledged his presence, they just kept staring ahead at him – no, _through_ him.

"Zookie? Colin?"

Nothing. Scott had been right, it was freaky. Something had happened to them, and Jimmy had no idea what it was!

You know!

He ignored the tiny voice at the back of his mind, not willing to agree with it. This had nothing to do with the bus! Nothing to do with the stranger, or the dust particles!

Then what else?

Jimmy took a step closer to Zookie and poked him gently in the shoulder with the wheel spanner. His body swayed slightly, the way a small tree might do in a gentle breeze, but other than that there was no response. He noticed both boys were staring at the forest on the far side of the campsite, in the same direction, and he turned to see what they were looking at or seeing, but there was only the trees and boulders and dark places. Whatever they were seeing, Jimmy could not.

He headed back to where Scott and Marko stood, waiting patiently.

"Well?" Marko asked.

Jimmy shrugged. "I don't know... they're plutonic... or platatonic or something like that."

"Catatonic" Scott corrected.

Jimmy nodded. "Exactly. That's what I said."

"What do we do now?" Marko asked in despair. "The cell phone is broken, two of our buddies are in a coma, and we have an injured bus driver and a totaled bus full of dead people!"

"The cell phone broke?" Scott asked, and there was a hint of exasperation in his voice.

Jimmy nodded. "I dropped it."

"Did you at least get to make a call first?"

Jimmy shook his head regretfully.

"Great!" Scott exclaimed. "Now what?"

"I can fix it." Jimmy said. "I will fix it."

Marko sat down on his haunches alongside them. "Does that mean we're spending another night here? With these two zombies?"

"Not if we can fix the phone." Jimmy replied. "I need tape – masking tape or Sellotape or anything."

Scott shook his head. "We don't have anything like that."

"Scott's right." Marko said. "It's just clothes, water, blankets and what's left of the first aid kit."

Jimmy's eyes lit up. "That's it! You're a genius, Marko."

Marko frowned, but the compliment seemed to fit him well, and he then smiled. "Thank you. Um... why?"

"The first aid kit; it's got plasters in it!"

Marko nodded. "Yes! Plasters are sticky, right?"

"Go grab it quickly!" Jimmy said, removing the pieces of the cell phone from his pockets and then taking his shirt off. He laid the small white T-shirt on the ground, which was now a grayish colour from two days of sweat and dirt, covered in unmentionable dark brown stains, and then arranged the six pieces of the phone side by side on it.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked, turning to face Marko and Scott, but then pausing when he noticed their surprised faces. They were staring at the bare-chested boy, a mixture of confusion and pity on their faces.

"What happened to you?" Scott asked softly, never once removing his eyes from Jimmy's naked torso.

In the excitement of possibly repairing the cell phone, Jimmy had forgotten why he always kept his shirt on in front of other people, even his own mother sometimes. The scars that ran across his back and sides were not meant for the eyes of others! The ugly welts of hardened skin were his and his alone! How could he be so stupid! He started reaching for his shirt again, but then he paused. What difference would it make now anyway? They had already seen them! Hiding them now would be pointless.

"What happened to you?" Marko echoed.

"I tried to stop a fight once." Jimmy replied after a moment, staring the boys down defiantly. "Now get a good look so we can move on!"

### Chapter 20

By the time Marko had fetched the first aid kit and they had all sat down to start patching the pieces of the broken cell phone back together, Jimmy was wondering why he had been so afraid in the past of showing his scars to other people. After the initial shock of seeing them, both Scott and Marko had carried on normally, as if there was nothing interesting to see anymore. Jimmy marveled at the ability of young people like himself to look past such deformities in a short period of time and he wished most grown-ups could learn to do the same. Even some doctors who saw the scars on his back for the first time found it difficult to hide their shock – and, sometimes, disgust. Kids were different though, Jimmy could see that now. He was pleasantly surprised and in a way had begun to feel closer to the two boys for it!

Repairing the cell phone was tougher than he had imagined it would be though. Some of the pieces of the phone were easy to re-assemble – specifically the cover, battery, rubbery keypad and the cracked screen. The tiny green motherboard was a different story. It had cracked in half, the silver pieces of soldering that joined all the little gold lines to each other had come loose. It was like assembling a puzzle, having to align the minute pathways up again, and taping it together as well as possible without using too many plasters. There were only eight plasters in the first aid kit, and he had to use three of them on the motherboard alone. Once he had taped it back together and re-inserted it into the phone as best he could, he used the remaining five plasters to keep the battery and cover in place.

By the time he was done and he was holding the newly assembled phone in his hands, he had developed a slight headache. Building the phone was one thing, but getting it to turn back on would be another completely!

"Switch it on." Marko said excitedly, leaning in over Jimmy's shoulder. "Let's see if it works!"

Jimmy pressed the power-on button gingerly, and held his breath. For a moment nothing happened, the screen remained as blank and gray as the eyes of his nearby school friends, but then there was a flash of orange as the screen lit up and the distorted image of the service provider appeared through the large crack.

"Yeah!" Marko yelled, and he and Scott exchanged high fives in elation.

"What's going on?"

The voice had come from behind them, and they all swung around at the same time in surprise. Zookie was standing there, looking down at them and smiling ridiculously. Scott scampered backwards on all fours away from him.

Jimmy started feeling around blindly next to him, trying to sense where he had left the wheel spanner, but he paused after a moment, noticing Zookie's eyes. They were clear again. The dead was gone!

"Zook's?" he asked tentatively.

Zookie frowned. "Yes?"

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Zookie asked in confusion. "What's going on? Did you make the call? Is somebody coming?"

"Where's Colin?" Scott asked from behind them.

"Right here" Colin said, approaching the group from where he had been standing a few moments ago. "What's happening? I'm starved! Is it lunch time yet?"

Jimmy glanced at the setting sun over the forest. It was almost dark again. The day had flown by so quickly!

"It's almost night time." He replied.

Zookie and Colin looked at each other in confusion.

"Really?" Zookie asked, and there was a genuine trace of sincerity in his tone. "It was just morning!"

"I don't understand." Colin added.

Scott had regained some of his composure and had stood up now. He approached the two boys, peering intently at their eyes. "Are you okay now?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're not all spaced out anymore?"

"Spaced out?"

"You know... weird!"

"Your mother is weird." Colin chirped, and Zookie chuckled.

"And his brother."

Scott smiled. "Welcome back, dickheads."

"Screw you!" Zookie laughed. "What's going on? What's that?" he asked, pointing at the patched phone in Jimmy's hand.

"We had to fix the cell phone." He replied. "It broke."

Zookie nodded, and then he seemed to notice Jimmy's bare torso for the first time, and his eyes widened. "Holy shit, Jimmo!"

Jimmy blushed, suddenly realizing he had not yet put his shirt back on. He quickly grabbed it off the ground and slipped it over his head. "It's nothing." He muttered.

"Sure looks like something."

"What's there to eat?" Colin asked, and the mention of food diverted the boys' attention.

"I'm starved too." Marko added. "Do we have any food left?"

"Hang on guys!" Scott said. "What about the phone, Jimmy? Is it working now?"

Jimmy had almost forgotten about the cell phone, and he held it up to look at the screen. It was working, it seemed, but what concerned him was that the tiny battery signal in the left hand corner of the screen had turned a dark red, and was showing zero bars!

"The battery is almost dead!" he muttered. "We have to preserve it."

"Make a call!" Colin pleaded. "I don't want to spend another night here!"

"It's no good." Jimmy replied, showing them the screen and pointing at the signal bar. "We'll only get a signal from the cliff through the forest."

"Then let's go!"

"It's an hour long walk. It's getting dark and we'll get lost. We'll have to wait until tomorrow." Jimmy replied, pressing the power button and switching the cell phone off.

The boys sighed in unison, some of them sitting down in despair. The prospect of another night out in these woods had killed their spirits and made them completely forget about their hunger or anything else that had happened that day. They sat in silence for several minutes, each contemplating their own demons, trying to summon the courage required to push through another dark night or to accept the fact that they would not be going home today after all.

"What are we going to eat?" Marko asked eventually. "Are there any sandwiches left?"

The boys shook their head in reply. Their measly rations were only meant to last them for less than a day. They were headed into day two already. Colin dug in his pocket and pulled out an empty plastic wrapper, holding it out in his hands.

"Just crumbs." He muttered and was about to toss the wrapper away, but Jimmy grabbed his wrist.

"Crumbs might do!" he smiled.

Marko laughed long and hard. "Are we going to share them out between the five of us? Six, if Mr. Klopper wakes up!"

"Quickly!" Jimmy said. "It's getting dark already! I need some sort of rope and a container... anything big and heavy enough."

"Heavy enough for what?"

"You'll see!" Jimmy smiled. "And we had better get that fire going as well. It's going to be cold later." He pointed up at the clear sky which had started turning a burnt orange color. "No clouds."

They divided themselves up into groups – Colin and Scott were in charge of the fire, Marko and Zookie went hunting for a suitable container for Jimmy's plan, while Jimmy himself used the pocket knife to cut some of the extra clothes they had, forming strips which he tied together as a makeshift rope. It wasn't long before Marko and Zookie had returned with an old plastic milk crate and dropped it next to Jimmy.

"Will this do? We found it near the trailer."

"It's perfect!" Jimmy smiled. He stood up off the duvet he was sitting on, stepping gingerly over the still sleeping form of Mr. Klopper, and then picked up the crate and carried it towards the edge of the forest.

"I don't understand how a crate and a rope are going to catch us any supper." Marko said, following Jimmy.

"You'll see."

Jimmy looked around for a ruler-length piece of wood, and found a small and fairly straight piece of branch. He tied the makeshift rope around the centre of it, and then set up the crate on the ground, upside down. He lifted one end and propped it up with the branch, feeding the rope away from it to a small group of bushes. He held out his hand for the wrapper of leftover crumbs, and Colin handed them over. Jimmy opened the wrapper carefully and poured the small pieces of bread in a tiny heap under the crate. He gestured for the rest of the boys to follow him back to the bushes, where they crouched down out of sight, the end of the rope in Jimmy's hand.

"We wait for a bird or something to come along, when it goes under the crate to eat the crumbs, we pull the rope which frees the branch, and the crate falls down, trapping it." He said proudly.

"That's pretty cool!" Marko exclaimed. "Where did you learn that?"

"My grandparents lived on a farm outside East London." Jimmy whispered. "My mom and I used to go there for weekends, sometimes, before they passed away. My grandfather taught me this trick to catch doves."

"Doves?" Colin asked. "And then you ate them?" He sounded shocked and slightly disgusted.

"No dummy! My grandfather used to breed with them."

"So whatever we catch we're going to eat?" Marko asked.

Jimmy nodded. "That's the plan."

"That's gross." Scott added.

"No," Jimmy smiled. "That's how we're going to feed ourselves. Now be quiet, you'll scare our supper away!"

The sun had started setting by this time, disappearing over the tree tops above them. In the gloomy darkness of the forest, the boys' waited patiently for something good to happen for a change.

### Chapter 21

They had underestimated the amount of patience that would be required for the task at hand, and after thirty minutes or so it started to show. Marko was fidgeting, Scott had started humming and had to be reminded to be quiet, while Colin and Zookie had got bored of looking at the crate all the time, and had instead lay down on the ground and were staring up at the stars through the tree tops. It was still quite warm, not a breath of wind, the heat of the day still emanating off the ground around them. The fire which they had built up earlier had started waning, and was now only a tiny flame visible nearby. Mr. Klopper was snoring; a rasping and alien sound in the beauty of the African night, completely out of place, yet comfortingly familiar and a reminder that they were not completely alone.

Jimmy himself was feeling the pain of sitting motionlessly for an extended period of time. His legs were cramping, and the hand that held the rope had almost fallen asleep, forcing him to flex his fingers occasionally to remove the sensation of pins and needles. He was about to throw in the towel and direct the boys back to the fireplace for some added warmth, when he heard the soft rustle of leaves from the undergrowth behind the crate. It was an unmistakable sound, and it immediately got his adrenaline pumping again, all concerns of cramping now completely gone.

"What was that?" Marko whispered beside Jimmy.

"Ssshhhh!"

The little creature appeared, just a darker shadow amongst other shadows at first, but as it approached the crate, its little nose twitching in the air, it crossed a piece of moonlit ground and became immediately visible. It was a rock hyrax, or _dassie_ , as they were more commonly known in South Africa. It had a dark brown felt, short neck and a pointy head with long black whiskers. Jimmy had seen hundreds of them on his grandparent's farm, and he knew them well enough to know that they never travelled alone, but always in a pack. His grandfather had also told him they usually send a sentry up to the top of a rock to keep an eye out for predators while the rest of the pack foraged – it was one of their unique traits. It wasn't long before Jimmy saw two more _dassies_ emerge from the undergrowth, close on the heels of their friend. They were a curious bunch, and the smell of a foreign food item had drawn them to the crate, where they now stood, examining it carefully and still sniffing the air cautiously. The one that had appeared first was determined not to let his friends beat him to the prize he had found, and hopped in beneath the crate, sitting on his back legs and eating the crumbs that had been left there.

Jimmy's heart pounded furiously as he gently tightened his grip on the T-shirt rope, until he had removed all the slack and felt the resistance of the branch. Taking a deep breath he suddenly yanked the rope towards him, forcing the branch to shoot out from under the crate, releasing it and allowing gravity to do the rest. The crate landed neatly over the _dassie_ , and immediately the rest of them scattered back into the forest, giving off a high trilling sound as they ran for their lives. The unfortunate _dassie_ trapped under the crate screeched loudly, and jumped up against the crate, at one point almost uplifting and overturning it. Jimmy bolted out from his hiding place and threw himself on top of the crate while the small animal thudded against it beneath him.

The boys had now abandoned any need for silence and were whooping and jumping around, probably scaring any nearby animals as far away as possible from them. The noise also seemed to make the _dassie_ fight harder against his prison walls, and Jimmy had to hold on furiously, careful not to let his finger slip through the holes in the crate for fear of being bitten by the trapped creature.

"Guys!" he hissed, trying to attract their attention. "I need help! We need to get this little guy out without letting it escape!"

They re-organized themselves and approached Jimmy and the crate.

"What do we do?" Marko asked.

"We have to kill it." Jimmy replied.

"No ways!" Colin exclaimed. "I'm not doing that!"

"Are you planning on eating it while it's still alive, then?" Jimmy asked, and a few of the boys laughed.

"How do we do it?"

"Grab a rock and then make a half moon around me. When I lift the crate whoever is the nearest bashes it when it tries to run."

"That's cruel, man." Colin sighed.

"I forgot my tranquilizer gun and meditational music at home." Jimmy replied sarcastically. "Do you have a better idea?"

There was only silence in response to his question, and the boys quickly dispersed to find their preferred killing rock. When they returned they formed a semi-circle around Jimmy.

"Okay." Jimmy said. "On three I'm going to lift the front of the crate up. You're only going to get one shot! Make it count!"

There was a murmur of agreement. Jimmy crouched behind the crate, knees on the floor, hands resting on the furthest edge away from him. He looked at each of the boys in turn, and they indicated that they were ready.

"One. Two. _Three_!"

He had barely started lifting the edge of the crate when the _dassie_ dashed through the small gap that had been created, knocking him backwards. There were several yells of excitement and the thudding of rocks hitting the soft ground. As Jimmy got back to his knees he could see the _dassie_ had managed to avoid being crushed by three of the rocks, and that only Zookie now stood in its way, as it darted towards him for the protection of the forest behind him. Zookie was holding his rock above his head, his eyes wild in the bright moonlight, and Jimmy waited for him to bring the heavy weight of it down on the small animal's head. To his surprise though, Zookie tossed the rock aside instead, and reached down for the animal with his bare hands as it darted between his legs! Jimmy was sure the creature would bite his outstretched fingers, but instead Zookie had grabbed the back of the dassie's neck, lifting the writhing animal up by the scruff, the way one would pick up a puppy or kitten, only more violently.

"Yes!" Jimmy exclaimed, but the elation soon changed to confusion as Zookie lifted the animal's head and sunk his teeth into its throat, biting through the thick fur the way a leopard or wild cat would have done! Blood spurted from the dassie's neck, and it gave a screech which was silenced as Zookie bit down hard, the cracking sound of bone and snapping tendons filled the air.

A stunned silence had come over the rest of the boys. They stood watching in shock and horror as their classmate sucked on the blood of the now limp beast, horrible slurping and swallowing sounds that turned the stomach, while Zookie moaned ecstatically for a moment, seemingly oblivious to the people around him! After only a few seconds, Zookie paused. He lifted the dead animal away from him, staring at it in confusion, before spitting blood and fur out of his mouth and tossing the small beast aside. He looked around at the other boys, and as Zookie's eyes caught his, Jimmy noticed that the terrible dead stare was back again, but this time there was something else there... something darker! Jimmy recognized it instantly. He had seen it once before, not too long ago.

The stranger's eyes!

Jimmy had stared into those eyes of evil as the bus was crashing through the barrier and heading down the mountainside. He remembered the cold darkness of them, the determination and purpose in that gaze! Zookie's eyes were twins of those now, and that frightened Jimmy even more!

"Holy crap." Scott whispered, looking down at the crumpled form of the dassie at his feet, and then back up at the blood-smeared face of his friend. "Why would you-"

His words were cut short as Zookie lunged forward suddenly, knocking Scott off his feet and to the ground. Almost immediately he bit down into Scott's throat, cutting off the scream that had started there. Scott was beating furiously with his fists against Zookie's small body, but he had locked his arms around Scott and was pulling against him with all his might. The thumping sound of his fists on Zookie's ribs soon started diminishing, and Scott's arms fell by his side, motionless except for the twitching of his fingers.

Marko had started screaming now, a hoarse and angry sound, and he reached for Zookie from behind, trying to lift him off Scott, but only succeeding in lifting the both of them up off the ground instead. He slammed them back down again in frustration, hoping the force would make Zookie release Scott, but it didn't help. The slurping was getting louder now, the sucking and swallowing of blood, and Marko had started crying.

"Help me!" he screamed, looking up at where Colin and Jimmy were staring back at the three of them on the ground.

Jimmy snapped out of the trance he had found himself in, the initial shock of the attack made his legs feel as if they wanted to collapse out from under him, but he sucked in a deep breath of air, filling his lungs to capacity and steadying himself. He looked across at where Colin was standing, still staring at the boys on the ground, not moving, not reacting. Jimmy's hand went slowly to his pocket, and he pulled out the pocket knife he had found in the rucksack the day before. He slipped the blade open slowly, seeing it happen as if he were watching someone else do it. The action seemed surreal and dreamlike, and he would later not remember it clearly at all. He took two quick steps forward and then plunged the blade of the pocket knife into the back of Zookie's exposed skull with all the strength that he could muster!

### Chapter 22

Zookie gave a single long groan and then went quiet and limp. His body was still on top of Scott's. Jimmy knelt beside them, a strange and terrible sensation in his gut as he stared at the young boy's pale dead face. Zookie had ripped Scott's throat open, severing the carotid artery clean through. This artery was the main vessel for supplying the head and neck with oxygenated blood. Scott had bled out instantly. His eyes were still open, wide with fear, but now lifeless and opaque. Zookie was covered in Scott's blood – it had soaked his face, neck and clothes. The pocket knife still protruded from the back of his head, and Jimmy leaned forward and pulled it out. It made a sickening squishy sound as the blade slipped free.

"Oh my God." Marko whispered beside him, and Jimmy looked up at where he stood, hands over his mouth as if stifling a scream. "You killed him!"

Jimmy looked down at the pocket knife in his hands, now wet and sticky and covered in some pink pieces of meat – brains, he assumed. His hands were shaking furiously.

"I didn't know what else to do." He whispered.

Marko put a hand on his shoulder. "You saved our lives, Jimmy."

Jimmy swallowed hard. The words were hard to comprehend.

"I killed Zookie."

"No. You tried to save Scott."

"Zookie was our friend - just a kid like us."

"Not anymore he wasn't." Marko said in a whisper. "Not anymore."

Marko held out his hand, palm upwards, and Jimmy grabbed it and got to his feet. He gingerly wiped the blade of the pocket knife clean and then flipped it closed and placed it back into his pocket. They were both so intently focused on the two dead boys on the ground in front of them, that for a moment they had forgotten that Colin was also there! He was standing on the other side of the bodies, staring at Jimmy and Marko.

Jimmy frowned. No, that wasn't accurate. Colin was staring _past_ them. Jimmy found himself turning his head slowly around to look behind him, expecting to see some sort of creature or beast close enough to breath down his neck, but there was nothing there except the dark and mysterious shapes of the trees and not much else. Looking back at Colin he could just make out the blank expression in his eyes, the same expression he had had earlier when they had returned from the cliff. It appeared he had zoned out again. Jimmy raised his hand and waved it side to side in front of Colin's face, but there was no indication that he either noticed or even chose to notice him.

"What's going on?" Marko asked in a voice that trembled. "Why does he zone out like that? And why would Zookie attack us?"

"I'm not sure."

"Don't lie to me, Jimmy. What happened on the bus this morning? What had the three of you bursting out of there like bats out of hell? It must have been something – you were there. Tell me!"

"It was... it's difficult to..."

"Try!" Marko yelled suddenly, anger and fear now taking over. "If you know what's going on then tell me!"

Jimmy blinked and nodded, pulling his lips tight. "I'm not sure what it was exactly. The stranger on the bus had started... changing, I guess."

"Changing?"

"Yeah, his skin had gotten crusty and hard. Sort of old and mummified, I guess."

"Was he dead?"

Jimmy nodded. "Yes. Dead for sure, but his skin was still alive, and growing."

"I'm confused."

"It's hard to explain. Anyway, he grew this thing out of the top of his head. A stalk, almost, with a bulb on the top - like the way a sugar bean grows when you put it in cotton wool and water."

"So he was turning into a plant?" Marko frowned.

"No, not exactly. It was similar, but it was no plant. The bulb at the top of the stalk on his head burst open and released little spore things – thousands of them – tiny little particles, like dust. We breathed them in and I think that's why Colin and Zookie were... are, acting so weird."

Marko took a step to the side. "What about you? You breathed them in as well, right?"

Jimmy nodded.

"Does that mean you're also going to start acting all weird – and turn into a vampire or cannibal or something?"

"I don't know, Marko." Jimmy sighed, "I haven't felt any different since then, which is why I haven't said anything. I wasn't sure this had anything to do with the bus. I should have been the first one to be affected if it had. I'm still not sure it does!" He found it strange that he had chosen not to argue with Marko over the vampire comment. Was he starting to believe it himself?

"What else could it be?" Marko exclaimed. "There is no other explanation for what's been going on with Colin and Zookie. I think those spores must have invaded their bodies and taken them over. They turned Zookie into some weird bloodsucker – the same way the stranger had been on the bus. And Colin is next!"

They both stared at Colin, who had not moved an inch since before the attack on Scott had occurred. He was still just standing there and staring into the distance.

"What are we going to do with him?" Marko asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean – are we going to kill him?"

Jimmy sucked in a breath. "Are you kidding? We're not killing him! We're not killers!"

"You just killed someone a few minutes ago!"

The words were like knives in Jimmy's ears. "I was only trying to stop Zookie from hurting Scott. I'm not a killer." He hissed.

"I didn't mean it that way." Marko replied, noticing Jimmy's reaction. "I just meant you've done it once before... that it might be easier now."

"Screw you!" Jimmy said, digging into his pocket and pulling the pocket knife out. He tossed it at Marko. "You can keep it. Do it yourself!"

He turned and walked off towards the campsite a few feet away, with Marko short on his heels.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy." Marko said sheepishly. "I wasn't saying you were like that now... I don't know what I was saying, actually!"

Jimmy ignored him as he tossed more pieces of wood into the fireplace, lighting it up with a dash of brake fluid. Soon the warm orange glow of a fire had lit up their camp site again, and Jimmy sat down on the nearby log looking at his feet.

"I'm just scared, man." Marko moaned, sitting down beside Jimmy, tracing a drawing in the sand with the pocket knife. "I'm just scared!"

"I know." Jimmy whispered after a moment, realizing that being angry at Marko was pointless. "We both are."

They smiled at each other briefly and then Marko held out the pocket knife to Jimmy. Jimmy took it, letting the weight of it rest on his fingertips. He slipped it back into his pocket.

"So what happens now?" Marko asked.

"I'm not sure."

There was a groan from beside them, and both boys jumped simultaneously in surprise. To their relief it was only Mr. Klopper who was stirring under the sleeping bags near them. He was trying to sit up, wheezing in effort. Jimmy stood over him and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"No, sir. You have to rest."

"What happened?" the bus driver asked, his voice cracked and raspy.

Jimmy grabbed one of the bottled waters and lifted it up to Mr. Klopper's lips dry lips. He let him drink slowly. The bus driver was pale and sweating and almost choked on the water. When he had quenched his thirst he lay back down again, staring up at the two boys.

"There was an accident." Jimmy replied. "You were hurt. You need to rest. They will be coming to rescue us soon."

"Shoot." Mr. Klopper whispered. "And the other kids? Miss Winslow?"

Jimmy shook his head. "There's just..." he paused for a moment. "Three of us."

Mr. Klopper let out a sob. He coughed violently from the effort it had put on his torso, spitting out blood. Jimmy was certain that one of his cracked or broken ribs had punctured an organ. It was a bad sign.

"How long have I been out?" he groaned softly.

"About a day and a half."

The bus driver shook his head and closed his eyes. A tear rolled down his blood-caked cheek, tracing the deep lines below his eyes and glistening in the light of the fire. He sighed and then opened his eyes, looking up at the brilliant path of stars in the sky above. He stared at them for a long time, blinking away more tears.

"I'm so sorry boys."

"It wasn't your fault." Jimmy replied. "There was nothing you could have done differently. You did your best."

Mr. Klopper smiled, he was missing a few yellow teeth and his gums were bleeding. "Thank you, James."

Jimmy patted his shoulder. "You should get some more sleep."

"I need a cigarette." He groaned.

"No." Jimmy said sternly. "They're gone. You just need to rest."

Mr. Klopper sighed, resignedly. "I am so tired. When I wake up later I'll get us out of here, okay?"

"Sure." Jimmy said, but he had an idea that Mr. Klopper would not make it through the rest of the night. The wound in his neck had stopped bleeding after they had cauterized it, but there was a trickle of blood coming out of his ears, and he was as pale as a ghost in the moonlight. "We know you will, sir."

The bus driver closed his eyes and slept again. His breathing was erratic and shallow. Jimmy covered him again with the sleeping bag and then tossed a few more pieces of wood onto the fire. It was going to be a long night for them. Possibly the longest night they'd ever known.

### Chapter 23

With nothing to eat, and nothing more to do than stare at the fire and occasionally glance back at where Colin still stood in the nearby forest staring at nothing, Jimmy and Marko soon wrapped themselves in their bedding and lay down beside each other, staring up at the Milky Way through the trees. Jimmy had the pocket knife open beneath the covers in his right hand, while Marko had taken the wheel spanner. They were not taking any chances. Things had gone from bad to strange, and now they were ready for whatever came next. The rasping, wet breathing of the bus driver on the opposite side of the fire was a horrible sound, and Jimmy tried to block it out by keeping his mind active. He replayed the events of the past two days in his mind, trying to find an answer for what exactly was going on – why his friends were either dead or turning into... Marko had used the term "vampires". Was that what they were becoming? Blood-sucking creatures like those in the movies? Jimmy's idea of vampires consisted of long fangs, the ability to turn into bats, with super-speed. This real version of vampires, if that is what his friends had become, were nothing like that. They weren't biting delicately into their victims throats – they were ripping them out! Cannibals had started looking more attractive as a description.

This had all started with that stranger in the road. Where had he come from? Who was he? Jimmy traced his hand over the canvas strapping of the camera casing the stranger had given him. Were the answers in the film on that camera? More importantly, would he live long enough to ever find out? It seemed that life expectancy since they had met the stranger had been dramatically shortened. There had been ten healthy and breathing people on that bus before the stranger arrived. Now there were only four left, one of them was seriously injured and drowning slowly in his blood, the other was in a coma of sorts, standing a few feet from them and staring at the trees. Things weren't looking good for the remaining two. Not good at all!

"Do you think we're ever getting out of this valley?" Marko asked beside him.

"We will, I promise."

"I'm never going on a school camp again. Ever."

"As soon as the sun is up we'll head on over to the cliff. The cell phone battery should last long enough for me to make a phone call. By tomorrow afternoon we'll be out of here."

"I can't wait." Marko sighed. "I'm so hungry!"

"Well our supper is ruined." Jimmy nodded with his head towards where Colin was standing. "We could try and catch another one with the crate, I guess?"

"I'll pass. The first thing I'm doing when we get out of here is stopping at McDonald's. I'm ordering a double-cheese Big Mac and a chocolate milkshake. No, make that two!"

Jimmy chuckled. "Sounds good."

"So about those scars on your back... what happened – if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's kind of fuzzy, really. I was young. I think six years old, or something."

"So you don't remember?"

"Not really." Jimmy lied. "I try to ignore them, you know? Move on with life."

"I get that."

"Cool."

"Cool."

"Let's try and get some sleep."

Marko lifted his head to peer across at where Colin was standing. "What about Colin? Do you think he's going to stand like that all night? Should we try and snap him out of it?"

"Not a good idea. He might get pissed."

"What if he attacks us in our sleep?"

Jimmy hadn't really considered that Colin might do something like that. But as he thought about it now, Zookie had become violent after his trance earlier in the day. What if Colin became the same?

"We should take turns to keep watch." Jimmy suggested. "I'll go first. You get some sleep. I'll wake you up when I get drowsy."

"Okay." Marko mumbled, turning over and wrapping himself up in his sleeping bag. It wasn't long before his soft snore was keeping tempo with Mr. Klopper's erratic breathing.

Jimmy stood up and walked over to the log that had become their makeshift chair near the fire. He kept his duvet wrapped around him for extra warmth. The fire was burning strongly, emanating a pleasant heat that quickly heated Jimmy's feet up. He sat staring at it for a long time; the dancing of the flames had an almost mesmerizing effect. In ordinary times, this fire, in this forest, at this time of year, would have been idyllic and peaceful. This should be the type of situation that ingrained happy memories of camping and nature in a child's mind, not the type of memories that were currently being stored! Jimmy's mother had always taught him to have a bright outlook on life, to find the positives between the negatives. He admired her view on things, but in this instance it was going to be difficult to keep that positive spirit.

Jimmy peered over at where Colin stood in the darkness a few feet away, hidden in the shadow of the trees, just a dim shape amongst other darker shapes. He had still not made a movement since the incident with Zookie and Scott. Jimmy could just make out the shapes of the two dead boys on the ground near where Colin stood. Looking at them, remembering them, brought a knot to his stomach. The sound of that knife going into Zookie's head...

Jimmy swallowed hard. He wanted to throw up right now, knew that it would make him feel better, getting that horrible sensation out of his gut, clean himself out from the inside. But it would only be a temporary reprieve. What had been done was done. Nothing was going to change that fact and nothing was going to make him feel better about killing another human being! Worst of all a child his age, with so many years left to live! He brushed the thought away, as if swatting at a pesky fly, and focused instead on the fire again. Time seemed to be standing still and it was only when the fire had almost burned out, and that he needed to repack it with wood again, when he realized that a good couple of hours must have passed. Once the fire was burning brightly again, he shook Marko roughly by the shoulder.

"It's your turn, man. I'm exhausted."

"Okay." The big boy rolled over onto his back, and then stood up groggily. "Damn, it's cold!"

"It must be near midnight." Jimmy added. "Sit by the fire - it will keep you warm."

"Has Colin moved yet?"

"No. He's still just standing there."

Jimmy picked a spot to the right of Mr. Klopper and lay down. The ground, although mostly soft grass, was still incredibly hard and uncomfortable, and poked into his bony hips and ribs. He finally got himself settled as comfortable as was humanly possible, before closing his eyes and dozing off.

### * * *

He was dreaming of a stream. It was similar to the one that he and Marko had discovered earlier, near the cliff, only the water in this one was tinted a rosy colour, quite breathtaking and beautiful against the fresh green of the surrounding grass, trees and leaves. He knelt down to drink from it, and the water tasted like strawberries! He was so thirsty! He drank for what seemed like hours, until eventually his stomach just couldn't take any more, and he collapsed backwards on the bank, blissfully staring up through the trees at the sun as it danced between the leaves. Something was strange though... he had stopped drinking the water, but he could still hear the sounds of swallowing - gulping and sucking. He sat up and looked around, but could not see anybody else nearby. Then he saw it suddenly - on the opposite side of the small stream, hidden in the shadow of a large overhanging tree.

The beast.

It was huge, much bigger than Jimmy was. It had dark brown fur which had been soaked with water as it drank. He couldn't quite make out what species of animal it was, it reminded him in some ways of a wolf, in others of a small bear, and still in others of a monkey - a hybrid of the three, even. It had deeply sunken eyes which were as black as the night, and those eyes were staring at him now across the stream. Its long pink tongue was lapping at the rose-tinted water, slurping it down between its long and vicious-looking fangs. Yet even as Jimmy watched the water was changing color and consistency. It was getting darker and thicker. The wolf-bear-monkey was sucking harder at it now, trying to get the gravy like consistency down its throat. The stream was flowing with a dark-red liquid now... and Jimmy knew what it had become immediately...

Blood!

Still the beast drank and swallowed. Drank and swallowed. Drank and swallowed.

Jimmy wake up! Help! Help! Heeeellllpppp!!!

### * * *

He snapped awake suddenly. The warm banks of the stream now replaced with the cold darkness of the valley. The soft orange glow of the fire was to his right and the drinking and swallowing sounds from his dreams were still here and to his left. He looked over in confusion at the strange shapes at his side, trying to decipher what he was seeing. Everything came into focus with a force that made his heart skip a beat!

Colin was lying on top of Mr. Klopper, his arms wrapped tightly around the adult's body, his face buried in the bus driver's neck. The drinking sounds were coming from there. Jimmy's hand touched something wet and sticky on the ground and he looked down to see that it was fresh blood, pooling alongside him, rolling itself up with soil and tiny blades of grass. He scooted backwards, away from the odd couple. What he and Marko had feared had materialized. Colin had come out of his trance and gone looking for blood! He had found it in the sleeping and critically injured bus driver, and was now satisfying some unknown and inexplicable thirst! Jimmy looked around hastily for Marko. Had he been attacked as well?

"Jimmy!" the voice came from behind the log next to the fireplace.

Jimmy could just see Marko's head sticking out from behind, waving him over. "Get over here!"

"What's going on?" Jimmy asked, as he scampered around the fire and joined Marko in his hiding place.

"I fell asleep!" Marko moaned. "I'm sorry, Jimmy! I woke up when Mr. Klopper started groaning and Colin was already on top of him! I didn't know what to do!"

"Holy crap!" Jimmy whispered.

"Should we do something?"

Jimmy shook his head. "It's too late, man. Klopper is dead by now!"

"Why is this happening?"

"I'm not sure, but it's not good!"

"No shit!"

The slurping sounds of swallowing stopped suddenly and both boys froze, holding their breath, unsure what to expect next. Colin twisted his head away from Mr. Klopper's throat and looked at the log where Jimmy and Marko were hiding, as if he could see them right through it! His eyes were so dark and sunken that they almost didn't recognize him anymore! He gave a low growl that was completely animal like and so out of context to the size of him, and the sound of it sent shivers down Jimmy's spine. Colin stayed in that position for a few more moments, just staring at the two boys, before he placed his forehead against Mr. Klopper's chest and then lay there as if he had fallen asleep.

Jimmy watched the rise and fall of Colin's back as he breathed in and out. After a minute or so he stopped moving altogether.

And then they were alone.

### Chapter 24

The rest of the night was spent huddled next to the fire, back to back, not speaking nor finding the need to speak. As dawn approached and the sky started getting lighter, the imposing shape of the mountain before them seemed to lean over them, bearing down on their presence, threatening and cold. Behind them the tall trees of the Amatola crawled out of the darkness like sneaky bandits, slowly appearing one by one, taking shape and forming into a cohesive army of ancient wood and leaves. Surrounded by the natural wonders of this valley, Jimmy had never felt so alone or lost in his life. Nine people had died in front of him in the last two days. Nine people had stopped breathing. Why was he still alive? How had God made his choice when planning this mass taking of souls? Had He drawn straws? Rolled a dice? Had Jimmy and Marko's names come up randomly, or was there some sort of purpose to all this? Jimmy needed to believe that there was a reason behind everything that had happened thus far, it would be the only thing that made any sense at all.

"Hey Marko." He said, and it was the first words they'd spoken in five hours.

"Yeah."

"I was thinking about that double cheese Big Mac. Sounds like a great idea."

"Hmmm." Marko replied. "I could eat two right now!"

"Do you think we should get to that cliff and make that phone call now?"

"Do bears crap in the woods?" Marko asked sarcastically, "I'm ready to go home, man."

Jimmy stood up and tossed his duvet to one side. The campsite seemed so quiet and deserted, and he was trying his best not to look at or think about all the bodies around them.

Five in the bus. Two at the edge of the woods. Two next to the fire.

The thoughts flashed through his mind in a split second, leaving behind the slightest trace of their existence. Jimmy picked up one of the empty backpacks and started packing it with the last three bottles of water, the brake fluid, lighter, cell phone and the wheel spanner. He walked over to the makeshift bird-trap and undid the rope he had made from t-shirts, rolling it up and placing it in the bag as well. He strapped on the stranger's camera case and then zipped the bag up. He tied two semi-clean rolled up sleeping bags to the back of the backpack and then hoisted it onto his back.

"Are you ready?"

"I just need to pee." Marko said. He was still seated next to the fire, his back to the bodies nearby. "I've been holding it in all night."

"Sure. I'll wait."

Marko got to his feet with some effort, weakened by lack of food. He headed for the nearby trees, his feet dragging on the wet and dewy grass, his shoulders hunched.

Jimmy waited near the fire, warming his hands from the fresh crispness of the early morning. He had already decided they would not to return to this campsite. When he got hold of someone on the phone he would tell them where to find him and Marko. The area below the cliff and near the stream would make a better camp... besides, the bodies in the bus were starting to rot now; he would catch a whiff of decomposition every time the wind breezed from that direction. This campsite was becoming unpleasant \- more so by the minute!

"Hurry up, Marko!" he yelled over his shoulder, staring at the flames in the dying fire.

His hands were filthy. He stared at them for a long time, wondering when last he had even seen them this dirty! His fingernails were black under the tips, with a line of dirt tracing the shape of the nail on his finger. The sand and sweat had mixed together, making his hands dry and old-looking. He flexed his fingers into fists, marveling at the little cracks that appeared through the unknown stains on the back of his hands. Some of them were mud stains. Others, most of them, he guessed, were dried blood.

"Marko!" he looked around impatiently at the point where Marko had gone to relieve himself, but there was nobody there. His heart skipped a beat momentarily, and he had almost begun to convince himself that he was now truly alone in these woods, when he caught a glimpse of Marko's shirt through the trees a short distance from where he had been a few moments earlier. Jimmy stood up and headed towards where the boy now stood, and it was only when he got closer that he realized where he was! This was where Zookie had attacked Scott. He saw Marko standing over the bodies of the two boys, staring down at them. "Marko! Come on, let's go."

"Check this out!"

"What is it?"

"Come look!"

"We don't have time for..." Jimmy's words trailed off when he saw the shape of the bodies on the ground. It wasn't just the fact that he was looking at the boy he had killed with a pocket knife the night before; it was something else... something he had seen before. Something that meant trouble!

"Is this what you were talking about?" Marko asked, frowning at Jimmy and then leaning forward towards Zookie to get a closer look.

"No! Don't!" Jimmy warned, trying to stop Marko from getting any closer, but it was too late, as at that very moment, as if sensing his presence, the small bulb at the top of the stalk of dry skin that was growing from the back of Zookie's head exploded and the air around them filled with thousands of sparkling particles. Marko had been only a foot away from their release and he immediately started coughing as he breathed them in!

"What the..." Marko coughed violently, stepping back in surprise.

"Relax!" Jimmy said, grabbing him by the arm and leading him away. "You'll be fine. It's nothing."

"Nothing? Are you serious? Are those the things that changed Zookie and Colin? Am I next?"

"No." Jimmy replied. "You're not going to die. I breathed them in back at the bus, and I'm fine. It's just a coincidence"

"Coincidence?" Realization suddenly dawned on Marko, and he pulled his arm loose from Jimmy's grip. "Let me remind you of how this works so far. The stranger released that dust back on the bus, which you, Colin and Zookie all inhaled, right?"

Jimmy nodded.

"And then Colin and Zookie both lost their minds and went into a trance, before they both attacked somebody else?"

Jimmy found himself playing with a leaf that hung above his head, trying to avoid eye contact with Marko.

"And now Zookie has released the same dust, which I breathed in?"

"We don't know if it's the dust that caused them to act that way!" Jimmy objected. "I breathed them in too, remember? There's nothing wrong with me!"

"Oh come on!" Marko wailed. "How else do you explain what Zookie and Colin did? They ripped out the throats of our friends, the same way the stranger ripped out Miss Winslow's throat! That's no coincidence! And now Zookie's growing the same stalk out of his head... how can that be... hold on!"

He dashed past Jimmy suddenly, back towards the camp, and Jimmy raced after him. "Marko! What are you doing?"

"I'm checking something!" Marko yelled, as he slid to his knees beside where Mr. Klopper and Colin were laying. He quickly rubbed his hands over the back of Colin's head, and then took a half step back, almost losing his balance. "Oh shit!"

"What is it?"

"Feel for yourself!" he whispered, pointing at Colin.

Jimmy leaned forward and ran his hand over the back of Colin's head. It was there. Unmistakable. Still in the early stages of formation, but it was there. The stalk was only about a centimeter long, but it was _there_!

"Do you call that coincidence?" Marko asked, his face pale. "My God, I'm going to die! I'm going to turn into a freaking vampire, kill someone, and then frikking die!"

"You don't know that for sure." Jimmy replied. "I told you - I breathed those things in as well, and I'm okay!"

"Maybe it's just some sort of delayed reaction for you!" Marko said. "Maybe you have a slow metabolism or something. You are quite small for your age."

"It should have been the opposite then." Jimmy protested. "But we can't just give up now! We still have to get to that cliff and make that phone call! Maybe we can be saved and treated for... whatever this is."

"Twelve hours." Marko whispered, barely audible.

"What's that?"

"Twelve hours." He said, looking Jimmy squarely in the eyes. "That's how long I've got to live!"

### Chapter 25

"What do you mean?" Jimmy asked.

"It took twelve hours from when Colin and Zookie got infected to when they attacked us and died! That means I've only got twelve hours left!"

"You don't know that for sure!" Jimmy said. "And even if it were true, that could be enough time! It's an hour and a bit to the cliff. Once I make the phone call we could be on a rescue helicopter within the next few hours! Come on man! I need your help! We need to stay strong and keep believing!"

Marko stared at Jimmy for a moment. He placed his hand on Jimmy's shoulder and leaned his forehead on it. "I don't want to kill you, Jimmy! You're the best friend I've ever had, even though we only just got to know each other properly! I'm telling you man, it's the truth! I don't want to go crazy later and rip your throat out! Not yours!"

Jimmy felt touched by the comment that Marko had made. He could not ever remember anyone calling him their best friend in his entire life! He had always been an outsider, the kid that sat to the side of the school fields and ate his lunch alone. He was the kid that never participated in after school sports or activities because he did not want to be remembered or noticed for anything! The kid that never tried to make friends with anyone! And now he had done just that! And he couldn't deny that he felt the same way about Marko. Poor Marko who was teased for his weight, and who was always the last one selected on any team, the same one who had seen Jimmy's scars and gotten past them without question! That Marko! His only true friend!

"Hey." Jimmy looked Marko directly in the eyes. "None of that's going to happen, okay? I promise! You have to trust me on this! Please?"

The fight seemed to have gone out of Marko, and his shoulders slumped as he took a step backwards and dried his moist eyes. "Okay. I do, Jimmy. I trust you."

"Okay." Jimmy smiled. "Let's get going, then!"

He waited as Marko changed into a clean shirt, an oversized black t-shirt with a bright yellow smiley face on the front, before he adjusted the weight of the backpack across his shoulders, and then led the way into the forest, trying not to look down at the bodies of his schoolmates as he passed them. It was already an hour after dawn and the day was warming up quickly, although some clouds had peppered the sky for the first time in two days. It was cooler beneath the canopy of trees though, almost cold in places, and for some reason the forest was reminding Jimmy of a tomb. He had been to his family tomb with his mother when he was young, and he remembered the coldness of it, the dead air inside. That's what the forest felt like to him now.

He and Marko discussed the strange stalk of skin that had grown from the top of Zookie, Colin and the stranger's heads, trying to decipher what it was, or how it had come to be. They theorized mostly, and as was to be expected most of their theories involved fantastic versions of reality – from vampire viruses, to alien invasions and even a zombie attack! Ultimately they had to agree that they had no idea what had caused it, or where it had come from. The only thing they knew for certain was that the stranger had brought it to them. The true origin of everything weird that had happened was as dead as he was, back in the bus.

The sight of the cliff came into view through the treetops sooner than Jimmy had expected, and he guessed it had something to do with the fact that they had been so engrossed in their conversation that they had not noticed how much time had passed as they walked. It wasn't long before they were standing at the base of it again, at the place where the cell phone had fallen and broken the first time.

"We can set up a camp down here." Jimmy said. "It's high enough at the top to signal to our rescuers when they come, and easy enough to find through the forest."

Marko nodded. "That's cool. I wasn't keen on going back to the other camp anyway."

"Grab this." Jimmy handed the backpack to Marko to hold. He unzipped it and dug inside for the cell phone. The plaster repair job had seemed to work so far, and the phone was still intact. He placed it in his pocket. "I'm going to head up, okay?"

"Wait!" Marko was clenching the bag really tightly. "Can I come with you? I don't want to be alone down here!"

"It's a tough climb. I don't think you'd make it. No offence."

"I'm scared, Jimmy."

Jimmy understood why Marko felt that way, he felt it as well. There had been too much death around them in the past two days, and it hung in the air like the moldy stink of wet clothing. Add to that the fact that Marko had also breathed in the 'spores', and had seen what became of those who had done so previously, and suddenly that fear was doubled.

"I've got a plan." He smiled, patting Marko on the back.

He walked over to the nearest tree and scanned the branches for a moment. He selected a branch that was the thickness of his two thumbs together, and then hung on it, snapping it off with some effort. The wood was wet and green, but it would be perfect. He broke a few thinner branches off as well, and then took them over to a nearby rock and pulled out the pocket knife. He sat down and began cutting and chopping away at the ends.

"What are you doing" Marko asked, curious.

"You'll see."

After several minutes Jimmy had trimmed and shaped five branches in total, four of them slightly shorter and thinner than the fifth one. He then asked for the backpack and removed the hand-made rope. He selected a section of it and cut it off. As he knotted the ends to the longer branch, bending it slightly to get the rope across both ends, Marko's eyes widened.

"Is that a bow?"

Jimmy nodded, smiling. "My grandfather taught me how to make them."

He proceeded to tie the rope as taught as he could, and then sharpened the ends of the shorter branches, which were fairly straight. By the time he had finished he had four pointy arrows.

"What about flights?" Marko asked.

"There's another way." Jimmy replied. "Follow me!"

They made their way through the nearby forest towards the stream they had found the day before. Jimmy knelt at the edge of it, digging his hands into the clay-like consistency of the mud at the water-line. He shaped the reddish clay into small bun-shaped balls, which he wrapped tightly around the arrows, a few inches from the pointy tips. The clay added weight to the front of the arrows. He then cut grooves into the opposite ends so that they would fit into the rope which now formed the bow. The clay was really excellent for the job, and had already started drying by the time he had finished the grooves.

"Wow." Marko smiled. "That's awesome."

"Shall we give it a try?"

Marko nodded eagerly. "You first!"

Jimmy picked up the bow and held it in front of him, taking one of the arrows and slipping the cut groove into the rope. He rested the front end of it on top of the hand which held the bow, and then pulled back with all his might. There was a lot of tension on the rope due to the wetness of the branch he had used for the bow, and it took almost all his strength to get the arrow pulled back to his chin. He aimed at a nearby bush and let go.

The arrow, weighted by the clay, flew much further than Jimmy had anticipated, slicing through the bush with ease and bursting out the other side, pegging into the soft ground beyond.

"Awesome!" Marko yelled excitedly! "It works!"

"Here." Jimmy handed the bow to Marko, who took it awkwardly. He showed Marko how to hold it properly, how to feed the arrow into the rope, and then how to aim and how far to pull the rope back. Marko's first attempt was horrible, the arrow never leaving his fingers, and he shot the second arrow over the top of the bush, but on his third attempt hit the little bush square on.

"You can practice with it, while I climb." Jimmy smiled. "If anything comes out of these forests you shoot it!"

Marko nodded. "I can do that! Thanks Jimmy."

They made their way back to the base of the cliff, Marko excitedly running ahead, aiming the bow at everything he could see. It had gotten much colder in the past hour or so, Jimmy could feel it on his bare arms. The humidity of the forest was gone, replaced by icy-like fingers of air that brushed over them every time a slight breeze stirred the trees. Looking up he could see the blue of the sky had been replaced by a dark gray instead. They reached the cliff and Jimmy immediately headed straight for the face of it.

"Good luck, man." Marko said as Jimmy got his first handhold in the rocks. "Don't drop the phone again."

"I won't." Jimmy smiled. "We have one more shot at this. The battery is almost dead. I don't think we're going to be able to switch it on again after this anyway."

"Even more reason to be careful, then." Marko added solemnly.

Jimmy made his way up the cliff. His fingers still ached from his climb the day before, and it was a lot more difficult finding solid grip, as every time he placed weight on his fingers they sent shards of pain up his hands. He took his time though, ensuring he was always holding on with one hand and foot before moving the next one. He had only gone up about five meters when he felt the first icy drop hit his cheek. It was a huge drop of water, actually stinging his face. Then another drop hit his arm, and then two more. Soon they were coming down like bullets, hard and fast!

The rain soaked into the cracks in the cliff face, turning tiny bits of dry sand into slippery mud, and Jimmy was finding it more and more difficult to get a good grip. He went up another meter, but almost lost his gripping twice! Looking upwards into the bucketing rain, he could not even see the top of the cliff! He lay his head against the rocks, this was not his day! He sighed and then lunged upwards for the next crevice, but his fingers slipped out immediately, at the same time that his foot lost its grip on the ledge below. He tried desperately to keep his balance, but it was too late and he found himself clutching at air as he plummeted downwards!

### Chapter 26

It must have been God's will that he narrowly missed the protruding rocks and boulders on the ground below, landing instead in a relatively soft spot of ground, made even more soft by the pelting rain. It still hurt like hell, though! He took the brunt of the impact on his back, hard enough to wind him momentarily. Marko must have seen him fall, because Jimmy had barely hit the ground when Marko was at his side, soaked through from head to toe.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned for the safety of his friend.

"I'm fine - I just need a minute to get my breath back." Jimmy wheezed.

Marko helped him up by the arm, and they stumbled over to a nearby overhang in the rocks, a semi-reprieve from the rain. Luckily Jimmy had not landed on the cellphone in his pocket, which was still intact after he pulled it out to check on it. As they cowered in the hollow beneath the cliff, staring out at the wall of water that had suddenly decided to come pouring down from the heavens, Jimmy was silently cursing to himself.

"We shouldn't have wasted time on the bow and arrows!" he muttered. "I would have been at the top by now!"

"It's just as well," Marko added. "You would have been stuck up there... or perhaps fallen from higher up! You'd be dead!"

What Marko was saying made some sense to Jimmy, and he had to agree with him, but it wasn't doing much to stop that feeling of frustration. Now they would have to wait it out until the rain stopped and the cliff was dry enough to attempt another climb. That could be hours from now! If Marko was right, they only had nine hours left before he would change the way Colin and Zookie had. Jimmy had to believe that it was possible that would happen, based on what he had already seen with the other two friends. If there was one thing he was more afraid of than his best friend trying to rip his throat out, it was of being alone in this enormous forest for even one more night. He could handle almost anything else, except that!

"When do you think it will stop?" Marko asked.

"I'm not sure - it could be a while."

"Damn! I'm so hungry man! I haven't eaten in more than a day, and have you seen the size of me?"

Jimmy chuckled. "Yeah, don't worry. You should have enough reserves there to keep you going for a couple of weeks. It's me you should worry about! I'm all skin and bones already!"

"That doesn't change the size of my stomach, man! I could eat a horse right now..."

Both boys fell silent at the comment, realizing the irony of it even as the words were spoken. It was even more relevant due to the fact that there wasn't a horse to be seen for miles. They sat in silence for a while, just staring out at the forest, which had gone from a brilliant green and yellow landscape a short while ago, to a grey and gloomy portrait of their current situation instead. The rain did not seem to be letting up, and Jimmy realized they might have to hunker down and prepare for a long day. Luckily the little alcove they found themselves in was mostly dry, and the overhang above them kept almost all the rain out, unless the wind gusted it in occasionally. It was also big enough that they could stretch out and lay side by side, with their feet just reaching the opposite end.

"I'm going to rest up." Jimmy said, and Marko nodded.

"Me too. At least I'm not thinking about McDonald's when I'm sleeping."

Staring up at the ceiling of their little cave, with Marko blocking the light and some of the wayward drops of rain with his big frame in the doorway, Jimmy tried to focus on nothing else except the sound of the rain. It was strangely mesmerizing, and he soon found his eyes drooping closed.

### * * *

Jimmy wasn't sure exactly how long he had been asleep, but as he was waking up he realized two things were different. Firstly, it had stopped raining - he could tell by the absence of the sound of dripping water, and secondly that he was alone in the alcove. Marko had been blocking out the cool air and occasional water droplets, but Jimmy now found himself staring out into the nearby forest instead of into Marko's bulky frame. He sat up groggily, groaning at the mild ache in his lower back which had come from a combination of his earlier fall, and his awkward sleeping position, no doubt. He crawled out from under the overhang on all fours, dusting himself off as he stood up. There was no sign of Marko anywhere. The recently made bow and its four arrows were lying to one side of the overhang, and the backpack was propped up against the side of the cliff. Jimmy hoisted the bag on to his shoulder, and then picked up the bow and arrows. He called out for Marko, but there was no reply.

Judging by the position of the sun, which had once again peeked its head out from between the clouds, Jimmy guessed it must have been past midday already. It seemed the rain had stopped some time ago, as the ground was already drying up under his feet, and the cliff face behind him had become patchy with dry spots. He called out for Marko again, but his call went unanswered. Jimmy pulled out the cell phone from his pocket and stared at the dead screen. Time was running out, he realized, and he needed to get to the top of the cliff and make that call! If he waited much longer it would be getting dark, and any rescue attempts might only begin the next day! He shouted one last time for Marko, before giving up and assuming he had wandered off to the stream for water or something. After scanning the trees quickly, he turned and faced the cliff instead, looking up the sheer face of it, at the point where it leveled out in the sunshine above the tree tops.

He set the backpack down on a nearby boulder, leaning the bow and arrows up against it. He wouldn't need them for the climb. As he reached up for the first crack in the face of the cliff, he felt a renewed sense of energy. The rest had done him good. Last night had been a mostly sleepless affair. It felt good to be completely awake again! He had just reached up for the second hand-hold in the rocks when he felt something grab his leg. He looked down in surprise.

"Marko!"

His friend was holding onto his left ankle, looking at it with his head cocked to the side. He did not respond when his name was called.

"Hey!" Jimmy said. "Let go, man. I've got to make that call!"

The second time Marko did not respond, Jimmy felt his heart skip a beat. Something felt weird here... off even. He calculated the hours in his head quickly and they weren't adding up. It had only been a maximum of six hours since Marko had breathed the dust in this morning. By their figuring, it had taken twelve hours for Colin and Zookie to become infected by the dust on the bus, so Marko had to be far from that stage, right? Looking down at his catatonic friend now, Jimmy wasn't sure of anything.

"Marko!" he yelled, trying to kick his leg free from the grip that the big boy had it in, but he hardly managed to move it at all. His fingers were also slipping by then, trying to support the weight of his body. Just before they let go completely, he placed his free foot against the face of the rock and pushed himself away from the cliff. The action sent him over Marko's head, gravity doing the necessary and yanking his leg free from Marko's grasp. He landed awkwardly on the ground, but jumped up immediately and faced his friend.

"What are you doing!" he started yelling, but his words tapered off into a whisper as he saw Marko's eyes. _Those_ eyes! His mind started racing furiously, how had the change come so quickly? What were these spore-things doing to make everyone else around him act so strangely? Why he was still not affected? All these thoughts quickly vanished though, when he saw the expression on Marko's face change.

He _smiled._

If Jimmy thought about it carefully though, he would have changed that to _sneered._ The blank expression that had become so familiar lately had vanished for just a moment, long enough to be replaced with a grin that was somehow more sinister than no expression at all. Jimmy took a step backwards in surprise.

"Hey buddy." He said softly, his voice shaking with fear. "What's up?"

" _Mac..."_

Marko said the word from the back of his throat. It was as if his lips were sealed by some otherworldly power, and he had to project them the way a ventriloquist might do with a dummy. It was a low and guttural sound.

"What?" Jimmy asked, confused.

" _Don..."_

Jimmy shook his head. "I don't understand."

" _Ald..."_

Jimmy tried to make sense of the strange language Marko seemed to be speaking, and as he repeated the words to himself, he suddenly realized what Marko was trying to say!

Mac. Don. Ald.

McDonalds!

The grin--sneer had disappeared from Marko's face by now, and was replaced once again by the blank stare and the dead eyes. Marko tilted his head to the side, staring at Jimmy as if he were an alien from another planet. Then, without warning, he lunged forward, arms outstretched and teeth bared and aimed at Jimmy's throat!

Jimmy ducked under his outstretched arms and bolted past his friend, headed straight for the imposing face of the cliff, leaping at it from a distance away already, his fingers managing to catch the first available hand-hold. He searched anxiously for a foot hold, finding one just as Marko had turned and started racing towards him. With all the strength he could muster, Jimmy clambered up the cliff as quickly as he could, trying not to look down and lose his concentration. For what seemed an eternity he climbed, muscles aching, fingers bleeding, knees scraped, until suddenly and without warning he was over the top and onto the ledge where the bird had frightened him the day before. The sudden arrival of the top of the cliff had caught him by surprise, and he lay on his back for a moment, staring up at the sky that was now more blue than gray. He would have continued to lie there even longer, had the thought of the cell phone not flashed through his mind, forcing him to sit up.

He looked down towards the base of the cliff, but Marko was nowhere to be seen. Jimmy scanned the area from his birds-eye view, but came up empty. He was just about to move away from the edge when he heard a sound to his right. He leaned over and could just make out the shape of his friend through the trees, as he clambered up the lower end of the cliff, headed for the natural steps which Jimmy had used to get down from here the day before!

"Oh God!" he whispered, realizing it would be mere minutes before the blood-thirsty boy would reach him, and that he was trapped on this ledge with no way out except straight down the face of the cliff again.

He pulled the cell phone out of his pocket and held the power-on button in. If it had seemed to take long before, it was taking an eternity now! By the time the familiar logo and then picture of a dog had appeared, Marko was already on the steps and clambering up towards where Jimmy sat. Jimmy punched the numbers furiously:

0. 8. 3. 5. 9. 7. 4. 2...

As he dialed the last two numbers and held the phone up to his ear, he prayed with every ounce of his being that the call would be answered. The ringing sound in his ear sent a flood of relief over him, but after the third ring, he started panicking.

On his right, Marko had approached to within forty feet of him, and in his ear the cell phone sent a warning signal that the battery was about to die...

Beep. Beep. Beep.

### Chapter 27

Amanda Hoyer loved Sundays for two reasons; firstly, it was usually the only day of the week that she didn't have to work and could spend time at home with her son, and secondly, all the reruns of her favorite TV series were shown on Channel 104 in the afternoon, which meant she got to put her feet up and relax with a glass of red wine and sometimes a box of tissues, while Jimmy played computer games in his room later in the day. The exception this Sunday was that Jimmy was not home. Not having him around felt strange. She couldn't remember a weekend in the past twelve years that they hadn't spent together! When the school camp had come up, and she had been convinced by the school's guidance counselor, Mr. Hale, that attending the camp would be a great opportunity for Jimmy, one that might help him adjust to what he termed a "normal" childhood experience, she had been apprehensive to say the least.

She had to admit that she had also been peeved at Mr. Hale's observations originally, but after thinking about it later she began to realize that there was some truth in his words. Jimmy had been a loner ever since the incident with his father. For the past six years he had been under her protective motherly wing, shielded from the dangers of the real world, or the hurt that could come from having meaningful relationships with anyone. She had always thought she was protecting him, but perhaps she had really been doing the opposite? She wasn't going to be around forever, certainly not for as long as Jimmy would be, and sooner or later he would have to learn to cope with disappointment and loss on his own. But it was so damned difficult! She had stressed herself to a point where she was having mental arguments in her mind, weighing the pro's and con's of allowing her son out from under her watchful eye for a whole week!

A week! It seemed like an eternity for her. She had cried herself to sleep on Friday night, the first night after Jimmy had left. Partly because it was their first night apart in his entire life, but mostly because she knew that he might return as a different person. That frightened her the most. She knew her son; she knew his secrets, his dreams, his wishes. They had a very open relationship, a close relationship, more akin to siblings than parent/child. This camp might change Jimmy, make him more independent, more self-sufficient, more popular even - all of these were _good_ things, she knew that, but they also meant that a bond between them would be altered, and that once it was changed, it might never be the same again!

By Saturday morning, however, she had convinced herself that everything was going to be okay, and that Jimmy would return exactly the same as when he'd left. After all, how could twelve years of love, nurturing and bonding be wiped away after a seven day summer holiday camp? It seemed ridiculous and she had started making herself feeling better.

Every second Saturday was her weekend on at work. She worked for Puzzle Palace, a puzzle, toy and educational game store in Vincent, a bustling suburb a few kilometers from East London's city center. She had been employed there as a debtor's clerk originally, but over the past two years she had morphed into the Assistant Manager/Personal Assistant for the owner, Craig Whitehead. He was a bastard. There was no less colorful way to describe him - a hardheaded, rude, obnoxious and self-centered individual, who also happened to be a brilliant businessman. He took pride in his store, respected the fact that so many stand alone businesses would often not see the end of the first two years, and invested all of his energy and passion into it, taking no prisoners, and certainly no crap, from anyone including his staff. One would have thought that the combination of a hard-ass boss and a soft, emotionally scarred, single mother would never have worked out, but Amanda absolutely loved her job because of it!

It was Craig's temperament and attitude toward business that had allowed her to flourish and grow with the company, basically from start-up. She could identify with the need to put up strict walls between work and pleasure, between friends and customers, between family and income. She had been doing that for years, ever since she had married Geoff, Jimmy's father and her now ex-husband. Their relationship had been complicated, to say the least. He had been extremely jealous, had the shortest fuse known to mankind and a violent streak that he had hidden well from her during the courting phase. Once she had fallen pregnant, and had, by that time, virtually written off her parents due to his insistence, she was trapped and he began treating her like the caged and people-shy animal he had nurtured her to be. As property! Those years after Jimmy was born and before the divorce, were years she wished never to see again! If they hadn't produced Jimmy, she may have wished to have never experienced them in the first place - but he had been a reminder that even after the darkest of storms, there is a rainbow that follows.

She also knew that it was Jimmy, ironically, who gave her the strength to eventually get out of that doomed relationship as well. She had a suspicion that Geoff had bargained on the birth of their son being the cement that would keep her trapped under his clutches, that he had finally achieved what he had set out to do in his crazy mind, but it had the opposite effect instead. With a defenseless child under her wing, Amanda started opening her eyes to his insanity. Where before she had worried about keeping Geoff happy, her focus had changed to giving Jimmy a chance at a real life instead. The love she had initially felt for Jimmy's father soon turned into a deep hatred. She detested him with all of her being by the time Jimmy was only four years old. Looking back now, she still could not believe it took another two years for her to eventually leave! But that was the power that Geoff had over her. Power that he abused by using fear as a weapon, and his fists as motivation. She had no doubt that she and Jimmy were lucky to be alive. If she had stayed with Geoff for longer, they might not have been!

Leaving her crazy husband had been an easy decision in the end, but a truly difficult challenge, it turned out. She was still young, a single mother, but she had zero experience at anything besides being Geoff's wife. She had turned down the opportunity offered by her parents to attend University after high school to be with him instead. When he was finally out of the picture she had to start rebuilding her life and confidence from scratch. She could only thank God that her parents were the people they were. They took her and Jimmy in immediately, without hesitation – all the pain and suffering she had caused them over the years completely forgotten and forgiven. Her father was a dairy farmer and owned a farm a few kilometers from East London along the coast. They spent the next two years living there, rebuilding their lives again. By the end of that second year she had regained a fraction of her previous self, enough to attempt getting a job and becoming independent and self-supportive.

Her father had also encouraged her to lay criminal charges against Geoff for what he had done to her and Jimmy, which she had eventually done. After almost a year of court appearances he was eventually sentenced to prison for twelve years, charged with attempted murder and grievous bodily harm. It was only once he was behind bars that she started finding the courage to become a part of society again. It took almost the same length of time for Jimmy's nightmares to stop.

A few years down the line and everything had started changing. Amanda had found a steady job approving small loans at a local financial institution, and Jimmy had started normal school again, after being home-schooled by her parents for the first three grades. It had taken another year before they had made the decision to move off the farm and into their own apartment. It was only when her parents eventually pulled out of the parking lot, waving goodbye, and she had closed and locked the door behind them, turning to admire her and Jimmy's humble new home, when she finally felt like she was becoming the Amanda she had once been.

It was around about that time that she heard about the vacancy at Puzzle Palace. She went for the interview, a fraction more confident in herself than she had been previously, and got the job immediately. Mr. Whitehead had been looking for someone fresh who could learn from the ground up, and he had found that in Amanda. He had asked her only once in the past two years about her past, and after seeing the look in her eyes, had never done so again. She had appreciated that the most! And it had been the reason she had done everything she could to ensure that he never regretted his decision to hire her. He would never admit it to her, of course, but she had an idea she had become indispensable to his business. She treated that assumption with respect, of course. She knew what it was like to be disappointed after trusting the wrong person, and she was determined that Craig would never have to one day feel that way about hiring her.

Her parents died in a car accident the same year Jimmy started Grade Six. Losing them had sent him back into his shell for a long time. She could still see the reflection of his damaged soul in his eyes occasionally, but over time those moments had become less and less frequent. Eventually they had begun living normal lives, as normal people, with thoughts of the man who had almost killed them tucked away into the furthest recesses of their minds, comfortable with the fact that he was locked away behind high walls and metal bars and would be for a long time yet to come, and comforted by the idea that they were being watched over daily by the spirits of her parents, in some way.

She was just about to take a sip of her wine when her cell phone rang beside her. She still jumped every time the phone rang. It was an instinctive fear-fuelled reaction. She managed to spill some of it onto her new white T-shirt and silently cursed under her breath at her clumsiness. Concerned with the stain the wine may leave, she quickly rushed to the kitchen and dabbed her T-shirt with a dish towel. She headed back for the phone and picked it up, frowning at the screen which displayed the caller identity. She did not recognize the number. She was always skeptical about answering calls from people that weren't listed in her phonebook; it was a remnant of the mistrust that Geoff had left with her as a parting gift. She was about to press the call dead, when something told her to take it instead. She picked up the call and held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

She could hear the sound of wind across the mouthpiece on the other end of the line, and what sounded like someone crying.

"Hello?" She said, a little louder this time, and then a little annoyed. "Can I help?"

She started lifting the phone away from her ear to hang up, when she heard the voice on the other end - a voice laced with a once-buried fear that she had not heard in years!

"Mommy, I'm the last one! Come get me ple---"

The call ended there.

"Jimmy! _Jimmy_!"

There was nothing, just the dead air between her ear and the earpiece. Amanda stared at the phone, trying to decipher what her son had been trying to say, but she soon realized that the words weren't as important as what the terror behind the tiny voice was screaming instead!

### Chapter 28

Amanda felt the panic set in immediately. It was almost natural, an instinctive reaction that she had developed whenever it came to her son. For a moment the room swung wildly in front of her, causing her to grab onto the closest wall. Her vision had blurred and a knot had formed in her stomach that made her want to throw up. Something was terribly wrong, she just knew it! The moment of disorientation passed quickly though, and she sat down on the couch, staring at the silent phone in her hands. Two things bothered her about the call she had just received; the fear in Jimmy's voice, and the way he had addressed her. For the past two years at least, Jimmy had stopped calling her 'Mommy', choosing instead to use the more grown-up version of 'Mom' instead. Hearing him use the other version immediately made her think back to the days that Jimmy would still woke from a nightmare every night, terrified from the dream of the shadow in the window, or in the closet, or under the bed – the shadow that was always in the shape of a man! This, more than anything, told her that the call had been serious! Very serious!

She brought up the call list on her cell phone and then dialed the last number. The call immediately went straight to voicemail, an automated message which gave her no clue as to who the owner of the phone that Jimmy had called from might have been. This was even more disturbing, as she had now hit a wall with regards to getting hold of her son. She immediately realized how reckless she had been in forcing Jimmy to go on this camp, and even worse, how unorganized she was in keeping track of him! She had no idea who to call in order to find out what was going on! Two years ago she would have had the phone numbers of the camp, the teachers who accompanied the kids, the driver of the bus and even the school principal, because that was how protective she had been over Jimmy! No, that wasn't quite accurate. She would never have let him go on the camp in the first place! This time around she had forced herself to allow him the space he needed, foolishly thinking that it would be the right thing to do for both of them! How stupid could she be! The sensation of wanting to vomit returned, and she placed her hand over her mouth, gasping for air.

It was a Sunday, as well! The school was closed and she had no idea how to reach anybody who might have an idea of how to contact the camp at Hobbiton-on-Hogsback, over one hundred kilometers away. She ran through the rest of the phone numbers in her cell phone's contact list, desperately trying to stumble across any number that might lead her to contact with her son again, and she almost cried with joy when Mr. Hale's name flashed across the screen! She had saved his cell phone number after one of the meetings with him a few months ago, when he had offered it to her in case she ever needed his help with Jimmy after hours, although she suspected his intentions had been less than noble. She had never used it, and right now it was her only lifeline! She dialed the number with shaky fingers, and waited anxiously for a reply on the other end.

After seven or eight rings she started feeling the panic set in again, but then thankfully a familiar male voice picked up the call on the other end.

"Arthur Hale."

"Mr. Hale!" she cried, sobbing with relief, "Thank God!"

"Yes? Who is this?"

"It's Amanda. Amanda Hoyer. James' mother."

"Miss Hoyer. How are you? Is everything okay?"

"No." Amanda replied shakily. "I'm worried about my son. I need to get hold of someone at the camp in Hogsback. Do you have any numbers for them?"

"Miss Hoyer." Arthur Hale paused. "We discussed this, remember? Giving Jimmy some space to grow emotionally is a good thing. I understand that it might be difficult for you, but you need to allow him that space. Separation-anxiety is no fun, I get that, but-"

"Listen!" Amanda felt an anger float up through her. "This has jack shit to do with separation-anxiety. Something is wrong! I know this!"

Mr. Hale seemed taken aback by her tone. "You do realize that it's only been two days? Do you really think speaking to him so soon is going to help with his, or your own, emotional development?"

"I don't care if it's been two _minutes_!" Amanda yelled angrily. "I need to get hold of my son!"

"Calm down, Miss Hoyer."

"Don't tell me to calm down! Just give me the goddamn number of the camp, you pretentious bastard! If you want to spend the next two weeks lecturing me on how I'm screwing up my child's mental independence, you're welcome to do that from tomorrow, after I speak to someone at the camp and am reassured that nothing is wrong. But I'm telling you that something _is_! Something is _terribly_ wrong!"

Mr. Hale paused for a moment, confused by the panic in her voice and perhaps realizing he wasn't going to convince her to change her mind. He sighed. "Alright. Hold on."

She could hear the clicks as he scrolled through the contacts on his phone, before his voice returned.

"Do you have a pen?"

She hurried over to the kitchen counter between the living room and the kitchen, emptying out a fruit bowl filled with papers, batteries and other small items. She knew she had seen a pen somewhere, but where? To her relief it rolled towards her and she snatched it up, flipping over a utility bill to write on the back. "Go ahead."

She wrote down the number that Mr. Hale read to her.

"That's Elaine Winslow's number." Hale said. "She is a sixth-grade teacher at St Patricks, and the Camp Youth Leader. Give her a call. But please – try not to let Jimmy know that you were checking up on him! It could have negative consequences in the long run."

"I'll keep that in mind." Amanda replied sarcastically. "What about the camp itself, Hobbiton, do they not have a landline?"

"They only open on school holidays, so there are no landlines. If you don't come right with Miss Winslow then I can give you the camp organizer's email address."

"Give it to me now." Amanda said, and then added. "Please."

There was a sigh and then Mr. Hale gave it to her, while she wrote it down.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked concernedly.

"With all due respect Mr. Hale, I know my son better than you do, and I'm telling you that something is wrong. If by some miracle I am mistaken, then I will take full responsibility for stunting his growth, okay?"

"That's not what I meant..." He began replying, but Amanda cut him short.

"I have to go, sir. Thank you for your help."

She ended the call and immediately started dialing the number Hale had given her for Elaine Winslow. She had met her briefly on Friday afternoon when she had dropped Jimmy off at the school. She seemed like a decent woman, and Amanda had been comfortable with Jimmy being under her supervision. Now she prayed she had not made an error in judgment! She tried not to think of all the reasons Jimmy would have to phone her, what terrible things might have happened, and his little voice popped up in her head -

I'm the last one...

\- but she pushed it aside quickly. She did not want to have to dwell on what that could have meant, knowing that she would only make herself feel worse, and that her imagination would conjure up the worst possible scenario.

Elaine's number also went straight to voicemail, and Amanda felt herself sliding back into panic mode, the edges of her vision darkening. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply for a moment. Get a grip, she told herself! She dialed the number again and listened to the voice mail message, this time not automated but recorded by the 6th Grade teacher herself.

"Hi, this is Elaine Winslow. I'm not available right now, but if you leave your name and number I will get back to you in a flash! If it's an emergency, please contact my brother, Drake Winslow at 083 271..."

Amanda grabbed the pen again and wrote down the number for the teacher's brother. She immediately dialed it and waited anxiously for the call to be answered. There was a click and then a male voice almost immediately.

"Drake."

"Oh, thank God!" Amanda cried, before composing herself.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry. Is this Drake Winslow? Elaine's brother?"

"Yes." He had a pleasant voice, a deep tone laced with warmth. "What can I do for you?"

"My name is Amanda Hoyer. My son is a student at your sister's school."

"Have you spoken to her?" Drake asked, "If it's anything school related I don't think I could help you."

"I've tried." Amanda replied. "Her phone is on voicemail, and it's the only contact number I have for her. She was leading a camp for a few of the students, up at Hogsback, near Alice."

"Yes, Hobbiton. She told me."

"Exactly. Well, you see, I received a disturbing phone call a few minutes ago from my son, Jimmy, and I'm worried about him. I mean, really worried!"

"I don't see what this has to do with me." Drake replied, sounding a little irritated now. "As I said, if its school related..."

"Drake." Amanda interrupted him. "Do you love your sister?"

There was a pause. "Of course. Why would you even ask that?"

"If you had a suspicion that she was in trouble, would you not do everything in your power to help her?"

"Is she? In trouble, I mean?"

"She may be." Amanda lied, desperate now to get assistance from someone, anyone, even this stranger. "Now take your love for your sister and multiply it by one hundred. That's how much I love my son. Something is wrong, I'm telling you. Something is wrong with those kids, and possibly your sister as well, up in those mountains!"

The silence on the other end of the line seemed like it would never end. Amanda could hear the man breathing as he pondered her statement. She could only imagine what he was thinking right now, she prayed that his natural instinct would not be to just hang up on the crazy woman on the other end of the line. She wasn't sure what she would do if he did. It would be like hitting a brick wall at a hundred kilometers per hour!

"What can I do to help?" he asked eventually.

### Chapter 29

They agreed to meet at the Windmill Roadhouse, a local hangout down on the beachfront. It was almost a midway point between where they both lived, and was also an instantly recognizable landmark in the small city of East London. The roadhouse had been established in 1946, the prime location of the land had been a contributing factor to its success and sustainability. With majestic views of the Indian Ocean only a few hundred meters away from the parking lot, a simple and proven menu, and great service, it would have taken a tsunami to close it down! Owned by a Greek family, the original owner had only recently retired and handed the running of the business over to his sons.

As Amanda pulled into the parking lot, she was amazed at how busy the place was on a lazy Sunday afternoon. She had to drive to the rear of the building and find a parking near the back, almost under the three storey high fake windmill which had been erected there, and which also doubled as administration offices for the business. She drove an older model VW Polo, maroon in colour, mostly reliable except on cooler mornings in winter. She had described her car to Drake Winslow, so that he would be able to find her amongst the other patrons. A waiter immediately appeared at her window, offering her a menu, flashing his teeth. She shook her head.

"No thank you. I'm just waiting for someone."

"You have to order then, Miss." He said pointing at a nearby signboard, which threatened patrons with the use of tyre clamps for anyone not using the parking lot as official customers of the roadhouse. "The boss is full of nonsense."

Amanda shook her head. "Okay then. Bring me a toasted chicken sandwich and a mineral water."

"Shredded or breast?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Your sandwich." He sighed. "Shredded chicken, or chicken breast?"

"Shredded, please."

The waiter disappeared between the cars towards the main building, his youth and energy obvious in the swift motion of his body as he darted past other waiters headed in the same direction. Amanda scanned the other cars in the parking lot, trying to spot the black BMW that Drake Winslow had described to her, a man she had never met, yet who now seemed to be the only person in the world who might be able to help her contact her son! It wasn't long before she spotted the large SUV turn into the driveway behind her, and then snake its way through the parked cars until it turned in her direction, pulling up in the parking space next to her Polo. She opened her door and stepped out of the car, waiting patiently as the driver of the BMW turned off his engine and then made his way around the back of his car towards her.

"Amanda?" he asked, holding out his hand towards her.

She took it in hers, immediately impressed by both the strength of his grip, as well as the baby soft sensation of his skin on hers. "You must be Drake?"

He nodded. "That would be me."

"Thank you so much for coming." She said, forcing herself to remove her hand from his. "I really appreciate your help!"

"You sounded pretty upset." He smiled. "What choice did I really have?"

He was tall, at least two feet taller than she was, his skin was a golden brown colour, an indication of hours spent in the sun - she had to imagine either swimming, or hiking - but based on the streaks of blonde in his dark brown hair she had to assume it was swimming or surfing. The salt in sea water had a way of lightening the hair, and there was just something about him which yelled 'surfer' at her. His eyes were a startling green, almost translucent in appearance, and quite mesmerizing. She forced her own eyes away from his, looking down at her feet, and noticing that he wore knee-length baggie shorts and designer beach sandals.

"You must think I'm just an overly paranoid mother." She sighed, leaning against her car and staring out towards the ocean.

"No." he replied seriously, shaking his head and moving alongside her. "Not at all! I think any kid would be lucky to have a mom like you, who worried about them. I know I would have traded in my childhood, blessed or not, for the opportunity to be nurtured and loved." He noticed the strange look that Amanda gave him, and added. "My parents were... distant, you could say, for lack of a better word! Anyway... what did you learn from the call?"

"Not much really." She sighed. "It was literally only a second or two. Jimmy said something about being the 'last one', whatever that meant, and that I needed to come and get him. But then we were cut off and the phone has been disconnected ever since."

"Do you think it could have been a message for something more innocent? That perhaps you took it up the wrong way?"

"No." she shook her head adamantly. "I could hear it in his voice. Fear! Absolute fear..."

"Okay." Drake nodded. "I believe you. And if your son was so terrified of something, I have to wonder where my sister was at that point! She has always loved these camps, and she herself is super-protective of her 'kids'. If there had been a problem I have to believe she would have called me. Her phone is still off, as well. I've been trying ever since you reached me earlier. Is there any other way to reach Hobbiton by phone?"

"No." Amanda replied. "They don't have a landline, and I only have an email address for the camp organizer."

"Have you mailed him?"

"I don't have a personal computer. I normally use the email system at work."

"Okay." He opened the passenger door of his BMW for her and gestured for her to take a seat, and then hurried around to the other side and climbed in as well. He reached onto the back seat and lifted up a small black leather case. He flipped it open, revealing an Apple iPad. He logged in and then opened his emails. "What's the address?"

Amanda told him and he typed it in. She was amazed at how quick his fingers were on the small keypad, using the keyboard the way a professional typist would, fingers in their positions below the qwerty keys. He typed a quick email, showing it to her when he was done.

Dear Sir, please confirm the arrival and safety of the students from St. Patricks Junior School in East London at your facility in Hogsback. There have been some queries on the current status of the children, and as concerned family members it is imperative that we garner a response as soon as possible!

He had left both their names and phone numbers in the mail, before sending it off.

"With any luck we'll get a response soon."

"What do we do until then?" she asked, concernedly.

"I'm not sure." He replied. "I guess we have to wait for either a phone call or an email."

"How long do we wait?" she asked, and her voice trembled. "I need to reach my son, one way or the other. The sooner the better!"

Drake considered this for a moment. "Okay. If we don't have a response from the camp organizer or my sister by three pm, we'll go straight to the police and ask them to send someone from the nearest town to Hogsback to check up on the boys and Elaine."

Amanda nodded. It was two-thirty already, so that would be less than half an hour. It seemed a reasonable, although torturous length of time, all the same. There was a tap on her shoulder through the window of the BMW and she turned around in surprise.

"Your order?" the smiling waiter asked, holding out a small greaseproof bag and bottled water.

"Shit." She gasped. "I forgot! Would you like something?" she asked Drake, who shook his head.

"I'm good, thanks."

She paid the young man for her food, which she hadn't really wanted in the first place anyway, and then stepped out and tossed the parcels on the front seat of the Polo. As she turned away from her car, she bumped into Drake, who had come around to her side and had been staring out over the ocean. He steadied her briefly, and she marveled at the chiseled shape of his muscles beneath his shirt, the rock solidness of them under her hand on his arm.

"Sorry." She said, stepping back and straightening her shirt. She was still wearing her jeans and the white t-shirt with the now pink wine stain on it, and she felt suddenly embarrassed. Drake must think she was a scoundrel! She hadn't even combed her hair or put any makeup on! She caught his eye for a moment as she tucked a wayward lock of hair in behind her ear.

"My bad." He smiled. "I was admiring the swell."

"Swell?" she asked, confused, forcing herself to look away from his incredibly attractive face.

"The waves." He said, pointing at the ocean. "Two to three foot swells, mild easterly wind. Great conditions for surfing."

"You surf then, obviously." She smiled.

He shook his head. "I used to. Not anymore"

"Really?" she was genuinely surprised. He had all the features and character of a person who surfed regularly. "Why not?"

"I haven't surfed in five years." He said. "But I go down to the beach once a day like clockwork and watch the ones who do. It's a thing."

"Okay." Amanda said, sensing that he wasn't keen on elaborating further right now. "So tell me about your sister. Are you guys close?"

Drake chuckled. "Unbelievably. Our family is... dysfunctional, to say the least! My father was born in England and is a well-known property magnate up in Gauteng. He has properties all over Africa, and even overseas; Italy, Spain and some parts of Northern Europe. He is, and always was, away on business. There were times growing up when I swear I didn't recognize him when he returned from some of his trips. His continuous absence placed a lot of strain on our mother, of course, who chose to keep herself busy with tea parties, charity event organization, and golf lessons... basically anything that would not involve having to take responsibility for her children. Elaine and I were basically raised by a succession of nanny's and hostel matrons."

"God, that's awful." Amanda frowned.

"Not really." Drake replied, smiling. "We had the best of both worlds, I guess. Freedom, independence, and all the money we needed. Honestly, though, I would have swopped it all for an 'I love you' once in a while."

"That's a sad story." Amanda said.

"What about you and your son?" Drake asked.

Amanda swallowed, for the briefest moment she had not been thinking about the danger he might be in, and she felt a twang of guilt at this which left a sour taste in her mouth.

"I would give up everything for him." She whispered. "Everything!"

### Chapter 30

Chatting with Drake made the time fly by, and it had soon reached three pm without a return email from the Camp Organizer. Drake had also tried phoning Elaine's number several times, each time with the same voice-mail response. They dialed the number on Amanda's phone that Jimmy had called from, and the result was the same. They had even tried the school's guidance counselor, Mr. Hale, again, with Drake being the interrogator this time, and they managed to get the cell phone number of the school's bus driver and caretaker, Mr Klopper, but his phone was also on voicemail. There was just no way to contact any other person at the holiday camp up in the Amatola Mountains! Amanda had started getting fidgety, and the panic had started returning. More than an hour had already passed since Jimmy's call, and she was no closer to reaching him now than she had been then!

"We have to go to the police." She said to Drake, after he tossed his cell phone angrily into the compartment between the seats. "It's been half an hour. You promised."

"Okay." He nodded. "Let's do that. Lock your car and leave it here. You can drive with me."

She pointed at the sign on the wall of the Windmill offices. "They'll clamp it."

"And I'll pay for its release if they do." He smiled. "Grab your stuff."

She collected her bag, sunglasses, wallet and keys from the Polo, then activated the central locking and climbed into Drake's BMW. He maneuvered his way out of the parking lot and into the busy street. Four private bus companies had located their offices strategically close to the Windmill Roadhouse, and the area was abuzz with people, passengers and buses preparing for their journeys into the rest of the country.

East London was situated on the eastern coastline of South Africa, six hundred kilometers from Durban, and more than a thousand kilometers from Cape Town. The city was a fraction of the size of the two metropolises, but it thrived due to its proximity to the former homelands of Ciskei and Transkei, large heavily populated areas that relied on the infrastructure and distribution capabilities of the once rustic and beautiful coastal town, even prior to the abolishment of Apartheid. It was also the only city on the African continent that could boast with a natural river harbor, and this was a major asset to the region, spawning the construction of large manufacturing companies which specialized in import and export worldwide. These factories created employment opportunities, which in turn had aided the growth of the city to accommodate the influx of residents from nearby areas.

Most of these residents originated from the rural homelands, and travelled between East London and nearby towns of Umtata, Butterworth and Mount Frere on a weekly basis. The bus companies were the most affordable transport option for those not willing to risk the dangerous journey in the multitude of minibus vehicles which made up the local taxi industry. This meant that busloads of passengers were either arriving or leaving on a regular basis daily, and with the roadhouse on the doorstep of the bus companies, the business thrived even more from the extra feet in and out.

Drake turned the BMW up Rhodes Street, away from the beachfront and towards the nearby center of town. The streets were narrow and filled with potholes, a clear indication of the weak management of infrastructure and resources by the young post-apartheid ruling party. Amanda had lived here all her life and she had seen the city disintegrate from a once historically beautiful town into the beaten up version of itself that it had now become. There were certain areas of the city where it was not even safe to walk in daylight anymore, with gangs, prostitutes, drugs and crime rife, and on the increase daily. Central town was no exception and this despite having the main Police Station situated there! They found a parking near the main entrance of the orange face-bricked building and made their way up the stairs to the Charge Office.

It was a Sunday, so the queue at the desk wasn't that bad. Amanda counted five others in front of them, with two uniformed officers behind the long counter who were taking statements and issuing case numbers. It would still be a fairly long wait, as the officials seemed to be in no rush, talking, walking and writing in slow motion almost. This was a fair representation of the majority of the South African Police Services currently; overweight and dead inside. A far cry from the passion and energy of police officers as shown on the television series from the United States or any other place! The country, its government, and the supportive services to it, had a long way to go before they could escape the 'Third World' tag they had been branded with.

It took almost an hour, with Amanda fidgeting and biting her nails anxiously for most of that time, before they were eventually called to the desk for their turn. The officer, Constable Shibambo, looked bored and disinterested as he stared back at them from across the counter.

"Yes?" he asked, slipping a blank incident report sheet out from under the counter and placing it in front of him, pen at the ready.

"We'd like to ask for some assistance from the SAPS up in Alice." Amanda said, clasping her hands together and leaning on the counter. "My son is up there on a camp, and I think something may have happened to him."

The constable raised his eyebrow at her. "In Alice?"

Amanda nodded.

"That's a different jurisdiction."

"I know that. But I was hoping you could make a phone call for us, perhaps speak to the right person up there. I just need them to send a police van out to the camp at Hobbiton, that's all."

"That's not how we work." The constable said, seeming irritated now and returning the blank form to an unseen area beneath the counter again. "Try phoning 10111"

"You're kidding, right?" Amanda asked, chuckling. That was the number for the South African emergency services, similar to the 911 service in the USA, but only five-percent as effective. "I'd be lucky to get hold of the police station in East London, never mind in Alice!"

The constable did not seem amused, as he grunted and looked past the two of them towards the next people in line. Drake drew his attention by stepping in front of Amanda.

"Look, buddy. I know this is not how you guys work, making phone calls to private officials in other towns and everything, but we're only asking for a favor here! Man to man, in the interest of justice. This woman is worried about her son. He is twelve years old and possibly missing up in those mountains. Do you have any kids?"

The constable smiled, and it was a strange look on him. "I'm African. What do you think?"

Drake laughed. "Okay then, so you would understand how desperate she is then! What if this was one of your children, and you knew something was wrong, but you couldn't get hold of them?"

" _Ey, ya gnola_!" the constable muttered, and Amanda knew enough of the Xhosa language to understand that he was commenting on their state of minds.

"It's just one phone call, man!" Drake pleaded. "At least we're not reporting some stupid misdemeanor crime and making you spend an hour filling out another incident report, for a case that would probably go nowhere and just ultimately waste your valuable time! You can be rid of us in five minutes!"

Constable Shibambo chuckled at this, shaking his head. Drake must have convinced him though, because he pushed himself away from the counter and stood up, moving around to a small desk behind him and picking up the phone. He dialed a number which he tracked off a paper stapled to a notice board above the desk, and then sat down on the edge of it, looking back at them sullenly. He spoke a few words into the phone, and then held his hand over the mouthpiece.

"Where is this camp?"

"Hobbiton." Amanda replied quickly. "Hobbiton on Hogsback."

The constable repeated the information, nodded his head a few times, and then put the phone down. He came back over to the counter and wrote something down on a piece of paper.

"I have a friend who is stationed there. He is on duty today. He said he would go and check it out. Here." He handed Drake the piece of paper. "This is his number. He said to call him in one hour. His name is Lutho Gaxela."

Amanda felt as if she could reach across the counter and hug the police man. This was the best thing that had happened since Jimmy had phoned her earlier today! Instead she grabbed Drake's arm and squeezed it gently. He patted her hand with his.

"Thank you, sir!" he said to Constable Shibambo. "You have been a great help!"

Shibambo waved them away, just happy to have gotten rid of the two insistent complainants. They exited the police station and made their way back to Drake's BMW. Once inside Amanda let out a small shout of joy.

"Oh, thank God!" she sighed. "And thank you, Drake!"

"Let's not get excited yet." He smiled. "We still have to hear back from this Lutho guy. He said to give him an hour, so what do we do now?"

"I'm suddenly starved." Amanda replied. "Can we get back to the Windmill; I have a sandwich in my car!"

Drake laughed. "You must be joking, right? If you're hungry, I'll whip something up for us."

"Really?" Amanda frowned.

"What's the matter? You don't think I can cook?"

"It's not that. Well, to be honest, you don't look like a man who spends a lot of time in the kitchen."

"I may just surprise you!" he smiled, as he pulled the car out into the quiet Sunday afternoon traffic and headed through the city towards the suburbs. "I make a mean peanut butter salad."

Amanda laughed. "Really? Peanut butter?"

"Are you kidding? Peanut butter is like my staple food!"

Amanda appreciated the touch of humor. It eased her mind slightly, but after a moment she sat in silence as they drove, staring out the window at the city passing by, bathed in the warm orange glow of the late afternoon sun over the Indian Ocean. In this light the streets looked cleaner, the buildings majestic, but she could not help but wonder what her twelve year old son was seeing on his side of the world, in the isolated enormity of the Amatola forest as an uncertain nightfall approached.

### Chapter 31

Amanda was in awe as they turned up the driveway of Drake's house in Bunker's Hill. Two enormous metal gates, emblazoned with the words "Winslow", opened automatically as they approached the property, revealing a tree-lined path up a short hill beyond them, with the house itself just barely visible in the distance at the top. As the gates closed behind them Amanda immediately felt as if she had just entered another world, a secret garden of beauty, hidden from the eyes of man. Drake drove around a large circular patch of garden, with a beautiful angel-shaped fountain in the middle of rows of rose bushes, and parked in front of the steps leading up to the double story house. He switched the engine off and in the silence that followed Amanda bathed her ears in the overwhelming sounds of birds from the majestic trees all around them.

"Wow." She breathed. "This is so beautiful."

"Thank you." Drake smiled. "It belonged to my grandmother. She left it to Elaine and me when she passed a few years back. It's a little bit of overkill, I guess. I really only use three rooms in the whole house - a bit of a waste."

"It must be a nightmare to upkeep."

"We have a team of gardeners and housekeepers." Drake replied, almost apologetically, as if his wealth were an embarrassment. "Elaine works a lot, and I'm always away on business."

"What is it you do, exactly?" Amanda asked, as they made their way up the stairs and to the imposing and polished mahogany front door.

"I'm a multi-tasker." Drake smiled. "I do a little bit of everything. Stock market trading, Forex shares, I build IT systems for companies, do some business consulting and a couple of other things as well."

"Phew!" Amanda sighed. "How do you keep track of all of that?"

"I know!" Drake laughed. "I tried clones once, but even they're beside themselves."

It took a moment for Amanda to wrap her mind around the statement, and it was the chuckle from Drake as they entered the house that finally convinced her he was joking! "You're quite funny."

"It's not intentional" Drake laughed. "It's a force of habit from having parents who had sticks up their asses."

The house was beautiful. Drake took Amanda on a quick tour, describing the purpose and a short history of each room they passed, but she had lost track of most of it by the time they reached the kitchen. The furnishings were mostly antique, a fantastic collection of mid-nineteenth century pieces which were strategically placed throughout the house. Everything was in pristine condition, highly polished and cared for. The kitchen, on the other hand, was ultra-modern, with an enormous marble top in the center of it, surrounded by top of the range appliances. Strategically placed red wall tiles accented the reflective white and chrome of the rest of the room, adding a stunning architectural feel to the room, reminiscent of retro eighties.

"This is my favorite room in the whole house!" Amanda groaned, running her fingers along the marble top.

"Mine too!" Drake said. "I spend more time in here than anywhere else. Most of my work is mobile, so I usually set my laptop up on the counter here, run connections via Wi-Fi; I even do conference calls on Skype with the refrigerator in the background!"

Amanda smiled. "I can understand why, though."

Drake checked his watch. "It's another thirty minutes before we have to phone this chap in Alice. What would you like to eat?"

"Really, you don't have to go to any trouble! Just a sandwich will be fine."

"Forget it!" Drake scolded. "If you're going to eat, you need to make it nutritious and worthwhile! How about spaghetti bolognaise? I have this great recipe, you'll love it! And it's quick."

Amanda shrugged. "Okay. I love spaghetti."

"Great!" Drake opened the refrigerator and pulled out two bottles, twisting them open and placing one in front of Amanda. ""Beer is an important part of a balanced diet."

"Well who am I to argue with the chef?" she smiled. "Thank you."

They made small talk while Drake prepared their meal, focusing mostly on Drake's upbringing and his wealthy family, while Amanda strategically avoided any conversation about her own recent past, specifically with regards to Jimmy's father, Geoff. She spoke instead about Jimmy himself, and how mature and responsible he was for his age. She could tell that Drake had picked up on her avoidance of certain questions, but he had been kind enough not to pursue them or press for answers. She respected that, and by the time he was serving her food and pulling up a chair alongside her, she felt grateful for the opportunity to discuss his cooking skills instead.

The spaghetti bolognaise was really delicious. She found herself savoring every fork. By the time they had finished it was almost five-thirty pm and the sky outside had started darkening. She couldn't shake the sense of urgency that had settled in her bones, making her feel uneasy and restless. Drake noticed her checking the time and pushed his plate aside.

"Should we call our contact?"

Amanda nodded, and couldn't help but notice that her heart rate had just increased. She stood up and paced the floor while Drake dialed the number. He smiled at her while he held the phone to his ear. After several moments he ended the call and then redialed the number.

"No answer." He shrugged as he listened for a second time. After almost a minute he put the phone down. "Nothing."

Amanda felt as if giant walls had just boxed her in. The overwhelming sensation of claustrophobia had made her knees weak and she had to feel for the marble counter top to steady herself. Drake stepped closer and supported her by the arm.

"Hey. Take it easy." He said softly, guiding her to a nearby kitchen chair. "I'll keep trying. We'll get hold of him eventually."

"And what if we don't?"

"We'll find another way!" Drake replied sternly. "You have my word."

"You've done too much already." Amanda said. "I can't expect you to-"

"You're forgetting that my sister is also there." Drake interrupted. "No matter what, I plan on finding out about her and your son."

He picked up his cell phone and dialed the number again, ending the call angrily after a few moments. He dialed a few more numbers, Elaine's, the number Amanda had given him for Jimmy, and even Mr. Klopper's number... after several minutes he banged the phone down on the counter top. "Dammit!"

"It's dark now." Amanda said, her tone was distant as she stared out the large windows into the night beyond.

"I can't believe the school could be this disorganized!" Drake said angrily. "How are we expected to reach anyone at this damned camp? What if one of the kids got hurt? I swear I'll sue the pants off of them!"

"Maybe that's it!" Amanda exclaimed suddenly, jumping up from her chair. "The kids!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we aren't the only people who have family up in those mountains right now! There must have been at least seven or eight children who went! Those parents might have their kid's numbers if they took cell phones with?"

"Good thinking!" Drake smiled. "Give me Hale's number again."

Drake dialed the number for Mr. Hale. He spoke briefly to him in a tone that demanded respect and action. By the time he had hung up he was red in the face.

"What did he say?" Amanda asked.

"He's going to email me the list of children who went, along with contact details for their parents or guardians."

"When?"

"By tomorrow morning."

"That's too late!" Amanda exclaimed. "We need those phone numbers now!"

"The information is at the school." Drake explained. "Hale doesn't have keys and principal van Vuuren is not answering his phone. He promised to get it to me first thing in the morning."

"Holy crap!" Amanda cried. "How do they expect me to sleep a wink tonight?"

"There's no other way." Drake replied. A noise from his iPad on the counter drew his attention and he snatched it up.

"Oh thank God!" he exclaimed as he stared at the screen.

"What is it?"

"It's an email from the Camp Organizer up at Hobbiton!"

Amanda hurried over to Drake and peered at the screen. "What's it say?"

"Opening it now." He said as the screen refreshed.

The message was short; only a few brief sentences. Amanda read them quickly at first, but then went back and re-read them again, slower and more carefully - to be sure the words weren't just a figment of her imagination.

Dear Mr. Winslow.

Thank you for your enquiry, but there must be some mistake. No students arrived from St. Patricks on Friday afternoon, nor has there been any communication from the school. It was assumed that the trip was cancelled from their side? Please consult with Mr. van Vuuren, the school principal at St. Patricks.

Words from the second line of the email yelled out at Amanda, and it was as if each pronunciation was keeping time with her racing heartbeat:

NO STUDENTS ARRIVED... FRIDAY AFTERNOON...

Thoughts slammed into the back of her mind. It was Sunday night already! Eight young boys, their teacher and a bus driver, had vanished somewhere between East London and Hogsback on Friday afternoon! More than two days ago! And nobody had even known or suspected that anything was wrong! How do ten human beings just vanish from sight and not get missed? By _anyone!_

More words floated briefly through Amanda's mind, words her son had said to her on the phone earlier today...

I'm the last one...

The sliver of ice that ran down the back of her spine felt as if a blade from Freddy Kreuger's killing glove had just pierced her skin.

### Chapter 32

Amanda felt the edges of her vision start to blur and darkness crept in from the sides. Drake was next to her before her legs gave way and he steadied her and helped her to the chair again. He poured a glass of warm water and added some sugar to it, placing it in front of her.

"Drink up. It will make you feel better."

Amanda swallowed the warm liquid in one go, the sticky sweetness of it immediately started clearing her head. She put the empty glass back on the counter and rubbed her forehead.

"Thank you, Drake. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"It's just shock." He replied calmly. "There's nothing to apologize for! Under the circumstances I think you handled it quite well, actually."

The message from the email raced through Amanda's mind again. "Oh my God! My son - those other children - what has happened to them? Your sister!"

"I know." Drake said, taking a seat next to her. "It's a horrible thought. But until we know the facts I don't think we should be jumping to any conclusions. The most important thing we can do right now is stay calm. At the very least, we know that Jimmy is still alive! Keep reminding yourself of that!"

Amanda nodded. "Yes, you're right. It's just so terrifying trying not to imagine what happened, or where they are right now!"

"Yes, it is. Things have changed. I need to make a few phone calls - the school, the police. If something terrible has happened then we need to get the authorities involved. There might have been an accident or worse."

"What could be worse?"

"Hijacking? Kidnapping? A lot of those kids at St. Patricks come from well-to-do families, I'm guessing. It's a private school, so it's a possibility, right?"

"Shit! Really? You think that could have happened?"

"I don't know." Drake said. "That's the point. Right now we don't know anything at all, which is why we need to get the ball rolling."

He stood up and picked up his cell phone. Before he started dialing he looked at Amanda, concern on his face. "You look exhausted! Why don't you go take a hot shower in one of the guest rooms? It might refresh you?"

"I'm okay." Amanda sighed. "I just need answers."

"Hey." Drake said softly. "This could take a while. Go freshen up. Please? You're not going to do either of us any good while you're stressed out."

Amanda could feel the emotional strain of the past few hours on the back of her neck. Ever since the phone call from Jimmy earlier that afternoon, her mind had not stopped racing. After all the years of abuse and terror he had both witnessed and endured, she was determined to shield and protect him from anything negative or bad, no matter what. Finding out that the bus had never arrived in Hogsback had been the cherry on top, the catalyst for all the horrible thoughts she was having - the self blame! Drake was right. She needed to detoxify her mind, and a hot shower was probably going to be the best therapy she could get in a short space of time.

"Alright." She nodded. "Five minutes."

"That should be more than enough time." He smiled, waving her towards the stairs. "Off you go!"

She used the shower in the first bedroom she came across. There were wonderful fluffy white towels on the counter which still smelt of fabric conditioner - lavender, to be exact. The water was scorching, and she kept it as hot as she could bear, allowing the heat of it to penetrate her skin, until she felt as if it would reach her soul. By the time she closed the taps the little bathroom was filled with gloriously warm steam as she dried herself off with the towels. She used her hand to clear a section of the large mirror above the basin, and then quickly ran the brush she kept in her handbag through her hair. She tied it back into a pony tail, studying her face in the mirror. She was still young, only thirty-two. Jimmy had been born when she was twenty-one. She had always made a point of looking after her skin, avoiding excessive sunlight, using lotions and creams, and despite this there were still tiny crow's feet that ran from beneath her eyes to the side of her face. She could name each and every one of those worry-lines, could put a date and a time to them. They were a constant reminder of a bad life once lived - a life she hoped to never to relive again.

By the time she had redressed and headed back downstairs, Drake was just ending off a phone call, and turned to look at her, his eyes darting briefly over her wet hair.

"What have you found out?" Amanda asked as she placed her handbag on the counter.

"I've spoken to Mr. Hale. He has contacted the school principal, Mr. van Vuuren, and he will be informing the other parents. They're reporting the case to the police - and to search and rescue."

"What happens next?"

"We wait, I guess?"

Amanda shook her head. "No way! How long is it going to take them to set up a search party? It's Sunday night! They'll only get started in the morning! What if Jimmy's in serious trouble? What if he doesn't have until tomorrow morning?"

"What choice do we have?" Drake asked. "It's a huge stretch between here and Hogsback! The bus could have gone missing at any point! Plus, it's pitch dark outside. Even if we wanted to get a head start, we wouldn't be able to see anything!"

"I can't just sit here and wait!" Amanda cried, her voice raising an octave. "You don't understand... Jimmy has... he needs... "

"Hey." Drake said softly. "Relax. I understand what you're feeling right now. I really do! But you need to be realistic about this. There is nothing we can do tonight."

"That may be." Amanda replied. "But I need to be there the second the sun rises tomorrow! I'm not going to sleep anyway. I'm driving through tonight!"

Drake sighed and nodded. "I guess there's no way I'll be able to change your mind, is there?"

"No."

"Okay. Let's go."

"Really? Now?"

"Right now." Drake smiled. "I'll phone and make a booking at one of the hotels. We leave in fifteen minutes."

"I don't have any clothes, or toiletries." Amanda said.

"Help yourself to my sister's stuff - second floor, third room on the left. She's about your size. There should be a suitcase in her closet."

Amanda's eyes filled with tears. "Thank you, Drake. I don't know what I would have done without your help today!"

"You would have done the same for me." He replied. "Go get ready."

"What about _my_ car!" Amanda exclaimed. "It's still at the roadhouse!"

"Leave your keys on the kitchen counter. I'll get Robert to collect it for you tomorrow. It will be here when we get back."

"Robert?"

"He's my personal assistant. Now scoot!" Drake said, waving her off again.

Amanda hurried up the stairs and headed for Elaine's bedroom. She went straight to the closet and fetched the biggest suitcase she could find. She placed it on the bed and opened it up. For a moment she just stared at it, at what it represented, unable to move. This day had been too much for her. She could feel herself slipping into panic mode again, the way it had always been for her during her marriage. She had come full circle, the natural instinct of playing protector to her son had taken over now, she had slipped into the role as comfortably as she would have had she been putting on her favorite pair of pajamas. She had hoped to never have to experience those emotions again, but here they were once more, glaring invisibly at her. Fear. Doubt. Terror. Insecurity. She had to shake them off, had to focus on the task at hand, she knew that! Jimmy was out there in the Amatola forests, alone and possibly in danger! He needed her to be strong. That was all that mattered!

She proceeded to toss clothes randomly from Elaine's closet into the open suitcase, barely taking note of what she was packing, and trying not to think of the woman who owned them. Drake had been right - luckily Elaine was almost the same size as she was. She packed jeans, t-shirts, a few summer dresses and coats. At one stage she considered unpacking some of the items, thinking they might be overkill, but she had no idea how long they would be gone for, so decided to leave them there. In the bathroom she found shampoo, conditioner, face cream and deodorant. She grabbed a hairbrush and hairdryer from the dresser draw and tossed them into the suitcase as well, before zipping it up and hoisting it off the bed.

Drake was waiting for her downstairs at the BMW. He took the suitcase from her and placed it in the boot. "Are you ready?"

Amanda nodded. "As ready as I can be."

Drake opened her door for her and she buckled up as he started the engine. As they drove down the long tree-lined driveway, pausing at the huge metal gates which opened slowly towards them, Amanda couldn't shake the crazy feeling that she would never see this driveway or the house again.

### Chapter 33

The road from East London to Hogsback wound inland from the coast in a north-westerly direction, through the nearby town of King Williams Town, past the tiny villages of Keiskammahoek and Middledrift, and then up towards the Amatola Mountains and the Tyumie Valley. Between King William's Town and Alice, hundreds of rural Xhosa villages lined the road on either side, thousands of mud huts interspersed with more modern brick houses sporting satellite TV dishes and up-market cars in the driveways. This was a true picture of the new South Africa - an indication of both the modernization and reluctant cultural roots which afflicted so many of the younger generation since the banishment of Apartheid in 1994. Many of these once exclusively rural villagers now worked and lived in the bigger towns and cities around the Eastern Cape, including King William's Town, Grahamstown, East London and Port Elizabeth. On some weekends or holidays, however, they would return to their homes, where the elders still thrived, raising cattle or sheep, or farming with maize and trading with chiefs in nearby villages. The merging of the two uniquely different worlds was apparent and special, and one of the attractions for the multitude of tourists who visited the area annually.

Alice was the closest town to Hogsback, approximately thirty-five kilometers west of the mountain village, and the first stop for replenishment of supplies for the locals. The town itself was a rundown place, with potholed streets, abandoned buildings, dirty sidewalks and homeless dogs that wandered the streets between the occasional goat and chicken. With the exodus of most of the locals after 1994, the town had slowly dilapidated into the version it was today; a distant reminder of an ancient and rich history. From Alice, the road to Hogsback meandered eastwards, up through the Amatola Mountains on the famous Hogsback Pass, surrounded on all sides by the immense natural rainforests, deep valleys and mountain peaks. Three of these peaks, when viewed from a certain angle, resembled the shapes of a wild pig, or hog with its bristled back. It was assumed this was where the mountain village had received its unique and mysterious name, but others reckoned it had been so named by the 19th century painter, Thomas Baines, after the general of a nearby fort, General Hogg. Wherever the name had originated, there was no denying the mystical appeal of the area - some even considered it to have healing qualities in the form of the crystal clear streams and countless waterfalls that made it famous in the country as the last piece of a true Garden of Eden.

As beautiful as the scenery was during the day, at night it was just a dark presence through the windows of the BMW as they drove, and Amanda found it hard to concentrate on anything other than the creepy sight of the winding grey tarmac through the windscreen. Here and there dark skid marks scarred the road surface, and at the sight of each one her heart skipped a beat. She could not get the thought of the bus her son had been travelling on out of her mind. Had it accidentally left the road somewhere? Had it broken down and been towed away, leaving the children alone at the side of the road? She had to eventually close her eyes and try not to look at the road anymore, as it was driving her crazy.

"Are you okay?" Drake asked as he drove.

"I'm fine." Amanda replied, turning her head to smile at him. "I just wish it was daylight already."

Drake nodded, staring intently out the window. "Did you know that some people believe that the author of 'Lord of the Rings' found his inspiration for the scenery and mountains in his books from Hogsback?"

"Tolkien?" Amanda asked, surprised. "Really?"

"It's a theory." Drake shrugged. "But looking at these mountains and forests during the day, one can almost believe it's true."

"It really is a beautiful place."

"Beauty is deceptive." Drake said. "The most dangerous things in the world are sometimes the most beautiful. And I'm not just talking about some of the woman I've dated!"

Amanda grunted. "Too much information there, Romeo."

"I'm serious." Drake protested. "These forests and mountains are immense. We'll be looking for a needle in a haystack. And at any point we could find ourselves in danger. Cliffs, rockslides, wild animals - who knows what else!"

"What are you talking about? Do you want to back out now?" Amanda asked, sitting up and staring angrily at him.

"No. I'm not saying that. I just want you to realize upfront that this is going to be an enormous task. The chances of us finding your son or my sister right away are extremely slim! You need to keep that in the back of your mind. Be realistic about it."

"I know." Amanda sighed. "I've figured that out already. But you also need to realize that I will not stop looking for him! I don't care how long it takes, or how dangerous this place can be!"

"And I'll be at your side." Drake nodded, confidently. "Every step of the way, I promise you that. I just wanted to be sure you understood what we were up against."

"I do."

There was an uncomfortable silence that followed, and Drake eventually leaned forward and turned the radio up. It was on a local station, Algoa FM, an adult contemporary channel which played a mix of music from all the decades. Right now they were playing a recent hit by a local artist, Wayne Silverwood, called "Where You Are" which had been getting a fair amount of airplay recently. Amanda closed her eyes and let the words of the up tempo song float through her head, marveling at the sadness behind them.

' _This human race, hiding place, makes it so hard to find you... '_

The song pulled even harder at her emotions because less than a week ago her and Jimmy had danced jokingly around to it in the living room at home one evening, laughing and smiling at each other - neither one aware that the lyrics in it would become their destiny soon! She leaned forward and shut the radio off.

"I'm sorry if I upset you." Drake said softly beside her.

Amanda shook her head. "It's not you. It's... everything, I guess! This stupid camp, the school, the phone call - even that stupid song on the radio! I just feel so helpless!"

"Hey." Drake said, taking Amanda's hand in his and squeezing gently. "It's going to be okay. I promise! We'll find Jimmy, and Elaine. Before you know it we'll be back in East London again, and everything will be back to normal."

"I hope you're right." Amanda sighed. "I don't think I could carry on living if something happened to Jimmy. He is all I have in this world."

"Don't think like that. You'll be fine. Jimmy will too."

"I'm not so sure about that. After the hell he went through with his father. For him to survive this as well..."

"His father?"

Amanda stared out the passenger window at the dark trees flashing by at the side of the road. "It's a long story."

"Okay." Drake replied. "You can tell me when you're ready. As I said, I'm not going anywhere!"

Amanda leaned her head against the window, her breath fogging it up near her mouth briefly. She lifted her hand and traced a J with her finger. The initial stared back at her for a few moments, before it disappeared. She breathed again and it reappeared. It was comforting, in a small way.

The smooth sensation of the tar road under the tyres changed suddenly, as the road started winding upwards.

"We're almost there." Drake said. "Two or three kilometers at the most. I booked us in at the Arminel Hotel."

The village was built around a single main road, lined on either side by Bed and Breakfasts, curio shops, art galleries, a library and a few hotels, including the Arminel. Hogsback was a tiny speck amidst the vastness of the Amatola Mountains and forest.

Population: 751.

Plus two.

They pulled up outside the hotel a few minutes later and Drake grabbed the bag that Amanda had packed with Elaine's clothes and accessories, and then a smaller bag that he had packed for himself, before leading her up the stairs to the Reception. It was a beautiful summer evening, the stars were out in force, and the moon was almost full, casting a bright white light over the little village. The hotel was up on a hill at the far end of town, overlooking the rest of the village. It was a quaint single storey building, reminiscent of an Old Dutch farmhouse, with wooden shutters and brightly painted beams, topped off by an enormous thatch roof. They entered the foyer and approached the desk, where a pretty young girl smiled up at them.

"Good evening! Welcome to the Arminel. You must be Mr. Winslow?"

"That's correct. I phoned through a few hours ago. Two single rooms."

"We have them ready for you, Mr. Winslow. How long will you be staying?"

Drake looked at Amanda for a moment before handing the girl his credit card. "Indefinitely."

"Okay." The receptionist smiled. She handed him two sets of keys and directed them to their rooms, near the west end of the building. "We serve supper until eight pm."

Drake checked his watch. It was seven forty-five. "Can we get room service later?"

"Of course. Twenty-four hours."

He led Amanda through the rear door, and out towards the buildings on the western end of the property. Each building housed eight rooms. Theirs was at the very end. He unlocked Amanda's door for her, and then placed her suitcase on the double bed. The room smelled of fresh pine and spring.

"Get some sleep." Drake smiled. "We'll be up as early as possible. I want to buy some items at the local store. If you're hungry feel free to order from room service?"

"Thank you. But I'm not sure I'm going to sleep much, or eat anything, for that matter."

"Yeah. Me neither. I was being optimistic." He chuckled. "See you in the morning?"

Amanda nodded as she closed the door behind him. She turned and placed her back against it. The room was really nice; rustic furniture, a fireplace stacked with wood, a comfortable looking bed. It had all of the luxuries one might need, but she couldn't help comparing the room with where her son might be spending the night! It seemed unfair of her to sleep in that bed, use that shower, order room service, while he was out there alone in those godforsaken forests! What right did she have! She let her legs relax beneath her, sliding with her back down the door until she was on the floor and looking at the room from Jimmy's height.

It made her feel a little better, but not much - and not for very long!

### Chapter 34

It was the change in lighting that awoke her. The morning had crept up on the little mountain village of Hogsback like a thief in the night. It had slipped over the mountains and down through the valleys, snaking its way towards them silently and unsuspectingly. Amanda found herself lying on the bed on top of the blankets, still wearing her clothes from the night before, just her shoes kicked off at some point. She couldn't believe she had passed out so quickly, as sleep had been the furthest thing from her mind when she came to lie down on the bed. She had imagined a night spent tossing and turning, thoughts racing through her mind like babbling teenage girls at the mall, hours of staring up at the ceiling. She must have been so mentally exhausted that her brain had just shut down at the first opportunity it got! She felt surprisingly good though, even though the feelings were laced with traces of guilt.

When she checked the time on her wristwatch she was surprised to discover that it was only five-thirty in the morning, but it was summer, after all. She opened the borrowed suitcase and laid out some clothes for the day, a pair of jeans, a bright pink Foo Fighters t-shirt, and a pair of Nike sneakers that were still practically brand new. She languished in the shower for as long as she dared, soaking in the strength and warmth of the water, reluctant to leave it, but simultaneously eager to get out there and find her son. By the time she had dressed and dried her hair, it was already six am. She left the room and headed for the Drake's room next door. She was just about to knock on the door when it opened, surprising her.

"Good morning!" he smiled at her. "I see you also believe in the early bird!"

"I'm more like the second mouse, usually." She smiled, and noticing the confused look on Drake's face, explained "The second mouse gets the cheese."

"Ah. I can relate to that! Shall we grab a quick breakfast?"

"Sure. I'm starved. Nice T-shirt, by the way!"

Drake looked down at his chest, smiling. "Thank you."

The T-shirt had the slogan: _I'm not wrong. You're stupid._

They made their way to the hotel's dining room. It was surprisingly busy at this time of the morning and Amanda assumed the visitors and tourists were also eager to take advantage of the awesome weather and get out on the hiking trails. The forest and mountains were famous for their beautiful trails and hikes. Some of these took upwards of seven hours to complete at a brisk pace, so the earlier one got started, the more likely it would be that you would still get to see some of the beautiful waterfalls and make it back for supper. Breakfast was served buffet style. Amanda helped herself to some muesli and yoghurt, with a few pieces of canned fruit thrown in for luck. Drake, who Amanda thought would go the health conscious route, surprised her and went straight for the bacon and sausages, piling his plate with a mountain of greasy food and fried tomatoes. When he noticed the look she gave him, he smiled sheepishly.

"I need the carbs. It's going to be a long day."

"I never said anything!" she joked.

"You didn't have to!"

They ate their breakfast in silence mostly, neither one wanting to break the ice on what the plan for the day would be. By the time they had finished it was almost six-thirty. Drake stood up and pulled out her chair for her. He signed for the breakfast and then led her outside to the parking area where the BMW was parked.

"What's our first stop?" Amanda asked eventually, unable to hold back her anxiety any longer. "Where do we begin?"

"I've given it some thought." Drake replied, as he started the engine and reversed out of the Arminel's parking lot and into the deserted main road. "None of the authorities are going to take us seriously, until we have some proof regarding what happened to the busload of children, or more backup in the form of the other parents - we've seen that already! Hiking aimlessly through the forests won't help either, as it's hundreds of square kilometers to cover and we wouldn't know where to start. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack! Plus we'd probably need some specialized climbing equipment as I doubt they'd be on any of the busy hiking trails, which we're not going to find in this town."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I'm thinking we should back track along the road between here and Alice, possibly even further if necessary. Look for signs of any damaged barriers or recent skid marks. I know it's a terrible thought, but let's be realistic. A bus full of people doesn't just disappear into thin air - an accident is the most likely thing that could have happened, and out here in the middle of nowhere, it could explain why nobody has noticed it yet."

Amanda nodded. "Okay. You're right. What happens if we don't find anything, though?"

"Well, by this afternoon I'm guessing it's going to be chaos here in Hogsback. Mr. van Vuuren would have informed the other parents, there'll be police and helicopters and search parties, even journalists. We're going to have all the backup we need by then. I'm just working on a hunch that we might get a head start if we find something out on the roads before they even get here."

They had reached the end of the main road after a few minutes, and were now on the winding R345, more commonly referred to as Hogsback Pass. It was a thirty kilometer stretch from Hogsback to Alice with the first seven kilometers weaving along the mountain. They drove as slowly as they could, thankful that the road was hardly the busiest in the country. Amanda kept her eyes glued to the left hand side of the road, which was the side that ran along the deep valley gorge, separated from the road by a single metal barrier in places, and by nothing in others. In some places the drop off was incredibly steep, the bottom of the valley hidden from sight. Each time they passed one of these sections her heart skipped a beat as flashes of the school bus hurtling its occupants down to an almost certain death crossed her mind. Thankfully though the barrier was intact and showed no sign of an accident occurring. The first time a broken barrier came into view was about three kilometers into their search. She had Drake pull over to the side and climbed out, heart pounding.

He joined her on the side of the road as she stared down into the valley below. The sides of the valley at this point were mostly clear, only a few scattered boulders and small trees, and the incline was at around forty-five degrees, allowing a clear view all the way to the bottom. It took a few moments for her to find the rusted and twisted metal shape of a sedan resting on its roof near the valley floor – stripped of all the removable items leaving only the shell behind. It looked as if it had been there for a few years. Drake pulled her gently by the arm back in the direction of the BMW.

"Let's keep moving."

They covered another kilometer before a second section of broken barrier came into view. This time the drop off was much steeper, almost directly downwards. As Amanda approached the broken barrier, she noticed that it was rusted, which was an indication that it had been damaged a fairly distant time ago. She couldn't see any vehicles at the bottom of the valley, which was also thankfully clear of major vegetation and allowed an open view of the valley floor. There was a small stream which ran along the bottom, reflecting the topaz blue of the sky back at her. They returned to the BMW after a few minutes, confident that this was unlikely to be an area where the bus may have crashed.

There were several sections along the road where the skid marks of vehicle tires careened towards and sometimes into the roadside barriers, but the barriers were intact, obviously replaced at some or other point, as they were a slightly cleaner shade of metal than the rest of the adjoining barriers. They bypassed these as they drove. It was only a few kilometers from their previous stop that they came across a similar sight – a set of black marks across the tarmac, headed for a replaced barrier – which they almost ignored as well, but just as they passed it Amanda caught a flash of sunlight reflecting off the edge of the barrier a short distance further on. She waved at Drake to slow down and stop, and then jumped out and walked back to where she thought her eye had caught something. The barrier in question was still intact, but it was nicked at the top edge along a two meter section. It looked as if something had just caught it at the top, bending the metal backwards, but not crushing it or ripping it loose. The tarmac was slightly lower than the ground at the side of the road where they stood. This section of the Pass was on a sharp bend, high embankments on the right hand side of the road, and a fairly steep decline down the valley on the left, heavily wooded. The natural elements of wind and rain had pushed sediment up against the right hand side of the road, forming a pavement of sorts, hard and compacted sand, grass and small stones.

There was a clear tire indentation in the makeshift pavement, as if a vehicle had hit it hard enough to dislodge the compacted ground. Standing a few feet away in the middle of the road, Amanda lined the indentation of the tire up with the slightly bent edge of the metal barriers and then traced her eyes along the ground back towards her feet. The almost invisible set of light skid marks caught her eye a few feet ahead of her. Once they became visible to her, she could trace their path back up the road towards Alice, where they started a few short meters from where she stood on the incoming side of the road, careening off towards the pavement and barrier.

"Do you see this?" Amanda asked Drake excitedly.

"I do." He replied, following the faint grey path of the marks across the tarmac, stepping over the raised pavement and then pausing at the barrier.

The steep decline on the other end was densely packed with small bushes and trees, and descended at a sixty to seventy degree angle, a good few hundred meters down into the valley below, hidden from view mostly by the tops of the trees of the Amatola Forests. Amanda scanned the sections of the ground that she could see carefully, looking for anything that seemed out of place and not man made. It was difficult to clearly see what lay beneath the canopy of trees, made more difficult by the fact that the valley was still covered in the shadow of the mountainside behind them. It would be a few hours before the sun crept up over the hill and lit up the valley below.

"There's nothing." Drake said, after a while. "But it was a good sighting from your side. I would have missed that unbroken barrier for sure! Shall we move on? We'll be more observant the rest of the way."

Amanda nodded, but found it difficult to leave the side of the road. Her fingers were resting on the top of the barrier, tracing the shape of it. There was something about this spot, but she couldn't quite place it. It was an almost intuitive sensation in the back of her mind, holding her there and telling her to look again, to look harder. She gave the valley a once over again, irritated with herself for trying to see something that wasn't there. She was about to turn and join Drake at the BMW finally when a flash of bright color in the mass of dark green scenery below her caught her eye and made her pause. She leaned forward to try and spot the bright red color of it again, but it seemed to have disappeared. Taking a small step to the right suddenly brought it into view again. She frowned as she tried to decipher what she was seeing in the tree tops of the imposing hillside below. After a moment she recognized the strange object that seemed so out of place in the green vegetation around it. Her heart raced furiously at the sight of Jimmy's unmistakable red and black rucksack where it hung from the branch of a tree halfway down the mountainside! She tried to shout out to Drake, but her voice had faltered, and instead a black wave descended across her vision and ripped the rucksack away from sight again while she screamed in silence as the world around her faded away...

### Chapter 35

She came to again in Drake's arms. He was holding her gently, rubbing her cheek with his hand. For a moment she was disoriented, unsure of where she was or how she had come to be there, but the memories flooded back immediately when she noticed the steep mountainside behind Drake. She sat up quickly, Drake having to restrain her from moving too quickly.

"Take it easy." He warned. "Are you okay?"

Amanda nodded. "I'm fine. I'm sorry... it must have been the shock of seeing it..."

"Seeing what?"

"Jimmy's rucksack! Come, I'll show you!"

He helped her to her feet and followed her to the edge of the road, pausing at the barrier that overlooked the densely covered valley below. Amanda searched desperately for the flash of red that she had seen earlier, and when she couldn't find it again she started wondering if she was losing her mind.

"I swear! I saw it hanging from a branch in one of the trees below! It was there!"

"I believe you." Drake said calmly. "Let's keep looking."

"There!" Amanda yelled suddenly, pointing down the mountainside to her left. "There it is! Do you see it?"

Drake peered intently down towards where she pointed. He started nodding excitedly. "Yes! And you're sure that's Jimmy's?"

"Positive!"

"Crikey! It's an almost vertical drop down to the valley! There's no way we're climbing down here."

Amanda frowned. "My boy is down there! How do we get to him?"

Drake scanned the valley along the road, trying to find an easier route to the bottom. There was no easy way from here.

"We go back a few kilometers. Back to the more accessible part that we saw earlier. It's still going to be a treacherous climb, and then a hike through the undergrowth back in this direction, but it's the only way I can think of right now." He said.

"Let's go!" Amanda said excitedly.

"Not so fast!" Drake said. "We're going to need to head back into town. We'll need some supplies. Climbing equipment. Water. Medical supplies – just in case."

Amanda nodded. "You're right. But we need to get moving!"

"And we need to inform the police."

They made their way back to the BMW, a sense of urgency and excitement had overcome them. Amanda was confident that they would find Jimmy soon, and the thought made her so happy she felt like crying! As they drove back up the pass towards the mountain village, she nervously tapped her foot against the floor. Drake placed his hand on her leg.

"Relax." He smiled. "It's going to be okay now."

"Oh God I hope you're right! It's been three nights, Drake! Three nights that he's had to spend out in that jungle! I can't even imagine what he must have gone through!"

The Hogsback Police Station, which was more of a satellite office than a real police station, was the first building along the main road as they came into town, on the left. Drake pulled up in front of it. They made their way inside, into what was really only a single room with a single cell on the far side. A dozing policeman turned to look at them as they entered, surprised to see visitors. He jumped up and smiled broadly.

"Good morning! My name is Constable Mabitsela. How can I help you?"

"Morning." Drake greeted. "We need to organize a search party."

The young constable frowned. "A search party?"

"Yes." Amanda replied. "For some missing children. They were supposed to arrive at the school camp at Hobbiton on Friday already, but they haven't."

"Hobbiton? Are these the same children that my colleague from the Alice Police Station came to check up on yesterday?"

Drake looked excitedly at Amanda. "You mean a cop named Lutho?"

"Yes!" Constable Mabitsela smiled broadly, flashing white teeth against his dark African skin. "Gaxela. He came by here yesterday afternoon. I directed him towards the camp. He never returned, so I assumed he found what he was looking for."

"We've been struggling to get hold of him." Drake said. "His phone has been on voicemail."

"Have you spoken to the people at Hobbiton yet?"

"Yes, we have. They said the children never arrived."

"Oh my goodness!" The constable walked over to a small desk at the rear of the room and picked up a two-way receiver. He spoke to someone on the other side briefly, before returning to the counter, a concerned look on his face. "Constable Gaxela hasn't reported for duty in Alice this morning."

"He went to look for those kids!" Amanda said. "Something must have happened to him as well! Can you help us?"

"Hogsback is really small." Mabitsela said, gesturing around at the small office. "I'm the only one on duty here during the day. If we're talking about a search party I'm going to have to contact Search and Rescue in East London."

"How long will that take?" Amanda asked.

"I'm not sure, exactly. A couple of hours, I guess?"

"We can't wait that long!"

"Look." The constable leaned in towards them. "These mountains are very dangerous, and this won't be the first time we've had to send S&R in. Those guys are experts, and they know what to do. My suggestion would be to wait for them to get here."

"We have an idea of where they might be." Drake interrupted. "It's about five kilometers west of here, along the Pass. We'd like to get a head start on the search team. Could you at least recommend someone who might be able to help us get there? Someone local, perhaps?"

The constable nodded. "Sure. There's a local man who lives just outside of town, in the settlement. He spends most of his time in the forests, collecting clay for the vendors who make curios for the tourists – you know, the little clay hogs, and miniature Land Rovers."

"Sure." Drake nodded. He had seen them punting their wares on the side of the road as they had returned to town a few minutes ago. "And he can help?"

"Nobody knows the Amatola like he does." Mabitsela said. "If there is an easier route to where you want to go, he will know about it."

"How do we find him?" Amanda asked.

"His name is Cheese. Ask for him as you enter the settlement. Everybody knows him."

"Cheese?"

"Yes." The constable laughed. "Short for Chizama. In the meantime I will get hold of search and rescue in East London for you."

They gave him the directions to the point where they assumed the bus had jumped the barrier, and the young Constable took notes.

"Thank you so much." Amanda said when they were done. "You've been a great help!"

"Well, it's not the most exciting place to be, exactly." Mabitsela smiled. "I'm just glad I get to do my job!"

He gave them directions to the nearby settlement, just a few short kilometers through the village and up towards the mountains. They greeted him and returned to the BMW. As Drake pulled off in the direction of the settlement, Amanda felt a sense of relief. Things seemed to be falling into place now, they had an idea where to start looking for Jimmy, and they had the expertise of a local to assist them. Rescue teams would also be here later on in the morning, so it appeared that everything would work out! She knew not to count her chickens before they hatched though; it was one thing she'd learnt the hard way! Things could still go horribly wrong, and she had to keep her hopes in check! As they turned off the tar road and onto a bumpy gravel road just out of town, she looked at Drake and smiled.

"We're close." She said.

He nodded. "Yes we are!"

He pulled up next to a young woman who was headed out of the settlement just ahead of them, carrying a plastic maize bag on her head.

"Good morning." He said, as he wound his window down. "We're looking for a man named Cheese. Do you know where we can find him?"

The woman nodded, pointing up towards a nearby group of tin shanties and muttering something in Xhosa. Drake understood enough to decipher what she was saying. They headed off in the direction of the shanties, or shacks, as they were locally known, makeshift houses thrown together with pieces of scrap metal, corrugated iron and wood - they were a familiar site in the country – a reminder of the poverty that flowed through South Africa's veins like a deadly incurable poison.

It was a beautiful day; the sun had crossed the mountaintops, covering the valley below in a warm yellow glow, accentuated by the beautiful green of the natural vegetation in this part of the country. When they parked the BMW on a grassy hill at the side of the shacks, they noticed a few of the local Africans were already outside, curious to see the strange visitors from town. A few children ran towards the car, holding tiny clay models of the famous hogs that had given the area its name, shouting "Twenty Rand! Twenty Rand!" Drake waved them away and headed up the uneven pathway towards the nearest of the shacks. There was an old man sitting on a sofa in front of the shack, what looked like the removed double front seat of a Nissan 1400 pick-up. He was sucking on a homemade cigarette, the sweet smell of cherry tobacco wafting up towards them as they approached.

"Molo." He said, offering them the traditional Xhosa greeting.

The Xhosa's were the local tribe in the Eastern Cape. They had been here for hundreds of years before Jan van Riebeeck ever set foot on the continent back in 1652. Before then the southern half of Africa had been inhabited by a variety of African tribes, including the Xhosa, Zulu, Tswana and the original Khoikhoi who had inhabited the Cape at Cape Town. With the arrival of the Dutch, so too had slavery shown its ugly face. The cost of developing the untamed wilderness of Southern Africa had included countless lives lost, all in the name of wealth and industry. This had scattered the locals into the rural areas, forcing them to become dependent on the white man for the right to eat and live on their own land. It had taken 340 years for the locals to regain their freedom. With the abolishment of Apartheid back in 1994 and the election of Nelson Mandela, the first black president of the country, they had secured the rights of all South Africans under the new Constitutional law. This was one of the reasons the country was known as the "Rainbow Nation", due to its wide demographic population of whites, coloreds, Indians and blacks. The enemy was no longer the white man, but rather the egotistical greed of those in power. When it came to forgiveness, no man was more forgiving than the black man, and this was apparent in the greeting they received.

" _Gunjani_ " Drake said in Xhosa, which meant, 'How are you'.

The elderly African man nodded happily. "I'm good, thank you. What can I do for you?" His English was very good, surprising both of them.

"We're looking for a man named Cheese. Do you know him?"

"Yes. What is your business with him?"

"We are looking for a guide through the forests."

The old man chuckled. "Cheese does not work with tourists."

"No, we're not tourists." Drake smiled. "We're looking for some lost children."

There was a pause as the old man pondered this. "Children?"

"Yes." Amanda added. "My son is one of them. They went missing some time on Friday."

"Missing? In the mountains?"

Amanda nodded. "Please, sir. We really need this man's help."

"Hmm." The old man sucked hard on his cigarette, blowing sweet smoke up in the air which wafted towards them. "Missing children in the forest. That is bad news. But you are right; you will need the help of Cheese!"

"Great!" Drake clapped his hands, bowing his head in respect. "Thank you! Can you direct us to him then?"

"No need." The old man smiled, and then chuckled at the confused look on their faces as he stood up. "You have found him!"

### Chapter 36

At first Drake was convinced that they had made a mistake by asking the old man to be their guide through the immense forests of the Amatola, but once they had parked the BMW near the western end of town and headed off down a short path from the main road and onto one of the popular hiking trails, he changed his mind.

Cheese led the way, wearing a traditional African robe over a pair of shorts and a soccer T-shirt, barefoot and confident. He was carrying a stick with him, brightly decorated with African tribal insignia and patterns, which he used as leverage along the steeper sections of the path. He was obviously familiar with the terrain, as he led them at a pace which surprised them both, considering his apparent age. As they walked he regaled them with tales of the forest, cultural myths and legends which not only enthralled them, but also passed the time. They had followed the main hiking trail for about two kilometers before he paused at a large pine tree, overlooking a steeply descending bush-covered hill. There was a gap in the foliage through which they could see a distant peak of rocks, and the undulating flow of the forest beyond that towards a high peak.

"The place, of which you spoke, where the bus may have left the road, is there." He said, pointing at the furthest mountain peak. "This is the shortest way to reach it."

Drake studied the hill down which Cheese pointed with some reservation. "Are you sure? Wouldn't it be easier to approach from the roadside?"

Cheese chuckled again, a warm and friendly sound which had become his trade mark. "It is one thing for a bus to descend from the road, but quite another for a man..." he looked briefly at Amanda. "And even more so for a woman."

"It just seems like such a detour." Drake said.

"It is the safest route. When your men come with their hoists and machines, they will be able to use the short way. But with some difficulty." He added. "We will still reach the destination before they will."

Drake shrugged, glancing at Amanda. She nodded in reply.

"Okay. Let's go then."

"Stay close to me." Cheese said in a serious tone. "This is not the white man's well-trodden path. This way the mountain is untamed."

"What do you mean? Snakes?"

Cheese chuckled again. "Snakes are nothing. Make sure you are following my steps. The rocks have been known to break loose, and when they do they invite bigger rocks to join them. If you start a rockslide, it will not end before it has claimed a life!"

The stern warning had both Drake and Amanda carefully making their way down the hill, using the overhanging branches and vines to assist them and staying as close to their old guide as possible. The ground was very loose, covered in a thin layer of sand which threatened to send them rolling down the steep hill at the slightest misstep. Amanda was grateful for the quality pair of sneakers that she had borrowed from Elaine Winslow's closet. They were light and comfortable and gripped firmly on the slippery surface as they descended. Cheese, on the other hand, was barefoot, but this did not seem to bother him in the least. His feet were hard and crusty from years of walking through similar terrain, and Amanda marveled at his balance and agility, despite his age. After several minutes of painstaking climbing they had reached the bottom of the hill and found themselves in a densely overgrown valley of sorts. Cheese led the way towards their right, along the valley floor, carefully opening a path through the undergrowth with his hands as they went.

The valley wound for several kilometers towards the peak above them, an easier walk than they had imagined, with the undergrowth being mostly long grass and the occasional evasive vine or large-leafed plant. At several points along the hike they lost site of the nearby peak, and Amanda was certain they had changed direction and were heading away from their destination, but then it would come into view again, closer each time. Her legs were aching after a few hours of their snake-like walk. Drake noticed that she was panting heavily, and tapped Cheese on the shoulder, indicating that they needed a short rest. He rolled his eyes at them, but then smiled a toothless smile and chuckled.

"We should have brought some water with!" Drake gasped, realizing his throat was parched.

"Water is in abundance here." Cheese said dramatically, raising his arms and gesturing at the entire forest. "The sweetest water in the world!"

"I don't see any!" Drake grunted.

"That is because you are looking at the tree and not the forest." Cheese laughed. "Here, come with me."

He led them off to the side, towards a nearby outcrop of rocks. They followed him around them, and then down a short hill towards a reed-covered area. As they approached they could hear the sound of running water. He stopped near the reeds and pointed down at the small stream which ran along the valley floor.

"Is it safe to drink?" Drake asked thoughts of dysentery and diarrhea flashing through his mind briefly.

Cheese knelt down at the stream and cupped his hands in the water, which was crystal clear. He swallowed huge mouthfuls of it and then stood up. "I was raised on this water, as mother's milk!"

Amanda wasted no time and sat down on her haunches, cupping up mouthfuls of the icy-cold and delicious water. Cheese had been right; it was the sweetest water in the world! Drake followed suit, and by the time they were done they felt refreshed and revitalized!

"How far to go?" he asked the old man as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Not much. Come."

They made their way back up the short hill to where they had been, and then headed off again towards the west along the valley floor. The sun had reached a midway point between high noon and sunrise, and a quick glance at his wristwatch confirmed this for Drake. It was ten-thirty. They had been walking for two hours already. As they followed their guide through the seemingly untouched forest, having to climb over several smaller rock formations, and duck under a few huge fallen trees along the way, he began to realize why none of the children had found civilization yet. The route that Cheese took them on was the easiest route from the hiking trails to the point where the bus must have crashed, yet it was exhausting and confusing. He had lost direction at least three times, and they were struggling to keep up with the old man. A child, even an uninjured child, would never have found his way up the mountain from here!

It had been another hour's walk before they heard the sirens. The sound of them echoed through the valley around them, making it appear as if they were coming from all directions. They paused to look up at the towering mountain ahead of them, trying to spot the rescue vehicles, but they were invisible through the dense shrubbery.

Cheese clapped his hands. "I told you we would get there before they did!"

"How far still?" Drake asked.

"We are already there." Cheese smiled, pointing ahead at what appeared to be a dead end of tall trees and thick bush. "Through there."

They found new energy as they followed the old man towards and through the thick forest that appeared to deceptively block their way. After a short climb up another slippery hill, where at one point Amanda almost lost her footing and sent a small avalanche of tiny boulders back down the hill behind them, they reached the top and found themselves looking down at the small valley below them.

Amanda scanned the area quickly, trying to find any indication that the children had been there, but there was nothing to see except a thick covering of trees and rocks. Drake stood next to her and squeezed her shoulder.

"Come."

They followed the old man down the other side of the hill, stepping carefully on protruding rocks and ground-level branches. After several minutes they had reached the bottom and found themselves below the canopy of trees, in a new section of forest. The ground was covered in dark sand, interspersed with patches of short green grass and the occasional shrub. It was dark under the trees, the sun hidden from view by the canopy of leaves above them. Cheese led the way through the gloomy forest, unperturbed by the sharp twigs that snapped under his bare feet. After several minutes he paused and knelt down, pointing at the ground ahead of them.

"Someone has walked here."

Both Drake and Amanda crouched eagerly alongside the old man, peering at the ground where he pointed.

"I don't see anything." Drake said, after a few moments.

Cheese pointed out a broken stem of grass near his hand, and then at the slightest indentation in the moist ground. "The sign of a small person walking."

Amanda could barely make out the small footprint, but the more she stared at it the more obvious it became. Her heart started racing and she let out an uncontrollable sob.

Drake put his arm around her. "It's a good sign." He whispered.

Cheese stood up and continued walking, and they hurried to follow him, Amanda wiping tears from her eyes. They made their way through a maze of tree trunks and boulders, before they reached a small clearing at the base of the mountainside.

The first thing that Amanda saw was the bus!

### Chapter 37

The sight of the crumpled vehicle made Amanda's legs give way, and Drake had to prop her up under the arm to keep her steady. Staring at the mangled bus wedged against a broken pine tree a short distance up the steep hill, Amanda could not believe that anybody would have survived the accident! The path the bus had taken down the mountainside behind it seemed impossible! An almost vertical descent, through large trees and even larger boulders. There were signs of scattered parcels and baggage all along the mountainside, flashes of manufactured color that had no place between the natural greens and browns of the forest.

She regained her composure and started making her way towards the vehicle, with Drake and Cheese close behind her. As she rounded a chest high boulder, she stopped in her tracks.

"Oh my God!" she cried, holding her hands over her mouth.

Drake stopped at her side and stared at the sight before them. Two boys were lying on the ground, neither one older than twelve or thirteen. They seemed to be hugging each other, but on closer inspection it became obvious that they were not. There was a dark brown pool of dried blood underneath them, and a swarm of flies buzzed loudly around them. Amanda could see that the boy who lay at the bottom was dead. His throat had been ripped open, revealing an exposed trachea and tendons. She did not recognize his face, yet even in its twisted state she could tell that it wasn't Jimmy. The boy on top of him had his face turned away from them, buried in the gaping hole in the other boy's throat. Amanda's heart pounded loud enough for her to feel the vibration on her chest as she knelt next to the bodies. With shaking hands she lifted the second boy's head, it made a sticky squishy sound as it pulled away from the exposed throat of the other child. She turned the boy's head to look at his face, noticed the dark features of an African child, and then dropped it and fell back onto her rear, crying out.

"Jesus." Drake gasped. "Is it Jimmy?"

Amanda shook her head. "No."

Drake helped her up and they stepped past the bodies. Cheese was standing a few feet away, staring at the children.

"Evil has been here." He whispered.

The words sent shivers of fear down Amanda's back. She looked up at Drake questioningly. "What happened to them?"

Drake shook his head. "I don't know."

"What is that on his head?" Amanda asked, crouching down to get a closer look at the nearest boy.

Drake studied the small fingerlike encrusted protrusion on the back of the young boy's head, marveling at the flower-like shape at the top of it. "I don't know. I've never seen anything like that before!"

He pulled Amanda away from the bodies and they made their way towards the clearing near the bus, almost stepping on the makeshift beds that had been made around the small fireplace, now dead and blackened. There were two more bodies lying on the other side, but this time one of them was obviously an adult. Drake rushed past Amanda and stood over the corpses. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's not Elaine!"

Amanda approached his side, looking down at the face of the bearded man on the ground underneath the other body. "It's Mr. Klopper. He was the bus driver."

Drake tried lifting the other body off of Mr. Klopper's, but rigor mortis had already set in and the young boy's arms were wrapped around the torso of the older man. He had to physically grab one of the arms and force them free, and they made a horrible cracking sound. Amanda stared at the face of the boy, then at Drake, shaking her head.

Drake released the boy's arm, and then dusted his hands off. "Something feels wrong with his skin."

"What do you mean?" Amanda asked.

"It's all dry and scaly. Like a reptile's."

"Mr. Klopper's neck is also ripped open."

Drake nodded. "I noticed. And there's that strange stalk-thingy on the kid's head as well."

"What the hell is going on here?" Amanda asked.

"This is a bad place!" Cheese replied from behind them, and they turned to look at him. "The place of death!"

Drake looked at Amanda's concerned face. "It's their culture. Superstition, that's all."

"He's right though." Amanda replied. "I can feel it. This place is evil."

"How many people were on the bus?" Drake asked, trying to distract Amanda from the mumbling guide.

"I'm not sure. There was Jimmy and seven or eight other boys. And Mr. Klopper. And Elaine, of course."

"Well we've only accounted for four of them. There are at least six others, somewhere."

They scanned the rest of the makeshift campsite, but there were no other bodies to be seen. Amanda's eyes rested on the crumpled shape of the bus. Drake noticed this and nodded. He led her to a nearby log and had her sit down, gesturing for Cheese to stay with her, which he reluctantly did.

"I'll check it out. Wait here!"

He made his way over to where the bus rested against the broken pine tree, carefully stepping around the smashed windscreen on the ground near it. He stopped at the front of the bus and peered inside. He could see three more young boys lying awkwardly in their seats, pale and motionless, and from the stench that was emanating out from inside, he was certain they were also dead, and had been for some time. He knew that Jimmy had phoned Amanda yesterday, which probably meant that he wasn't any of the bodies inside the bus. He was about to turn and head back to where Amanda and Cheese waited when he noticed the large pair of dirty Nike hiking shoes on the floor in the aisle between the seats. It didn't take him long to figure out that they were still attached to a pair of feet and legs. He grudgingly stepped up onto the smashed front end of the bus and hoisted himself through the windscreen and onto the front seats. He leaned forward and peered over into the rear of the bus.

Elaine's form was unmistakable. He recognized her clothes immediately and the shape of her twisted legs across the prone body of the other man. Even though her face was turned away from him, he knew the hair thrown untidily across it was hers – the hair that was matted with thick black streaks of coagulating blood. She was wearing a watch on her arm, a watch that he had given her for her birthday two months ago. Her throat was ripped open, a gaping hole in her beautiful skin!

The man beneath her was covered in blood. It coated his face and clothes, and his arms were wrapped tightly around her neck. Drake noticed that same weird finger-like extension on the back of his head, the stalk with the flower-shaped bulb at the end of it, which would have been beautiful had it not been made from human tissue. Blood had gathered along the floor of the bus, and hundreds of flies were feasting on it. His stomach turned, and he gagged, swallowing vomit back down again. The stench was unbearable. The stench of rot. Of death.

He backpedalled hastily out of the bus, gasping for fresh air as he fell to the ground. Amanda rushed over, trying to see into the bus, but he pulled her away.

"Jimmy is not there." He said.

"How can you be sure?" she groaned, trying to break free from his grasp.

"He's not in there!" Drake said sternly. "Trust me."

Amanda looked into his eyes, and she could see the complete and utter sadness in them. She knew immediately what he had seen.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. "I'm so sorry!"

Drake breathed in deeply, swallowing hard. "It's okay. I was expecting the worst."

"She was still your sister."

He nodded. "And now she's dead. There is nothing I can do about that. But Jimmy is not in there, which means he might still be alive! At least two boys might still be alive!"

Amanda helped him up and they returned to where Cheese was standing, shaking his head from side to side, his eyes pressed closed, muttering under his breath.

"Cheese." Drake said, and then louder. "Cheese!"

The old man opened his eyes, and there was a fear in them which sent a chill down Drake's spine.

"Can you track the other children? They are not here. Which way would they have taken?"

Cheese shook his head. "This is the place of death!"

"Hey!" Drake shook the old man roughly by the shoulder. "Snap out of it! Which way?"

The cloud across the old man's eyes cleared suddenly. He looked back at the forest behind him for a moment. "Towards the rising sun."

"Okay. Lead the way."

They followed him as he headed for the dark cover of the trees, relieved to be leaving the rot of bodies behind them. He paused at the edge of the forest, carefully studying the ground in front of them. After a moment he stood up and pointed in a north-easterly direction.

"Two children went this way. One light of foot, and the other not."

"Jimmy!" Amanda whispered, and the word floated away into the forest in front of them, somehow darker and uglier than it had seemed a short while ago.

### Chapter 38

They followed their muttering guide through the forest for what seemed like an eternity. He would stop every few minutes or so to study the ground, or a plant or the branch of a protruding tree, mutter a few words to himself, and then change direction and quicken his pace. It was sometime near midday when he finally came to a stop at what seemed to be an almost vertical wall of rock that stretched away to the left for several hundred meters, seemingly dividing the forest in two.

"What is it?" Amanda asked, noticing the confused expression on Cheese's face.

"The two boys spent some time here." He said, indicating the ground that had been disturbed by two sets of footprints. "And then one of the boys climbed this rock." He showed them where the smaller footprints ended at the edge of the rock face immediately in front of them.

"And the other one?" Drake asked. He had been quiet, withdrawn even, since leaving the scene of the accident. Amanda knew how tough it must have been for him finding his sister's body in that bus, and she had decided that it would be better if she gave him the space he needed to deal with it on his own. Now that he had spoken up though, she moved closer to him, touching his arm gently.

"He went that way." Cheese replied, pointing to the left along the rock face.

"Let's go then!" Amanda said excitedly, starting to head off in the direction that the old man was pointing.

"First we must drink water." Cheese said, indicating that they follow him as he turned and headed off to the right.

Amanda was eager to find her son, but she also knew that the hike through the dense forests had dehydrated them enough that they would not get much further if they ignored the body's need for refreshment. She reluctantly followed Cheese, falling in behind Drake. He led them away from the cliff and towards a bushy area. As they got closer she could hear the sound of running water getting clearer. Cheese opened a path through the thick vegetation and paused at the fast running stream on the other side. They drank their fill, immediately feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. When they were done they made their way back to the cliff. Cheese headed past the point where the smallest boy, Jimmy – Amanda believed, had climbed the steep face of the cliff, and came to a stop about a hundred meters further on. He hunched down on all fours and moved the dirt around at the bottom of the cliff.

"The other one went up this way." He said eventually, straightening and staring up at the wall of natural rocks that stretched above them.

Amanda followed his gaze upward. The rocks had formed a natural wall that disappeared upwards for about five meters. From there it seemed to level off into a set of natural steps that continued climbing back the way they had come to the top of the other cliff which Jimmy had apparently climbed. Although it was a steep climb, there were several natural handholds which would make the attempt easier. She looked over at Drake for confirmation, and he shook his head, stopping her in her tracks.

"What's on the other side of this cliff?" he asked their guide, who had now taken a seat on a nearby rock.

"More forest." Cheese replied. "More cliffs. More mountains."

"So let's get moving then!" Amanda moaned. "If Jimmy went over here then we have to follow him!"

"It will take an hour to climb over here to the other side." Cheese said. "And from there it is another four hours to the nearest hiking trail. And from the hiking trail it is another four hours back to the village."

"More reason to get a move on." Amanda replied.

"The forest is not where you want to be at night." Cheese said somberly. "It... changes."

"What do you mean?" Drake asked.

"Without the sun guiding us even I could be leading you around in circles for hours. When we eventually realize where we are, we could be twenty or thirty kilometers away from anywhere."

Amanda felt a headache developing and sat down on a nearby boulder. "We're so close!" she cried. "I can feel it!"

"If you allow me to, I will return with you in the morning." Cheese said gently, sensing her despair. "There is a shorter way from the other side if we drive on the old road. It would be safer."

"The old road?" Drake asked.

"Yes. There is a gravel road that leaves the village on the other side, towards Cathcart. From there it is an easier hike back towards this cliff."

Drake patted the old man on the shoulder and then took a seat next to Amanda. He lifted her chin to look into her eyes.

"Cheese is right." He said. "It's a nine hour hike back to Hogsback if we cross these rocks, and that's if we don't get lost in the dark. Best case scenario we will only get back at ten tonight, and there's no guarantee we will find Jimmy and his friend, especially in the dark. Let's start fresh again tomorrow, from the other side, as he said, and meet them head on!"

"It's been three nights already." Amanda muttered. "Three nights that my little boy has had to spend in these damned mountains! And now you're asking me to leave him here for a fourth?"

"From what I've seen so far, he's a lot tougher than you give him credit for." Drake smiled. "He survived that bus accident, those attacks by the other boys... he even managed to get hold of a working cell phone and contact you. That would have been too much for some grown-ups to even handle!"

Amanda hung her head. "I know, Drake. It just feels like I'm abandoning him out here!"

"No, what you're doing is giving yourself the best chance of finding him! Think about it! What good are we going to be to him if we are lost ourselves?"

"Okay." Amanda sighed after a few moments. "You're right."

"Besides," Drake added "By the time we get back to the village it will be teeming with people who are here to help! Rescue workers, police and medical personnel! And there will be other parents... parents who would already know the fate of their own children. They will need our support."

"Oh my God." Amanda whispered. "Those poor children! How do you deal with that? How do you explain that?"

"It's not our place to." Drake said. "The police will figure it out eventually."

Cheese approached them from the side, and they both turned in surprise, having almost forgotten about the old man.

"If we are to reach the village by nightfall, we must leave now."

Drake offered his hand to Amanda, and she took it. It felt strange holding another man's hand again. After Geoff, she had promised herself she would never trust a man again, not while she still had Jimmy to think about. Yet here she was, allowing this strange man to lead her, direct her and comfort her. She was breaking her own promise, she realized, but she also sensed that Drake was not at all like Geoff had been. That he was, in fact, the furthest thing from Geoff! He was sensitive, and caring and concerned! For the briefest moment her mind flashed back to the early days with Jimmy's father, and she remembered how he himself had been then... sensitive, caring and concerned as well! How quickly we forget! The monster within was a master of disguise, and she had been blind to it once before... she could not fall into that same trap again!

She pulled her hand out of Drake's, sensing his disappointment and confusion, but avoiding any confrontation with him by hurrying along to catch up to the old Xhosa guide who led them back towards the village. Perhaps one day she would allow herself to trust a man again, but for now she could only focus on her son!

They walked in silence for most of the way, the first moment since they'd met that there had been an uncomfortable sensation between them. Amanda did her best to avoid any personal contact with Drake, but each time he touched her hand to guide her across or over an obstacle, each time his fingers gently held her waist as they made their way up a slippery hill, each time the skin of their arms accidentally touched when the path became too narrow to continue walking side by side, she couldn't help but feel an unmistakable electricity between them, a sensation that she wished with all her heart wasn't there! It was unavoidable though, and it was tougher knowing that his heart was still breaking over the death of his sister, but she could not allow herself to open up for him yet, despite that!

Cheese managed to ease the tension between them when he began telling them about the history of the forests and the mountains of the Amatola, a history that predated any civilized intervention; a time before the white man and even before the black man, about a time when the land was ruled by the spirits of their ancestors and the guardians of the earth. It was a pleasant distraction for Amanda, and she listened intently to the old man's ramblings, threw herself into the imaginary world of his tales. It was a simpler place to be – far away from the here and now of a lost son and a new romantic interest. She wished she could stay there forever, that would be wonderful! But it was only a thin sheet thrown across her mind briefly, and it was ripped away as they eventually reached the town again. A town now thrown into chaos!

The main road was a hive of activity. Several emergency vehicles lined both sides of the narrow road, from Fire engines to Ambulances and Police cars. The red and blue lights of the cars and vans lit the nearby buildings up, as if this was a street carnival and the grand event had just begun! But there was no happy music, or balloons, or the sound of children's laughter. Instead there was crying and screaming as one by one the tiny bodies, laid out neatly in rows on the front lawn of the library grounds, were covered with white sheets while their devastated families held each other helplessly in despair.

A carnival of death.

### Chapter 39

The once peaceful little village of Hogsback, nestled up in the Amatola Mountains, surrounded by thousands of acres of natural forests, waterfalls and streams, had been completely turned on its back. The locals had come out in confused groups to witness the goings on in the Main road, standing on their front lawns and sun decks to get a better view. The tiny road was lined on both sides with vehicles - including those of the distraught family members who had come to find their missing children or loved ones. Police departments from nearby Alice, Fort Beaufort and Cathcart had also joined the line of vehicles, as the news of nine dead bodies rapidly spread throughout the area. This was an unusual occurrence in the little village. Here people died of old age, or the occasional hiker fell to his death after straying off the marked hiking trails. There were never mass-deaths like this! There were never so many lives taken at one time! Not here! Not in this quiet little garden of Eden!

As is the norm in small towns, the rumors spread rapidly. Somehow questions had been asked about the way some of the deceased had died - throats ripped out, blood sucked dry. The violent and unexplainable actions were a cause for concern, and also for excitement. Theories floated around about what had happened to them, about serial killers, or wild animals, or ancient curses. There was really no end to the human imagination when it came to answering the unanswerable question. These rumors were strengthened by the arrival of the strange white panel vans which rolled into town just as night fell a few short hours later; a convoy of five unmarked vans which weaved their way past the Fire trucks, police cars, ambulances and the curious crowd of onlookers. They parked neatly behind each other at the furthest end of the road, switched off their engines and then exited the vehicles - four or five occupants per vehicle, suited up in bright yellow biohazard suits. They seemed unreal and out of place against the backdrop of the towering pine trees and mountains just as the sun had started to set.

Short on their tails was another convoy of vehicles, this time darker and more recognizable. The low rumble of eight military transport vehicles echoed through the darkening air, the smell of diesel smoke from their exhaust pipes quickly suffocating the scent of lavender and pine. Two of these trucks stopped at the entrance to the village, while two more made their way past the unmarked white vans and the men in their yellow space suits, and parked at the other end where the road led towards Cathcart. The rest of the trucks turned off to the right, down a gravel road, disappearing from sight. Soldiers peeled out of the parked trucks at each end of town, fully suited in their combat gear and heavily armed with R4 rifles. They lined themselves up across the road on both ends of town, placing heavy plastic barriers across the road and then waited patiently, staring back at the confused townsfolk and reluctant visitors. A Hummer came around the bend from Hogsback Pass at the Alice end of town, followed closely behind by a white Range Rover with government plates, and the soldiers opened up for them, allowing them to pass through before closing up the gap again. The vehicles came to a stop near the town's library, where the grisly scene of sheet-covered bodies were still laid out on the lawn, lit now by free-standing spotlights that the Medical service teams had set up.

A tall, well tanned and mustached man stepped out of the Hummer's passenger door and approached the nearest policeman, who was doing his best to keep the onlookers away from the makeshift cordon of red and white tape which they had strung up around the lawn area of the library.

"Who is that?" Amanda asked, pulling Drake nervously by his shirt. They were a few feet to the left of the library grounds, standing amongst a group of parents and representatives of St. Patrick's school, including Mr Hale, who had been overly welcoming when he had finally come face to face with the concerned mother and Elaine Winslow's brother.

"It looks like an army general." Drake replied, indicating the five silver stars on the lapels of stranger's brown coat. "South African National Defense Force, I'm guessing."

"Really?" Amanda sounded surprised. "The SANDF? What would they be doing here?"

"I'm not sure." Drake replied. "But I'm getting a bad feeling!"

He made his way along the cordon tape towards the road, brushing past the mass of medical personnel, photographers and journalists. Amanda followed close behind. He approached the General, who was now speaking to a police captain. Before they could reach him though, two of the soldiers who had been guarding the nearby road stepped in front of them.

"Please stay back." One of them said, a warning tone to his voice.

"I just want to speak to the General." Drake said, irritated and trying to edge his way past the two burly men, but he was pushed backwards by the nearest one, who then placed his hand threateningly on the rifle that was strapped across his chest.

"That won't be possible." The soldier growled menacingly. "Stay back."

Drake felt the anger building up inside him, a slow burn of rage that he had not experienced for many years!

"What the fuck is this?" he asked loudly. "This is not nineteen-ninety-two! What right do you have to stop me from talking to the man in charge?"

"Sir." The other soldier stepped forward now. "Please just stay back. The General will address the public at the appropriate time."

Drake chuckled. "Hey General!" he shouted suddenly at the top of his voice, and the tall official stopped talking to the Police captain and turned to look towards where Drake and Amanda were standing. A frown developed briefly on his forehead, before he turned away again.

"General!" Drake yelled again, and this time the man not only stopped talking, but also made his way over towards the makeshift barrier.

He was at least seven foot tall, towering above both Drake and the two soldiers who were blocking the way, the bulk of his body stretched against his official uniform, an indication of the strength beneath. He was wearing a military officer's hat, the same brown color of the rest of his SANDF uniform, but banded with a strip of scarlet red ribbon. As he approached he removed the hat, making his face visible under the upward glare of the spotlights and the weak streetlamps along Main rd. He had dark brown hair, combed neatly into a side path, deep-set brown eyes which straddled a finely chiseled nose, and well tanned cheeks which were pockmarked with the scars of childhood acne. His mustache was impressive enough to rival even Tom Selleck's, and sat boldly on his upper lip, accentuating the lines of his jaw and cheekbones.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked, and his voice was deep and booming, tainted ever so slightly with the twang of the Cape colored, distant descendants of the original Khoisan tribes who had welcomed the Dutch into the country many hundreds of years ago.

"Yes." Drake nodded, pushing his way past the two armed soldiers, who began resisting, but quickly stepped aside after a subtle nod from the General. "We'd like to know what exactly the military are doing here?"

"This is a sensitive situation." The General smiled, but there was no sincerity in the action. "We have our orders from above, which we will communicate shortly."

"That's not good enough." Drake said. "You can tell me what those orders are right now. My sister is one of the dead victims lying on the grass behind you there, and Miss Hoyer here is still looking for her missing son, so if you're here to help with that, then fine. If not, what purpose are you and your men serving exactly?"

The General's interest seemed to pique, and he focused his attention on Amanda, his voice slightly gentler. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Miss Hoyer. You have my word that I will do everything in my power to ensure your son is returned safely. What is his name?"

"Jimmy. James, actually."

"Is that why you're here?" Drake asked. "To help with the search and rescue?"

The General nodded. "Amongst other things, yes. Mr..." He looked quizzically at Drake.

"Winslow." he replied. "Drake Winslow. And you are?"

"I am General Arnold Peterson. Mr. Winslow, the consensus from above is that this is a potentially volatile situation, and requires a certain degree of control and order. As you can imagine, the news of this terrible tragedy is bound to spark national and even international interest. Until we have assessed the situation it would be unwise to just let it play out, so to speak. The media has, shall we say, a tendency to blow things out of proportion. With our country still growing into its post-Apartheid shell, it's in everybody's best interest to manage this as amicably as possible."

Drake chuckled. "You mean it's in the interest of the politicians who are playing for votes for the elections coming up next year, don't you?"

The General grinned, unperturbed by the insinuation. "As I said, we have orders."

"So who are the guys in the space suits?" Drake asked, pointing in the direction of the team of twenty or so yellow-clad men at the far end of town, who had begun unpacking an assortment of aluminum crates, tents and suitcases from their unmarked vans. "Are they with you?"

"Yes." The General replied. "They are with the Department of Medicine, assisted by representatives of the NICD and the World Health Organization, and are purely here as a precaution."

"What's the NICD?" Amanda asked.

"It's the National Institute of Communicable Diseases." Drake answered, just as the General was about to.

"Communicable diseases?" Amanda seemed confused. "That's for virus control and preventing the spread of diseases, right?"

Drake nodded. "Yes it is. Which bears the interesting question, General Peterson, why exactly is Hogsback being placed under military control?"

### Chapter 40

The General smiled. "At this point, it isn't. As I said, it's a precautionary measure."

"Sir?" A soldier bearing the three stripes of a military Sergeant had approached them from the side, saluting the General formally. "The men are awaiting your orders?"

The General nodded briefly at him and then turned back to Drake and Amanda. "If you'll excuse me? Miss Hoyer, perhaps we could meet later once I've settled in?"

Amanda frowned then nodded. "Sure."

The General left with the Sergeant, talking in low voices as they made their way towards the two nearest military transport vehicles, closely shadowed by two burly soldiers.

"Something smells funny." Drake said softly to Amanda as he led her back around the taped barrier to where Mr. Hale and some of the other teachers and parents from St. Patricks were waiting. "This is overkill, and that usually means trouble!"

"What's going on?" a parent of one of the dead student's asked as they approached. He was an African man, dressed in a business suit, his tie loosened and untidy, eyes red and swollen. "What did they say?"

The rest of the parents and teachers, along with a few locals, quickly gathered around Drake and Amanda, keen to learn more about the military presence in town.

"Not much." Drake said apologetically. "Just some bullshit about media control. It seems strange that they'd need a small army to manage a handful of local journalists, though, doesn't it?"

There was a murmur of agreement from the others, and they pressed for more information, but Drake had nothing concrete to give them. They bantered back and forth about the government and politicians for a few minutes before the businessman, whose name, they discovered, was Bonumzi Nkenke, an insurance salesman from East London, raised the issue of the yellow suits.

"They're from the Department of Medicine and the NICD, apparently." Drake told them, but found he was unable to answer any further questions about the reason for their presence at the scene. After a few minutes, and realizing that there was nothing new to learn from the two of them, the group scattered again, disappearing into the mull of people on Main Street. Finding themselves alone again, Drake took Amanda's arm and led her along the road towards where they had left the BMW parked earlier that day. It was at the entrance to the nearest hiking trail, in a small car park alongside the fencing. He opened her door and let her in, before hurrying around to the other side.

"Where are we going?" Amanda asked, curiously.

"Back to the hotel, for now." Drake said. "My phone is on charge and I need to make a few phone calls."

"About the army?"

"Yes, mostly. I have a few friends working at the parliament in Bisho. I'm hoping they can shed some real light on what's going on here!"

"How does this affect our plans for tomorrow?"

"It doesn't." Drake smiled reassuringly. "We head out at dawn, pick up our new friend Cheese and make for the old road to Cathcart."

"Okay." Amanda nodded. "I just need a hot shower and a bed right now. All this drama is too much for me! And I couldn't bear looking at those bodies any longer, you know?"

Drake nodded sadly. Amanda rubbed his shoulder gently. "I'm so sorry. I keep forgetting that your sister is one of them!"

"It's okay. It still has to sink in, I guess. There's a time for everything – even mourning. But not right now."

"Well, when you need a shoulder you know where to come to." Amanda smiled. "You've been so great in helping me look for Jimmy. I don't know how I'll ever repay you!"

"That won't be necessary. My reward will be seeing your son in your arms – alive and well!"

They snaked their way through the jam-packed road, past the parked military trucks, the ambulances, police cars, soldiers and journalists. They passed the library grounds, where the brightly lit sheets hid the silent bodies from the view of their loved ones. They passed the row of white panel vans and yellow-clad doctors and scientists, who were now setting up white canvas tents in the nearby front lawns of the guest houses and hotels along Main Rd. Just before the end of town, where the second group of soldiers were laying out more plastic yellow road barricades across the tarmac, they turned in to the parking area of the Arminel Hotel, which was now filled with vehicles as the out-of-towners had rushed to book accommodation for the night wherever there was still a bed available.

They passed through a throng of people in the reception area, a large percentage of them were journalists, and made their way out the swinging doors to the buildings that housed the rooms behind the hotel. Drake paused at Amanda's room.

"Grab a quick shower and then meet me next door. I'll order us some room service."

"I'm actually quite exhausted." Amanda said. "I think I'm just going to hit the sack."

"No ways." Drake insisted. "You have to eat something. We're leaving early tomorrow and there could be hours of walking ahead of us. You need the energy!"

What Drake said made sense, and Amanda agreed eventually. "Okay. Give me fifteen minutes."

He left her and headed for his room. Amanda unlocked her door and slipped inside. She flicked the lights on and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her shoes off. Her feet were aching and the release from the boundaries of the tight hiking shoes felt fantastic. She wiggled her toes in an effort to return some life to them. She hadn't realized just how unfit she was until right now. They must have hiked a good fifteen to twenty kilometers today! She stood up off the bed and headed for the shower, pulling her sweaty t-shirt off as she walked and tossing it on the floor of the small bathroom. She ran the water as hot as she could bear before climbing in and soaking in the heat of it. By the time she was done her skin was stinging and red, but she felt rejuvenated. She dressed in a navy blue tracksuit with pink striping, a fresh white t-shirt and a pair of fluffy pink slippers before leaving the room and knocking on Drake's door.

He opened it wearing only a white towel around his waist and talking on the cell phone. He gestured for her to come inside as he continued speaking to the person on the other end of the line. Amanda couldn't help but admire his physique. He was lean and fit, muscles rippled down his back and across his abdomen, his pectoral muscles bulged just enough to be incredibly attractive, but not so much that he looked like a steroid-filled weight-lifting nut. It was definitely the body of a surfer - Amanda had known a few in her younger days, and they all developed particular muscles required for the sport. His skin was tanned a golden brown and she could see fine blonde hairs running down the lower end of his back, disappearing beneath the point where the towel wrapped his waist.

The scar was there as well, and it caught her by surprise for a moment. Smooth white welts of healed skin in a semi-circular shape which arced from mid point on his back and around towards the front of his stomach. Strangely enough though, instead of detracting from his obvious attractiveness, it only emphasized it!

Drake had ended his call and caught her staring at his scar, and she blushed, looking away instantly. "My friend is out." He said. "He'll phone me back."

"I'm sorry." Amanda said sheepishly, indicating the scars. "I didn't mean to stare."

"It's okay." Drake smiled. "I'm not offended. They're a part of who I am, and a reminder of who I was." He traced his finger along the curved shape of it. "Five years ago I was surfing the reef at Nahoon with some mates. It was a cloudy day and the water was dark and dirty. That is always a bad sign for a surfer, but a south-easter was blowing, and the swell was incredible, so we couldn't resist; five to six feet, smooth and beautiful waves, the perfect conditions!"

"You really don't have to explain." Amanda said. "It's absolutely none of my business."

"I know. But I want to."

Amanda smiled. "Okay."

"Anyway, we'd been out for about an hour when I felt a bump against my leg. I knew instantly what it had been - it wasn't the first time, you know? Being out there, half a kilometer from the shore, straddling a flimsy fiberglass board, panicking wouldn't help at all - in fact, it would only make it worse. So I ignored it. My best friend, Bruce, was a few meters away from me, and I called out to warn him that a shark was in the water with us, and just as I did it grabbed him from below. A huge tiger shark! Razor-sharp teeth! It ripped his leg clean off in a matter of seconds."

"Damn!" Amanda whispered. "That's terrible!"

"I paddled out to him immediately, the water was red with his blood, and I knew this was only going to attract more sharks. They hunt in packs, you know. Like wolves. He'd passed out already from the pain or shock or loss of blood, I'm not sure, so I lay him across my board and started heading for the shore, leaving a trail of blood for the bastards to follow."

"That must have been a horrible thing to experience!" Amanda said. "I can only imagine..."

Drake nodded. "It was pretty bad, probably the worst moment of my life. The funny thing is that I almost made it unscathed to the beach. The water couldn't have been more than five to six feet deep, the waves were breaking all around us, and I could see people on the beach had gathered and were ready to help us. And that's when the second one got me. It came from the side, bit through my board and almost through me. I found myself floating in the water, the most intense pain of my life, clutching my abdomen and trying to keep my insides in place with my hands, while my best friend was going underwater a few feet away from me and there was nothing I could do!"

"Did he make it?"

Drake shook his head sadly. "No. He never surfaced again."

"How did you get out?"

"A couple of lifeguards swam out and dragged me in. I spent almost two months in hospital. Luckily it missed my major organs. I haven't been back in the water again since then, even though surfing is in my blood. I go down every day and watch the other surfers - thinking maybe someday I'll catch a glimpse of Bruce out there. It's crazy, I know!"

"Wow." Amanda breathed. "That's an incredible story."

They were interrupted by a knock on the door and looked at each other in surprise.

"Expecting anyone?" Amanda asked.

### Chapter 41

The soldier who greeted them as they opened the door was a large man. He was dressed in camouflage military fatigues, his hair shaved short, and he was carrying an R4 rifle, strapped to his chest. Amanda recognized him as the Sergeant who had called the General away earlier.

"Miss Hoyer?" he asked, his accent laced with the twang of the South African Afrikaner, descendants of the original Dutch settlers. He was wearing an embroidered name badge which read: Van Rooyen.

Amanda frowned. "Yes?"

"I've been asked by General Peterson to extend an invitation to come and see him."

Amanda looked at Drake in confusion, and he shrugged and then nodded.

"Okay." She replied. "Let me just get some shoes on. We'll be right there."

"He asks that you come alone." The soldier added, giving Drake a threatening once-over stare.

Drake chuckled. "That's not going to happen, pal."

"Sir." The soldier leaned forward menacingly. "I've been given an order."

"I wouldn't get so close." Drake smiled. "I used to be a mechanical bullfighter."

A confused look immediately came over the soldier's face, and Drake chuckled. "That's what I thought. Move aside Dumbo."

The large man, obviously realizing he was being made fun of, straightened to his maximum height. "Miss Hoyer comes alone!"

"Listen." Amanda interrupted, sensing that the playfulness would end soon based on the intensity of the stare-off the two men were having. "If the General wants to see me, then my friend here comes with. Otherwise the General is welcome to come here instead. It's your choice?"

Van Rooyen frowned, considering his options for a moment. "Very well," he said eventually. "Follow me, then."

He waited for them on the grass patch across from their rooms, while Drake pulled on a tracksuit and Amanda hurried next door to put shoes on. When they was done she and Drake fell into step behind the big man as he made his way through the bustling hotel reception area and out into the now overcrowded parking lot. There was a military Hummer waiting for them in the main road, and the soldier opened the rear door for them as they climbed in. A second soldier was driving the vehicle, and he made a u-turn and headed back towards the entrance of the town, turning off to the left just before the yellow barricade which had been erected and was being manned by a team of four armed soldiers. They were on a bumpy gravel road which continued for a few kilometers before they pulled up alongside an open field where several military tents had been set up next to the other four military transport vehicles.

Van Rooyen then led them through the rows of tents to a larger tent near the rear of the makeshift camp. He asked them to wait outside while he entered the tent, and exited again a few moments later, looking embarrassed and slightly irritated. He gestured for them to enter, and then marched off angrily between the other tents.

Drake held the tent flap open for Amanda and then followed her inside. There were a few lead lamps which had been erected in the tent, so the inside was brightly lit. It was sparsely furnished, just a large stretcher and chest of drawers to the one side, with a metal fold out table in the center of the tent which doubled as a desk, behind which the unmistakable figure of General Peterson was seated. A second table had been set up to the right, with a laptop, two-way radio and a large piece of equipment which she did not recognize, about the size of a briefcase, and painted green. The General stood up to greet them as they approached, smiling broadly.

"Ah. Thank you so much for coming, Miss Hoyer!" He gave Drake a courteous nod, as he took Amanda's hand in his, shaking it warmly.

"What is this about?" Drake asked.

"It's nothing serious." The General smiled, glancing over at him. "I was just hoping that Miss Hoyer would have an idea of where we could start searching for her missing boy."

"Why are you offering to help us?"

"Mr. Winslow." General Peterson shook his head disapprovingly, the way one would shake his head at a puppy that messed on the floor. "That is why we are here, to help!"

Drake grunted. "Forgive me if I seem a bit amused. I've never known the military to be very helpful, personally speaking."

"You're forgiven." Peterson said. "It's the general consensus when dealing with members of the public who have no experience with the military. It's not your fault."

"Oh I've got experience." Drake interrupted. "I've had my share of military service. I've been there and done that, so I think I speak from some authority."

"Really?" the General seemed genuinely surprised. "How interesting! And where exactly did you serve?"

"First South African Infantry, based in Bloemfontein." Drake replied. "1992 originally, and then several follow up camps."

"Ah." The General raised his lips briefly in an attempt at a smile. "Pre-democracy."

"Pre-bullshit." Drake added.

The two men stared at each other for a moment; neither one wanting to back down from their viewpoint, until eventually the General turned his gaze back to Amanda.

"I have men and equipment at my disposal. Experienced and fit men. If there is anyone who can find your son, it is us."

"I appreciate that, General." Amanda replied. "I really do. We'll take any help we can get."

"Good." The General replied. "So do you have any idea where he or Marko Machado might be?"

"Marko who?" Amanda had no idea who the General was talking about.

"The boy who was with your son, we are guessing. There were eight boys from St. Patrick's school who boarded that bus on Friday last week, and we have accounted for only six of them. James Phillip Hoyer and Marko Machado are still missing - presumed alive."

Amanda's heart skipped a beat at the words. Presumed alive. They filled her with hope! She realized that Drake had a personal issue with the military, but for now she was more concerned with finding her son, at whatever cost! If the General and his men could help her do that, she'd grab the opportunity with both hands!

"That makes sense." She said. "Cheese mentioned two people had walked away from the bus."

The General tilted his head to the side. "Cheese?"

"Our guide from this morning."

The General took a step backwards, seemingly shocked by the statement that Amanda had just made. "So you've been in the forest? At the crash site?"

Amanda nodded. "Yes, this morning. We tracked the boys to a cliff about three kilometers from the bus, but then we lost their trail."

"And where can we find this Cheese person?"

Drake stepped inbetween Amanda and the General, who frowned angrily at him. "How about we ask some questions, now?"

The General turned and walked to his fold up desk, taking a seat behind it and gesturing for Drake to continue.

"What are you doing?" Amanda asked, pulling Drake by the arm, but he motioned for her to wait as he addressed the General.

"Your offer of help in this routine search and rescue is very noble, General Peterson, but you and I both know that the military do not use their valuable resources for such mundane tasks in usual circumstances."

"Things have changed since 1992," General Peterson started saying, but Drake stopped him in his tracks.

"Bullshit! This is the military we are talking about! Why are you beating around the bush with us? What's really going on here?"

"I don't appreciate your tone, Mr. Winslow."

"I don't give a shit."

"Well, perhaps you should." The General stood up from his chair and towered over Drake and Amanda. "And please remember that you are talking to an official of the South African government. A little bit of respect is in order."

Drake laughed. "Respect? You come into this village under the pretense of controlling the media coverage on this terrible tragedy. A tragedy that involves the deaths of innocent children - children whose parents are now emotionally traumatized for life! You barricade the roads in and out of Hogsback, placing soldiers who are armed with semi-automatic rifles to guard them, and then allow both the NICD and the Department of Medicine to set up camp along Main Rd. And all this time you have said nothing to any of the people affected by what happened to those kids! And you want to talk to me about respect?"

"I can understand your frustration, Mr. Winslow. But you need to realize that I am also just following orders."

"Oh, I'm not frustrated, sir. Confused, yes! But not frustrated! Why are you really here? What are your intentions?"

The General started opening his mouth, as if to speak, but then closed it again and instead stared down at his desk. When he eventually lifted his head to look at Drake, a cold calmness had appeared in his dark brown eyes.

"I think this conversation is over." He looked at Amanda. "Miss Hoyer, as discussed, we will endeavor to help you find your son, regardless. Thank you for coming to see me, and goodnight." The General walked around his desk to the entrance of the tent, lifting the flap for them. "My men will give you a ride back to the hotel."

They left the tent and returned to the Hummer, escorted once again by the burly Van Rooyen. As the vehicle pulled away from the camp and back towards town, Amanda turned angrily to Drake.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked. "They're only trying to help!"

"Don't be so naïve..." Drake started saying, but paused when his cell phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out to answer it. He spoke briefly, listened for a few moments and then hung up the phone and stared out the window.

"You're incredible, you know that!" Amanda was fuming by this time, and she was not afraid to show it!

Drake looked at her and frowned, then leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Maybe, but what's even more incredible is what I just learnt from my friend in Bisho!"

There was an ominous tone to his voice which sent a chill down Amanda's spine, despite the warm summer evening air.

### Chapter 42

After they were dropped off, Drake insisted on ordering room service before he told Amanda what he had learnt from the mysterious phone call. The meal of chicken schnitzel in a creamy mushroom sauce, with sides of French fries and salad, arrived shortly after Drake had finished changing into a pair of knee-length board shorts and a Billabong t-shirt. He took the tray from the waiter and tipped him ten bucks. Amanda opened two cans of beer for them from the mini-bar and then sat cross-legged on the bed across from Drake, listening intently as they ate and sipped the smooth lager.

"I have a friend in the Department of Agriculture at the Legislature buildings in Bisho." Drake told her. "He knew about the buzz in Hogsback before I even got to tell him anything! Apparently this is big news locally!"

"You mean the accident?"

"Well, yes. But mostly around what they discovered at the scene. You know... the bodies with their throats ripped out. And, of course, those strange protrusions from the heads of some of them - you remember those?"

Amanda nodded. "Yes! I do! With the flower-shaped ends, you mean?"

"Exactly! Well, it turns out they are suspecting some sort of viral infection. That's why the NICD are here! And the fact that the World Health Organization also has representatives in town, that can only mean one thing!"

"And that is?"

"Quarantine!"

"I don't understand." Amanda frowned. "What does that entail?"

"It means they suspect a virus of some sort, something beyond anything they have any known knowledge of, and until they have worked out how infectious it actually is and where it came from, they're not going to be letting anybody leave this mountain!"

Amanda felt herself go pale. "Virus? Dammit, Drake! If those kids were infected by it, that means Jimmy might be too!"

"That's a possibility." Drake replied. "But I'm more concerned about what they're going to do with him if they find him still alive!"

"What do you mean?"

"The first thing these guys look for in a situation like this is a live sample of the virus."

The room seemed to be tilting, and Amanda had to physically steady herself against the bed. "Are you saying what I think you're saying? They think Jimmy's infected and want to use him as a guinea pig? A lab rat?"

"The General seemed pretty interested to hear about the boys that were still missing in those forests, and he's even more interested in helping to find them! Think about it! The virus has probably died with the bodies they already have, so they won't have much to learn from them. But a live specimen, that's what they must be after!"

"They're not touching my son, dead or alive!" Amanda's voice broke with emotion as she said the words. "They're not touching Jimmy!"

"I've seen this kind of thing before." Drake sighed. "There was an outbreak of a new strand of malaria in the Congo about fifteen years back. My unit was sent as support for the South African medical representatives as part of the World Health Organizations efforts to develop a vaccine. They traced the outbreak to a small village in the south, and implemented a similar quarantine. Nobody leaves! The orders were to shoot to kill."

"What!" Amanda cried. "Are you serious?"

"Understand the implications from their side." Drake explained. "Control the infection by limiting the spread. Develop the vaccine with as little loss of life as possible. Malaria killed hundreds of thousands of people a century ago - sacrificing a few lives for the greater good is how they justified it!"

Amanda stood up, pushing her food aside. She had suddenly lost her appetite. She took a long swallow of the ice cold beer instead. What Drake was saying seemed crazy, yet she could not argue with him. Outside in the streets there were military soldiers and men in biohazard suits! This was not a distant dream or the imaginings of a single man... this was happening! Right now!

"How bad can it get?" she asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Bad." Drake sighed. "Really bad! Whatever this new virus is that they think they've discovered, if it turns out to be uncontrollable, or unmanageable... they may just decide to purge."

"Purge?"

"Destroy the entire area. Wipe the slate clean. Kill everything. Anthrax, nukes, chemical weapons... who knows?"

Amanda's breath was taken away. "Come on, you can't be serious? This is not some science fiction novel! This is real life! These are real people! The people who live here, work here - the receptionist at the hotel, the owner of the supermarket, the grandparents who own retirement homes up on the mountain, the parents of those children? Are you saying they're all in danger, that our government would literally wipe them off the face of the earth because they don't understand some virus?"

"Not just our government." Drake added. "The governments of the world - the United Nations, the World Health Organization - all of them would make a collective decision, and it would be carried out with their joint approval, regardless of the opinion of any one government or people."

"This is not the eighteenth century!" Amanda exclaimed. "Human beings don't do that to each other anymore, do they?"

"Not officially." Drake sighed. "But that's the whole point of quarantine, isn't it? The less people who know about it, the better off they are. How do we know how many new viral infections have been prevented this way?" Drake could tell that the conversation was scaring Amanda, and he walked over and held her in his arms. "Look, I'm not saying that is what they are going to do, but they are prepared for it - just take a look outside!"

"It all sounds so crazy!" Amanda said. "What about Jimmy? He's in the middle of all of this!"

"That's the scary part." Drake said softly. "Your son may just be the most important person on this mountain right now, and I have a feeling that General Peterson knows that as well. We have to find Jimmy before he does!"

"Oh my God!" Amanda's knees felt weak, and she had to sit on the bed again. "I just told General Peterson where to start looking for Jimmy! I've handed him to them on a silver plate! They're probably sending soldiers out as we speak!"

"I doubt it." Drake said. "These forests are a maze at night. They are probably planning a grid search for tomorrow morning first thing. If those boys are out there, the General will have them by lunch time!"

"We can't let that happen!"

"We won't. They will start their search from where the accident happened, heading for the cliff we were at this morning. We'll grab Cheese and access the forest from the other side, with any luck we'll find them before the General does. But we'll have to leave really early! I'm thinking four am, before sunrise."

Amanda nodded eagerly. "Okay. But how are we going to get around that barricade on the Cathcart end of town?"

"Leave that to me." Drake smiled. "Get some rest and set your alarm for three-thirty. I'll come and get you then."

"Okay." Amanda headed for the door, but paused with her hand on the handle. She turned back to face Drake. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"What do you think they will do to Jimmy if they find him first?"

Drake shrugged. "I wish I could tell you, but I don't know. If he is infected with this virus or whatever, they're going to need live samples of it. Whether that will be blood or tissue samples, I can't say."

"I don't understand though. If there is a virus, why has nobody else in town been infected yet? Surely with all these reporters and police and everything somebody would have picked it up by now? What if there is no virus, and they are hunting Jimmy down for nothing? What if he gets hurt - or worse?"

"Do you remember the story I told you about my friend, Bruce, the one who was taken by the shark?"

Amanda nodded. "Yes?"

"Well, I go down to the beach every day that I can, and I sit on those dunes and I watch the surfers catching waves for an hour or two. I don't do that because I'm foolish enough to think that Bruce will come back from the dead somehow - that one day I will see him magically sitting on that surfboard, feet dangling in the water while the sun sets behind him - I'm not that crazy!" Drake waved his forefinger in circles around the side of his head. "I do it because one day I might spot another surfer in trouble, and I might get the opportunity to make up for letting my best friend down. I might save another person's life and equal the score card with God."

Amanda walked over to where Drake was sitting and ran her hand through his golden brown hair. She looked into his eyes - so green and mysterious - and for the briefest moment she felt her heart skip a beat - a sensation she had not felt in almost eleven years.

"You risked your own life to save your friend's. If anybody is keeping score, then in my books you're already one ahead! Don't be so hard on yourself, Drake! You are a good man, a kind man, and anybody who gets to know you will say the same!"

"I failed with Bruce." Drake replied, and there was a determined edge to his voice. "I failed with Elaine too. But I will not fail with Jimmy. I promise you!"

"I know." Amanda smiled, leaning down and kissing him gently on the forehead. "But whatever happens, you've already done more than your share! Remember that! Get some rest. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight." Drake said softly. "And hey, Amanda, thank you."

"Why?" Amanda asked as she opened the door of his hotel room.

"For bringing me to my sister - I'm glad I found out the way I did." His voice cracked with emotion. "It was better than finding out from a soldier or a policeman and never knowing the real truth."

"Get some rest." Amanda said again. "And I wish I could say it was a pleasure, but it really wasn't... it could never be. Elaine is still with you - even right now. She always will be."

She stepped through the door and left him to start the grieving process - it was overdue and necessary.

### Chapter 43

The sound that woke her was strange and foreign to her ears. It sounded like popcorn popping in a microwave, distant and unclear, but loud enough to force her out of her dream. She sat upright in the comfortable bed, the sheets hugging her body tightly, soaked with the sweat of a warm night and restless sleep. The popping sound was still continuing, and she stepped out of the bed, slipping her bare feet into the pretty pink slippers borrowed from a dead woman, before shuffling over to the window adjacent to the door. She pulled the thick curtains aside, peering out into the darkness of the back end of the hotel, trying to see what was causing all the noise. The vague dim shapes of the few trees in the courtyard outside her room stared back at her emotionlessly, unmoving and silent.

She still had her nose pressed to the glass when the face appeared suddenly, pale in the moonlight, scaring her to the point where she had to stifle a scream! Drake placed his finger to his lips, and then motioned for her to join him outside. Her heart was still pounding from the fright she had just received as she unlocked the hotel room door and opened it, allowing a fresh cool breeze to waft into the room. It carried with it a strange scent which seemed out of place in this beautiful mountain area, a metallic smell tinged with a hint of almost smoky aftertaste.

"What's going on?" she whispered, hugging her arms against her chest to fend off the sudden change in air temperature. She was wearing a thin night gown, braless underneath, and was excruciatingly aware of the fact that her nipples that were standing up against the smooth fabric.

"Gunfire." Drake replied. "Coming from out in the road. I'm checking it out - you coming?"

Amanda nodded, a sensation of fear developing in the pit of her stomach. She had never come close to a gun before, and hearing one being fired repeatedly was a terrifying experience! She followed Drake as he made his way through the grassed courtyard and around the side of the main building of the Arminel Hotel. It sat atop a small rise, and as they reached the front of the building they could look down towards the main road, with a clear view almost from end to end. The scene that greeted them sent a chill through her body that rivaled even the cool air.

"Oh my God!" she whispered.

Main Road looked like a battlefield. Directly in front of them, and about thirty meters from where the barricades had been set up by General Peterson's men, three cars had been parked hastily across the road. There were suitcases packed on the roof racks of one of the vehicles, and a second one had a small Venter trailer attached to a tow bar behind it. Three people were crouched behind the nearest car, holding pistols and hunting rifles. To the left of the cars, near the ditch at the side of the road, a fourth person was laying face down - motionless and bleeding. Two more people were lying awkwardly in the road in front of the convoy, also seemingly dead or close to being dead, and behind the wheel of the furthest car, an old Land Rover, she could just barely make out the shape of a woman slumped over the steering wheel. There was movement in the rear of the vehicle, and Amanda's heart almost stopped at the sight of three young children peering over the edge of the seats towards the barricade.

As they watched, one of the men stood up from where he had been crouched behind the nearest car and fired his pistol at the soldiers who guarded the barricade. The popping sound of the pistol drafted up through the air towards where Amanda and Drake stood, and then the quick sound of automatic gunfire being returned followed soon thereafter. The man below jerked erratically for a moment, taking a wild step backwards, before a spray of red liquid filled the air behind his head and he collapsed to the tar.

Amanda was about to scream, but Drake quickly placed his hand over her mouth and stifled it. She couldn't believe what she was witnessing. These people were being mowed down by the soldiers! Those were families down there! Mothers, fathers and children! It seemed too unreal and for a second she almost thought that she was still dreaming, but there was no denying the reality of the situation - the pressure of Drake's hand over her mouth, the sound of the guns, the smell of gunpowder.

Drake dragged her backwards, around the edge of the building, out of sight of the mini war that was taking place in the road. He removed his hand from her mouth and turned her to face him, warning her silently to be quiet.

"What the fuck is going on?" Amanda hissed, almost hysterically.

"It's happening." Drake replied softly.

"What is?"

"Quarantine."

The word seemed to struggle to penetrate her ears, jumping around crazily near her eardrums, resisting the desire to be absorbed by the tiny bones that would relay the message back to her brain. She shook her head in denial.

"No. That was just a theory. It couldn't possibly be..."

More gun fire erupted in the night air, and a new sound was accompanying it now. She could hear vehicles racing along gravel roads, the roar of their big engines, and the crunch of sand beneath their tires. Two military transport vehicles burst into view down at the other end of Main Rd, from the direction of the military camp, followed closely by the familiar shape of the General's Hummer. Even as they approached the rear end of the three-car convoy parked across Main Rd, the soldiers in the trucks had started firing. The sound of bullets penetrating metal, and glass breaking, slammed through the air, a cacophony of noise, a weird symphony of death.

"Those children!" Amanda screamed and started running towards the road, but Drake grabbed her roughly and pulled her back out of sight. She struggled against him furiously, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly against his body, shielding her ears and her eyes from the terrible sounds that were following. After what seemed like an eternity the shooting stopped. The silence of an isolated mountain village returned to its rightful place, and the world started turning again. Drake released her slowly, wiping her tears away with the back of his hand.

"Ssshhh." He whispered. "It's okay. It's all going to be okay."

Amanda shook her head. "No. It can never be! Those were children down there! Families! Why, Drake? Why would they do this?"

"I guess they were trying to leave town." Drake sighed.

"Is this really happening? Quarantine? Are we all just prisoners in this village now?"

"It would seem that way. Look!" Drake pointed towards the road, where several people had started gathering, pouring out of the hotel and the nearby Bed and Breakfasts and homes. They lined the street on both sides, gawking at the scene of the massacre, some were crying and moaning, others were shouting angrily. A few even took out cameras and started flashing away at the tomb of cars, and at the soldiers who stood proudly on both ends of the road. There was a slight surge of the small crowd towards the barricade, but the soldiers raised their weapons and the townsfolk and visitors retreated again. The protestations flared up briefly, before General Peterson was seen climbing up onto the bonnet of the Hummer, a loud speaker in his hands. He turned it on, and feedback squealed briefly.

"Ladies and gentlemen." Peterson addressed the crowd of onlookers, as even more were pouring out of the nearby buildings. "Please remain calm."

There were angry shouts in reply, and the General held up his hand for silence.

"Please. I know there must be some confusion amongst you right now, but I assure you that everything is under control. What has happened here is unfortunate and unnecessary. These men, these soldiers, have been forced to defend themselves against a violent attempt by these people to pass this barricade. Under instruction from the highest authority, we have been tasked with maintaining a certain level of containment for this town."

"What does that even mean?" an angry resident shouted from the crowd below.

"I know you have hundreds of questions, and I can assure you that they will all be answered in time." The General's voice echoed around the town, and Amanda found herself developing an enormous dislike for it. "But for now, what is important to understand here, is that the town of Hogsback and the immediate surrounds have been temporarily declared as a national disaster area, and until such time as it has been cleared again, we cannot allow any of you to leave!"

"That's bullshit!"

"What about our Constitutional rights?"

"Who do you think you are?"

The comments flew angrily from the crowd, and the General raised his hands again to restore calm, but this time his action had no effect. As the crowd continued to shout angrily, he turned to the soldiers nearest to him and nodded. They immediately raised their weapons and fired short bursts of gun fire into the air. The sound was deafening and quickly subdued the roar from the small crowd. When the echoes of the gun fire had receded, a deathly silence replaced the sound.

"People!" General Peterson yelled into the loudspeaker. "As of now, this town is under the complete control of the South African National Defense Force! The police, the medical staff, even your own mayor, will report directly to me. It is also unfortunate that order cannot be maintained with simple instructions, so you leave me no choice! My men will be searching every square inch of this place, and will be removing any firearms or weapons, legally owned or not. If you have any, I would suggest you hand them in voluntarily and immediately. If you are found with a weapon in your possession by the time they reach your residence, you will be arrested and detained under military law. You have until sunrise to hand in your weapons. Furthermore, there is another ring of soldiers in a five kilometer radius outside of this town, surrounding the entire area - for your own protection, ladies and gentlemen! Unfortunately if you choose to view it otherwise and try to leave, or if you make any attack on the soldiers who are here to protect you, you will be treated as hostile and shot on sight!"

There was a murmur of noise again from the crowd, and the General raised his hand, this time returning silence immediately.

"Furthermore... you will notice that your mobile devices - cell phones, iPads, tablets, computers, laptops - in fact, anything with a wireless connection to the outside world - no longer works. There is no satellite signal either, so your televisions or radios will also not work. Don't be alarmed, this is temporary and is normal procedure for a situation like this. Standard telephone lines have been disconnected as well. This is a complete communication blackout, folks!"

"What does he mean?" Amanda whispered to Drake from their hiding place.

Drake clenched his fist and bumped it lightly against the wall at his side. "It means that, as of now, and according to the rest of the world, the town of Hogsback no longer exists!"

### Chapter 44

Drake and Amanda returned to his hotel room a short while later. General Peterson had already dispatched his men to start searching the town, room for room, collecting any weapons, cameras and other equipment which they had classified as illegal. He had also doubled the soldiers at both barricades at the ends of town, and had dispatched men randomly throughout the village and nearby forests as lookouts and guards. With the main road now completely secured, and the mountains around them completing the task of trapping the residents of Hogsback in a seemingly inescapable fortress, they were indeed under the General's complete control, whether they liked it or not! The bodies of the victims of Friday's bus crash had all been removed from the front lawn of the library, and had been taken to one of the large white isolation tents that had been set up by the NICD and their friends from the Department of Health. Drake had to assume that they were planning in-depth autopsies on the corpses, in an effort to determine the cause or origin of the mysterious "stalk" that protruded from some of the deceased's heads, and were probably hoping to discover the reason for the vicious attacks that had taken place over the past few days.

The whole setup stank of international interference! Drake had seen a similar scene before, back in the Congo, but he had been on the opposite side of the fence then! This whole operation had been well executed, with precision. It was no co-incidence that all these government departments were here right now. The National Defense Force, NICD, WHO and Department of Health \- he wouldn't be surprised if the CDC rocked up from the United States soon! The news of the strange biological growths on the bodies had spread like wildfire, channeled neatly by those in power to avoid international media attention. The journalists that were in Hogsback were all South African locals, here due to tip-offs or inside information, but they were as useful right now as the cell phones and tablets they carried! Their digital cameras would be able to record, but the recordings themselves could not be transferred to their respective news agencies. Wireless connectivity was a wonderful concept on any day, but it was also a huge weakness when it came to who was controlling it! And right now, that appeared to be the worst possible people of all - the government!

The first thing Drake picked up when they entered the hotel room was his cell phone. He immediately tried dialing out, but the General had been true to his word, and all he got was the error tone indicating no signal. He whipped out his iPad and found the same result. Internet, emails, Facebook and Twitter - all down! Whatever device they were using to jam the wireless signals, it was doing a grand job! They now found themselves unwilling time travelers, sent back in time by ten to fifteen years - the modern day technologies as useless as if they had never existed in the first place!

"My cell is also not working." Amanda sighed, holding her cell phone up towards the ceiling to see if it made any difference.

"It's useless." Drake muttered. "Don't even waste your time."

"What do we do now?" Amanda moaned. "With the army surrounding the town, how are we going to get into those forests and find Jimmy before they do?"

"We have to use the one thing we have in our favor." Drake said.

"And what's that?"

"The element of surprise!"

"I don't understand." Amanda frowned.

"Right now, almost every soldier is busy searching the houses in town for weapons. Those that are still at the barricades will be watching the roads in and out of town. We're not planning on using any roads."

"You mean, through the forest?"

"Yes. If we leave now, we still have the cover of darkness on our side."

"What about the outer ring of soldiers that the General was talking about? If we run into them we'll be shot!"

"I don't think we will." Drake replied. "Even if there is an outer ring, they are going to be spaced very far apart. A five kilometer radius will give a circumference of around forty kilometers. They'd need a total of four thousand troops at ten meter intervals to completely close up the area - and don't forget we're talking about mountains and rivers and dense forests. No, more than likely they have strategic lookout points - guys with long range telescopes and sniper rifles perhaps. If we stay under the trees, we'll be fine."

"That sounds like a lot of if's and maybe's." Amanda said. "It seems risky."

"And if we want to find Jimmy before Peterson does, we're going to have to take that risk!"

Amanda sat down on the edge of the bed. "I can't believe this is happening! How did things go from an innocent trip on a school camp to... this?" She gestured out towards the street, where the sound of military vehicles drifted back towards them through the closed door of the hotel room. "And how did my son suddenly become the center of attention?"

"The how's are not as important as what we are going to do about it." Drake replied. "The sun comes up in two hours. If we leave now we can still make it to the forests on the eastern side of town without being seen. From there we'll trek northwards up to the old Cathcart road, and then we'll try and find the point that Cheese spoke about yesterday."

"Fine." Amanda said. "I'll take my chances of getting shot by Peterson's men if it means we get to find Jimmy."

Drake smiled broadly. "That's the spirit! Nothing was ever achieved by standing still, right?"

They got dressed as quickly as they could, in warm tracksuits, t-shirts and sneakers. Drake packed a small back pack with six bottles of water and a few chocolate bars from the mini-bar. They met outside Amanda's room.

"Ready?"

She nodded, and then followed him as he led the way quietly across the small courtyard, along the rear of the hotel towards the spot where they had been standing earlier, where he paused to observe the road below cautiously.

"If we can get down to those vehicles" he said, pointing towards where the three cars had parked earlier before the soldiers had slammed them with gunfire, "We just have a short run across the street and over that fence."

They made their way down the short embankment to the low wooden fence that surrounded the grounds of the Arminel. They hopped over quickly, thankful for the almost complete darkness off the side of the road, due to a cloud-filled night sky. The soldiers at each end of the road had erected bright lighting around their barricades, and this had made the road itself more visible. Their dash from the cars to the fence on the other side of the street would leave them exposed!

Drake paused at the rear bumper of the old Land Rover and peered hesitantly around it at the nearest barricade, less than twenty five meters away. He counted five soldiers standing guard there; two were facing away from them. The three that were watching Main Road were doing so with nonchalance, talking and chatting to each other jovially. As he looked in the opposite direction, Drake could see that the other barricade was a good two hundred meters away, just a distant glow of light. The chances of them being seen from that side were minimal. He straightened out, looking through the smashed rear window of the Land Rover at the nearest barricade. The interior of the Land Rover was filled with blood, and for a moment flashes of the three young children who had been trapped in the car during the gun fight interrupted his thoughts. He was thankful the military had removed the bodies, as he wasn't sure he could handle seeing them right now!

"Are you ready?" he whispered to Amanda, who nodded in reply.

One of the three guards who were facing them decided it would be a good time to light a cigarette, and this provided Drake and Amanda with the opportunity they were waiting for. Just as two of the guards hunched over the tiny flame of the lighter in one of their hands, the other guard turned his head for a moment towards the parking lot of the Arminel. Drake grabbed Amanda's hand and they sped across the open piece of road towards the chest high fence on the other side. Although they were wearing rubber-soled sneakers, every step sounded enormously loud to them, and Amanda couldn't help but wonder when the shooting would begin! The thought of dying out here, at the side of the road in the middle of the night, seemed as if it was becoming more and more of a possibility!

There were no gunshots though, and they soon found themselves up against the wooden fence. Drake quickly hoisted Amanda up and over, before clambering up himself and landing neatly next to where she was crouched on the other side. For several seconds they just sat there, backs against the fence, puffing from the exertion, hearts racing with adrenaline. After almost a minute had passed and nobody had shouted out in the street behind the fence, Drake took Amanda's hand again and they ran, half-crouched, down the other side of the hill, towards the nearby darkness and safety of the rows and rows of tall and majestic pine trees which lined the edge of the Amatola Forests. Once they had slipped in beneath the tall canopy of leaves and shuffled hastily through the undergrowth for a few minutes, Drake had them pause at a fallen tree trunk.

"We need to go east for at least a kilometer before we head to the north again. We're still too close to the road."

Amanda nodded breathlessly. "Okay."

They took each other's hands and were about to start their run-walk through the trees again, when the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked halted them dead in their tracks.

"And where exactly do you think you're going?" a menacing voice chuckled in the darkness behind them.

### Chapter 45

Amanda felt her heart skip a beat at the sound of the gun, and for a moment she was almost overwhelmed with fear and the realization that they had been caught trying to escape the town. She and Drake turned slowly to face their captor, certain that their punishment would be death - or worse! When she saw the face of the man holding the pistol, she frowned, confused. It was strangely familiar, yet she couldn't place it immediately. He was an African man, dressed in a pair of jeans and a black corduroy jacket. When he saw their confused expressions he chuckled, smiling broadly.

"I see you had the same idea!" he said.

"I know you." Drake frowned. "You're the parent of one of the kids from the bus, aren't you? Mr. Nkenke, right?"

"Bonumzi" The man replied. "Call me Bonumzi."

"Phew." Amanda let out a gasp of relief. "I thought we were dead!"

"Relax." Bonumzi Nkenke replied, lowering the gun and sticking it into the waistband of his jeans. "I'm also just trying to get out of this place!"

"Where the hell did you get a gun?" Drake asked.

"It's mine. I have a licence for it."

"They'll kill you if they catch you with it!" Amanda said.

"I'm more likely to die without it, it would seem. Do you guys have a plan? How do we get out of this jungle and past the soldiers?"

"We're not looking to get out." Drake replied. "We're going further in."

Bonumzi frowned. "In? I don't understand?"

"We're trying to find my son." Amanda said. "He's still alive somewhere in this jungle, and we need to find him before the General does."

"Your son? Was he also on the school bus?"

"Yes."

Bonumzi closed his eyes and leaned back against a nearby tree. There was just enough light for Amanda to see the wet sparkle of tears in his eyes.

"Then I must help you." He sighed. "I must help you find your son!"

"No." Amanda replied. "Please, Mr. Nkenke. That won't be necessary. You have been through enough already... with the death of your own son and everything."

"Zukisa is dead." Bonumzi replied, and there was a resigned sadness to his voice. "That cannot be changed. Your son can still be saved!"

"To be honest, we're really just wandering aimlessly through this place, hoping by some miracle we come across him. There is no plan, and no guarantee that we will find him." Drake said, giving Amanda a comforting look as he did so. "I'm not sure you'll be much good to us."

"That may be true." Bonumzi said. "I don't know anything about these mountains, and I struggle to find my way through a shopping center without getting lost! But at least I have this." He patted the butt of the pistol briefly, raising his eyebrows questioningly.

Drake glanced briefly at Amanda, who nodded. They had no idea what to expect out here, had no idea what or who they might run into. Having the support of an armed man might just make all the difference!

"Okay." Drake said eventually. "We'd be glad to have you along, but on one condition!"

"Name it."

"The gun is the last resort. We're not planning on killing anyone! We're not monsters."

"You mean like the General and his army?" Bonumzi asked, spitting the words out as if they were burning the top of his mouth. "They don't seem to share the same sentiment."

"This is exactly why we can't sink to their level!" Drake replied. "Two wrongs won't make a right."

"Yeah, yeah. Turn the other cheek and all that crap. I've heard it before." The distraught father sighed deeply. "Okay fine. The gun is for self-defense only. Can we go now?"

Amanda patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Bonumzi."

He smiled briefly, a weak attempt at hiding the depth of the pain he felt over the loss of his son. "What's his name? Your son?"

"Jimmy. James." Amanda said.

"Well then let's go find Jimmy James."

She was about to correct him, but then decided it would be pointless. The combination of names sounded quite cool anyway. Jimmy James - it had a movie star quality to it, reminding her of the heroes of the Wild West. She had to suppress a smile as they turned to follow Drake further into the forest, and it felt uncomfortable on her face in light of the circumstances.

They continued east, keeping the distant lights of the small town at their back, making slow progress through the forest as the undergrowth got thicker. The darkness wasn't helping much either, but at least it was keeping them out of sight of any possible lookouts. They spoke about their families, and Amanda was surprised to find out that Bonumzi had seven children. He seemed fairly young still, in his early thirties. The insurance salesman from East London proudly described each of his offspring, from the eldest, Miriam, who was completing her Matric at a well-known high school in East London, to Birthwell, the youngest of his children, a mere six months old! Zukisa, the boy who had died over the weekend, was Bonumzi's third youngest child, and the only child from his second wife. He had come to identify the body, after he had been phoned by the local police, and had left his younger children with his new wife at home. He had hoped to be able to collect his son's body and take it home for the funeral it deserved, but the scientists and doctors had taken it to the white tents, and now the town had been closed off. In the meantime he had a family at home, waiting for his return as the sole breadwinner. In his profession, if he wasn't working, he wasn't getting paid!

Amanda tried to fill him in as best as she could about what she and Drake had found in the forest the day before. She purposely skipped over the parts where they had found the children, the ripped throats and the strange growths from the top of their heads - she felt it was information that would not add any benefit for the distraught father - and focused instead on what their guide, Cheese, had told them. They discussed theories about what the General's plans were going to be, about how long the quarantine might be in effect, but ultimately they all agreed that they would only be playing a guessing game, and instead moved on to other topics. Having someone new to chat to made the time seem to fly by, and before long she noticed that the ground ahead of them was becoming more and more visible as the sun started rising over the nearby Amatola Mountains. This increase in visibility sped up their pace dramatically, and before long they had reached a point where Drake decided they should change direction and head for the road which led to Cathcart, somewhere north through the forest.

They paused for a drink of water, which Drake happily removed from his backpack, handing them each a 500ml bottle. They took a seat beneath a large tree with gnarled branches, wrapped in the vines that laced most of the jungle floor like thick green spider webs, sipping the still cold liquid and sucking quietly on chocolate bars.

"What about you?" Bonumzi asked Amanda, realizing he had been sharing his whole life story with them for the past two hours, and had not given them a chance to tell theirs.

"Not much to tell on my side." Amanda blushed. "I'm just a single mother, living for her son."

"And where do you work?"

Amanda laughed. "I'm probably already fired! It's my second day not at work, and I haven't even thought of phoning my boss yet, and now it's too late with the cell phones not working! I work at a puzzle and games store, as the assistant manager. Perhaps you know it? Puzzle Palace?"

"Ah!" Bonumzi cried. "I love that store! I get all of my oldest girl's school text books from there! I thought you looked familiar! Wow, it's a small world!"

"It really is." Amanda laughed. "So small, in fact, that I was lucky enough to find Drake in it."

Drake smiled at the warm compliment, winking at her. "I think we were all lucky."

Bonumzi nodded earnestly. "You're so right, my friend! They say the Lord works in mysterious ways, and He has brought us here today, as a team."

"Well, I don't know much about the good Father's role in all of this." Drake said, closing the cap on his water bottle, "But here we are regardless. We should get moving. We're going to be easier to spot in the daylight, and we still have a ways to go."

They forced themselves back to their feet and then followed Drake as he picked out a snaking path northwards. The sun was barely up but already the humidity below the canopy of trees was increasing. Within thirty minutes they were all sweating and swatting pesky mosquitoes away. Their direction was leading them up hill, with the enormous bulk of the sun-drenched mountains periodically visible through the tree tops ahead of them as they walked. They soon found themselves doing more climbing than walking, as they traversed steep rises in the terrain, or pulled themselves up over fallen boulders and the occasional tree trunk. After less than an hour they were pretty close to exhaustion and had to rest again. Amanda stared up at the seemingly endless landscape ahead of them, a mass of intertwined trees and leaves and bushes. She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up the pace, and she was certain that their water would not be enough to last the day! After all they had only planned for two, and they now had company.

Her thoughts were distracted though, by a strange droning sound, which seemed to be getting nearer and louder.

"Sssh!" Drake hissed, indicating for them to get down and hide from view.

The sound approached from the left, only a few short meters further up from where they were sitting, passing above them and heading off to the right. The unmistakable sound of car tyres on a gravel road!

### Chapter 46

When the passing vehicle had completely disappeared, returning the normal and natural sounds of wildlife to the forest again, Drake clambered up the steep incline where they had been crouching, with Amanda and Bonumzi shortly on his heels. They reached the narrow road above almost unexpectedly, and standing there in the middle of it, without being surrounded by trees and rocks and vines, felt both exhilarating and frightening. It was great to be able to spread their arms without touching another obstacle, but at the same time being exposed like that meant the possibility of being spotted by the soldiers that had been set up as sentries around Hogsback, and that left an uncomfortable feeling in the back of their minds.

"We have to hurry." Drake said urgently. "We follow the road to the east until we spot the cliff we were at yesterday, and then we head back through the forest towards it. Cheese said it would be an easier hike than coming from the opposite side."

They started walking immediately, a brisk pace compared to their trek prior to discovering the road. Drake stayed in front, keeping a watchful eye on the road ahead, and the peaks above, for any signs of a soldier standing guard. Amanda and Bonumzi followed shortly behind, scanning the canopy of trees below them to their right, trying to spot the familiar protrusion of rocks that they had come across the day before, the landmark that would guide them back towards where they had lost Jimmy's trail. The sun had now almost reached mid day, and it had bathed the scenery around them in a golden glow, accentuated by the fresh greenery of the treetops in the valley below. It was a beautiful day, clear blue skies and not a breath of wind. If it hadn't been for the reason they were there in the first place, this may have been just three friends on a peaceful hike, but Amanda couldn't shake the image of a cold and shivering twelve-year-old boy, alone and lost in the deadly jungle below them somewhere.

They had walked for another thirty minutes when they first heard the thumping noise. It was a familiar and instantly recognizable sound - a helicopter! Amanda's first reaction was to shield her eyes from the sun and try and spot the metallic bird in the clear skies, but Drake quickly ushered her and Bonumzi to the cover of a nearby tree, hiding them from view. She could just make out the chopper as it roared overhead, flying low. It was painted a dark green, the color of the South African Air Force, and it was close enough for her to spot the armed soldier in the doorway, automatic rifle at the ready as he scanned the forests for any sign of life. It disappeared over the mountain to the left of the road.

"Lookouts?" she asked Drake, who shrugged in reply.

"Or it's a search party."

"For Jimmy?" Amanda asked, her body going ice cold.

"Or us." Drake replied. "We need to get back into the jungle. How much further do you think?"

"Well." Bonumzi said, pointing through the trees behind them. "If the rock formation you're looking for is that one over there, then I think we're already here."

They turned to see what he was pointing at, and Amanda almost shouted with joy at the familiar sight of the strip of rocks that pierced the jungle like a knife, just barely visible along the top of the canopy of trees.

"That's it, isn't it?" she asked excitedly.

"It must be." Drake replied. "I don't see anything else similar, so it must be!"

"How far away do you think that is?" Bonumzi asked.

"I'm guessing an hour, maybe two?" Drake said, checking his wristwatch. It was way past midday, heading for one pm. "If the General sent his search party for Jimmy out this morning, via the bus wreck, then they have probably reached the other side of those rocks by now. We should get moving!"

Amanda did not need any more inspiration than the mention of her son and the General's names in the same sentence, and she immediately set off down the road, searching for an accessible path down into the jungle. Drake and Bonumzi hurried after her, a sense of urgency now apparent in all of them. They found an entry point a few minutes later. It was on a winding bend in the road, a point where an overhanging tree provided its exposed roots as support down the steep embankment. They made their way cautiously down, using the roots as natural ropes and steps to ease themselves down to a point where they could stand freely on semi-level ground, once again shielded from both the sun and the prying eyes in the sky.

Cheese had told them it would be faster travelling to the rock formation from this side, than climbing over it from the other side, and as they made their way through the dense undergrowth, completely untouched by man in what seemed an eternity, they were beginning to wonder if the old man hadn't been senile! The vines, roots and leaf-covered floor were making progress difficult. Added to this, the fact that the ground undulated dramatically, from steep descents to exhausting climbs again was leaving them drained after only an hour into their journey! The canopy of leaves above their heads was so dense that it let hardly any sunlight in, and there was an almost tangible air of humidity which seemed to grab at them as if it was trying to drag them down at every step. They had to stop several times to drink water, and after another hour and a half Drake was pulling out the last two bottles of water, which by now were lukewarm and hardly appetizing.

"Drink just enough to wet your throats." He said hoarsely, handing one of the bottles to Amanda and the other to Bonumzi. "We're going to need it later."

"How on earth are we going to find anything in this jungle?" Amanda asked, panting for breath. "Let alone a twelve year old!"

"I'm more concerned with getting back again." Drake replied, looking in the general direction from which they had come. "There are no markers under these trees - I can't even keep track of the mountain peaks."

"Are we lost?" Amanda asked fearfully.

"Not yet." Drake replied. "But after another hour or two, I'm not so sure we won't be! Plus, it's going to get dark soon."

"What are you suggesting?"

Drake wiped the sweat from his brow and surveyed the surrounding area. There was not much more to see other than the myriad of entwined trees, plants and boulders, but he spotted a small open area alongside a nearby boulder, the size of a double story house!

"I think we should prepare for the night."

"What?" Bonumzi asked in disbelief. "You mean sleep here?" He looked around at the trees above them, muttering something under his breath in his home language of Xhosa.

"We'll never make it back to the road before nightfall now anyway." Drake said. "And then we still have to try and get back into town - which I don't see happening! I'm sure the General has noticed that we are missing by now - especially you, Amanda, seeing as he had such an invested interest in Jimmy."

"We're not going back!" Amanda said, frowning at Bonumzi. "I'm not starting all over again tomorrow, even if we do make it back to town. We've come this far. Jimmy has to be here somewhere! I can feel it! We sleep here, as Drake suggested, and we continue in the morning."

"Don't get me wrong!" Bonumzi replied, holding his hands up in defense. "I'm not saying I don't think it's a good idea, I'm just saying the thought of spending the night here \- in the darkness - surrounded by wild animals - well that just freaks me out!"

Drake chuckled. "What are you worried about? You're the one with the gun, right?"

Bonumzi raised his eyebrow. "Do you think we might have to use it?"

"Relax." Drake smiled, and then laughing added. "We'll light a fire, which should keep the creatures away."

Bonumzi wasn't amused, and he kept checking over his shoulder as they followed Drake to the area he had spotted earlier, helping him as he cleared away a few dead branches and leaves. They managed to open up a small clearing of about six by six foot, the face of the large boulder on the one end of it, which would provide some protection from any possible wind later. It was four o'clock by the time they had finished, and the sun had already started dipping behind the mountain peaks to the west, casting the already gloomy forest into an even darker hue. With the sun disappearing, the humidity also started easing up slightly, and this was a temporary relief for the three weary souls. They spent the next half an hour collecting firewood and stacking it against the natural wall created by the boulder.

Drake tossed the last armful of wood onto the growing pile and then turned to Amanda.

"We're going to need water by tomorrow. I'm going to take a short trek over into that valley south from here. With any luck there'll be a stream."

"I'll come with." Amanda replied, preparing to collect the backpack with the empty water bottles they had collected.

"No." Drake shook his head. "You stay here, get a fire going. It's going to be dark soon and I might need a reference to find my way back."

"Well Bonumzi can do that." Amanda protested, but Drake halted her.

"Stay here." He said firmly. "It's twice as dangerous climbing through these valleys and hills in the dark!"

Amanda sighed and turned away. "Okay. But get your ass back here. And bring take out!"

Drake chuckled. "KFC or Macdonald's?"

"KFC!" Bonumzi and Amanda replied simultaneously, looking at each other and bursting out in laughter.

"Got it." Drake said, picking up the back pack and heading off through the trees.

Amanda watched him go, until she could no longer see or hear him. She turned back to where she was stacking the wood for the fire, focused intently on the mundane task, but her mind was racing, trying to decipher why her heart was suddenly furiously missing the company of a man she hardly knew!

### Chapter 47

Drake returned more than an hour later, just as darkness was well and truly creeping up on them. Amanda had managed to get the fire burning fiercely, thanks mostly to the book of matches that Bonumzi had in his pocket, alongside his favorite smoking pipe and a small bag of Rum and Maple tobacco. He had lit up just a few minutes before Drake returned and the sweet smell of the tobacco had filled the small campsite with a pleasant aroma. Drake was sweating, but he smiled as he sat down with his back to the face of the boulder, placing the small backpack between his legs. He pulled out the six bottles of water, now filled to the brim, and tossed one to each of them.

"Hogsback's finest natural spring water." He chuckled, as he watched them drink.

"Oh my God, it's delicious!" Amanda sighed, savoring the sensation of ice-cold liquid against her hot and dry throat.

"And there's plenty more where that came from. Drink your fill, we can refill again when we start hiking towards the south again tomorrow."

Amanda stood up from where she had been feeding the fire with wood and sat down next to Drake.

"Did you see anything? You know, any signs of anyone else."

Drake shook his head sadly, patting her leg. "No. But it was getting pretty dark."

"Okay."

They sat in silence for a while, before Drake lifted his arm and placed it around Amanda's shoulders. He felt as if he needed to say something, but also knew that there were not going to be any words that would make either of them feel any better right now. Instead he just held her, pleasantly warmed by the sensation of her head resting against his shoulder and the occasional feather touch of her breathing on his neck. He had been a bachelor all his life, by choice, and even though he had never been short of female companionship when required, he had never made the conscious choice of needing someone in any way more than casually. Yet here was this woman - a woman who had seemed weak and frightened when he had first met her, for good reason, but who now was so much stronger and tougher than he would have thought possible. Despite the fact that her son had been missing in these forests for four days now, and despite that fact that an entire military unit was searching for him, Amanda had held it all together surprisingly well! Drake was truly impressed.

The jungle at night seemed like a different place entirely. The fact that everything was blanketed in complete darkness seemed to accentuate the sounds of the forest. It was as if their ears had become more attuned to every noise with the loss of vision, the way a blind person would be able to hear things that others could not. The drone of insects filled the air around them with a constant hum, broken occasionally by the call of a bird, the cry of a monkey or the growl of a wildcat in the distance. The fire crackled and popped occasionally, casting a warm orange glow on nearby trees and shrubbery, adding a homely feel to the very bare camp site, while simultaneously giving off a warmth that took the edge off the crisp evening breeze that rustled through the canopy of leaves above them.

Amanda had enjoyed the sensation of being in Drake's arms, although it seemed both alien and at the same time left the slightest tinge of guilt in the pit of her stomach. She had not let another man hold her in more than six years, not counting her own father, of course. Ever since the violent end to her relationship with Geoff, she had promised herself that she would never allow Jimmy to experience what he had already gone through again. It was the reminder of this promise that eventually had her pulling away from Drake with the premise of tossing a piece of wood onto the fire, settling down a few feet away from him thereafter. She could tell that Drake had sensed the shift in her mood by the way he began doodling on the ground with a small stick, avoiding eye contact.

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" she asked, breaking an uncomfortable silence which had settled between the three of them.

"We keep heading south." Drake replied. "We should reach the cliff by noon tomorrow. Maybe we'll get lucky and find some trace of where the boys re-entered the forest."

"And if we don't?" Bonumzi Nkenke asked, shrugging in reply to the disapproving stare he received from Drake.

"We will."

"Bonumzi's right." Amanda sighed, smiling softly at Drake. "If we don't, we need to know what we're going to do next."

Drake tossed away the twig he had been using to draw random figures in the soft ground between his feet, dusting his hands off.

"If we don't find any trace of Jimmy or the other boy, we may have to face the reality that it's going to take more than three inexperienced city slickers to find a missing child in a densely forested area that covers three thousand square kilometers. That's the sad truth."

The numbers made Amanda gasp. Taking them into account had put the absurdity of their mission in a new light. Drake was right, how likely was it going to be that they would ever find her son? General Peterson had thirty to forty experienced men at his disposal, including high tech equipment and helicopters, and even for them it was going to be a needle in a haystack situation! What could the three of them achieve on their own? A self-employed business trader who was in line for his family's millions, an abused divorcee who was trying to rebuild her shattered life, and an insurance salesman who had just lost his own child to a violent death. It seemed utterly ridiculous, at best!

"I'm sorry." Drake sighed. "I'm not trying to make you despondent. I don't know what I was thinking."

"It's alright." Amanda said. "You're right. It's a mammoth task, and we have to be realistic about it."

"So assuming we don't find the boys tomorrow, what are we going to do? We can't go back to Hogsback!" Bonumzi exclaimed.

"You're right." Drake said. "We'll be walking into a death trap. These military guys don't take kindly to people who break their barriers - especially in these quarantine situations."

"So we head towards Cathcart." Amanda said. "Stick to the forest for a few more kilometers due east and join up with the road at a point beyond the roadblocks. From there we can hike back to East London, get the police involved and even search and rescue, the newspapers!"

"It's a good plan." Drake smiled. "The vastness of the Amatola forests plays in our favor as well, because we are also just needles in a haystack to the General's men."

"Okay." Bonumzi nodded. "I can go with that. But first prize is still going to be finding your son."

Amanda smiled at their new friend, warmed by the depth of his kindness. "Thank you. Thank you both, so much! You're risking so much to help me, I could never repay you!"

"There's no need..." Drake started replying, but stopped talking mid-sentence, cocking his head to the side as if listening to something.

"What is it?" Amanda asked, lowering her voice in response to Drake's strange reaction.

"I heard something." Drake whispered, holding his hand up.

"An animal?" Bonumzi asked, immediately shifting around to place his back against the boulder where Amanda and Drake were sitting, his hand resting on the butt of the pistol that protruded out the top of his pants.

"I'm not sure."

They stopped talking, focusing intently on the night sounds around them, trying to decipher and filter them into categories in an effort to determine what Drake had heard. Amanda heard it a few moments later, immediately sending her heart racing in her chest louder than a bongo drum. It was a low growl, throaty and deep, the kind a large predator would give when stalking his prey.

"Shit! What was that?"

"Sssh." Drake hissed. "Don't make any sudden movements or noises!"

"Was that a fucking lion?" Bonumzi asked, his voice taught and high pitched.

"It's too far south for free roaming lions." Drake replied. "It's probably just a stray mountain cat. The fire should keep him back."

"Should?"

Drake shrugged. "I'm not a wildlife expert - I'm just optimistic."

There was the cracking sound of a branch breaking which made them all jump from fright simultaneously, and then the low growl returned.

"I fucking hate the jungle." Bonumzi moaned softly.

The sudden sound of branches and leaves being brushed roughly aside was accompanied by the furious pounding sound of a running beast getting nearer. Drake leaned forward and snatched the gun from Bonumzi's waist band, simultaneously cocking it and waving it from side to side in front of them, unsure as to where exactly the beast would appear in the low light of the camp fire. The rushing sounds were getting louder and closer, yet it was still impossible to see beyond the complete darkness at the edge of the fire light. Amanda had cowered in behind Drake, with Bonumzi inching closer towards them. Her heart was racing in her ears and fear had wrapped itself around her spine.

The beast appeared suddenly in the orange glow to the right and ahead of them, amidst a flurry of leaves and dust, panting and sweating and teeth bared. Drake swung the pistol around towards it, the adrenaline kicking in as his finger pressed gently on the trigger, but then he froze as he stared the predator down, a medley of confusion and disbelief as his mind tried to decipher the image it was getting from his eyes.

The boy was young - barely a teenager. He was wearing a black t-shirt, torn and ripped and smeared with dirt, almost completely hiding the faded yellow outlines of the smiley face printed on it. His overweight legs and arms were bleeding from multiple scratches and gashes; the blood had caked his skin and left ugly smears. Drake stared down the sights of the pistol at the child, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Amanda reached over from behind him, placing her hand on his, and pushing it and the gun downwards gently, shaking her head and pleading silently. Drake felt a sense of relief, as shooting a child was the last thing he ever wanted to do!

The boy had paused at the edge of the camp, his facial features distorted with rage in the flickering light, still growling in an almost unnatural way. His eyes danced briefly between the three adults as they cowered against the boulder on the opposite end of the fire, before he bared yellowed teeth and charged furiously towards them! Drake instinctively started raising the gun, but Amanda resisted against his hand. The boy had run through the small fire, apparently unconcerned with the heat or flames, and was almost upon them, when there was the sound of rushing air and then the squelch of flesh being pierced by a sharp object, before he collapsed face down at their feet in a flurry of dust, motionless now in a slowly forming pool of blood.

Amanda stared in confusion at the long wooden shaft that protruded from the back of the young boy's head, trying to understand what had just happened. A movement in the darkness of the undergrowth at the edge of the camp caught her eye, and she focused instead on the shadowy figure as it came into the light. For a moment she frowned, trying to understand what she was seeing, the familiarity of the dirty facial features and matted hair, the scraggly and tiny body wrapped in filthy clothes. The child lowered his bow, staring directly at her, before opening his mouth to speak, and the word cut through her heart like the sharpest cleaver in a butcher shop.

"Mommy."

### Chapter 48

Drake had started raising the pistol again, this time unhindered by the weight of Amanda's hands on his own, but Amanda leapt forward, placing herself between the gun and the little boy in the forest.

"No." she whispered urgently, staring fiercely into Drake's eyes, which were clouded with a combination of confusion and fear. "It's okay. It's Jimmy!"

"Jimmy James!" Bonumzi exclaimed excitedly from the side.

Drake frowned, blinking rapidly. A bead of sweat had formed on his temples, drawing a wet path down the side of his face. Amanda's words finally sank in, and he gasped suddenly, lowering the gun with shaking hands.

"Jimmy?" he asked.

Amanda nodded furiously, smiling broadly. She turned on her haunches to face the young boy. She felt like crying out loud at the sight of him, so matted and grimy, cut and bruised and filthy, but instead an overpowering sense of joy filled her heart. She fought back tears as she opened her arms towards him.

"I'm here." She smiled, gesturing for him to approach.

She could see his shoulders slump as his arms dropped to his side and his small hand dropped the home-made bow, his tiny Adam's apple moved rapidly up and down as he swallowed repeatedly. He took a weak step forward, and then another, before he started running the short distance across the camp site and slammed into her body, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around her and spilling her backwards onto her behind. The tears flowed freely now, a cascade of pent up emotion, fear and anxiety suddenly released. Amanda wailed loudly too, unashamed of her utter exhilaration in having her son back in her arms again. For what seemed like an eternity they held each other as she gently rocked back and forth with him. She was content to have the world end right now, at this very moment, as it would mean never having to let him go again!

"Jesus Christ." Drake sighed behind them. "I almost killed him!"

Amanda kissed her son furiously all over his face, before releasing him slightly, just enough to maneuver herself around to face the two men. She gave Drake a look filled with gratitude.

"You brought us here." Amanda said. "You risked everything to help me find him. You saved him. You both did!" she added, looking across at Bonumzi.

"Still!" Drake shook his head. "I almost shot..."

"You saved him!" Amanda said firmly. "You saved my son!"

"Or your son saved us." Bonumzi replied, indicating the body of the young boy on the ground behind Amanda.

She looked down at the motionless figure, pulling Jimmy away from her and then staring into his eyes questioningly.

"Who was he?" she asked gently. "Why did he want to hurt us?"

Jimmy looked away sadly before replying "Marko. He was my friend."

A knot had formed in Amanda's throat, and she swallowed it down furiously. "He was your friend? Was he on the bus when it... crashed?"

Jimmy nodded. "He saved me too. But then he got sick."

"Sick?" Amanda asked, confused.

"They all did. Colin, Zookie, Marko. It was the dust."

"Dust?"

"The dust from the stalks. The Stranger had it first."

"The stranger?" None of what Jimmy was saying seemed to be making any sense, and Amanda felt helpless as she listened to his rambling.

"He's still in shock." Drake said gently, moving closer to them and rubbing Amanda's back. "He needs to rest. I don't think he's slept in a while."

As if in reply to Drake's statement, Jimmy's head drooped on Amanda's shoulder, and his body relaxed against hers. She allowed Drake to help her up and they maneuvered Jimmy into a warm spot on the ground near the boulder, covering him with a hooded sweatshirt from Bonumzi's bag. There was a small canvas bag strapped around his chest, and she removed it carefully from under him, before taking up a seat next to his sleeping body, not wanting to be further away from him than was necessary. Drake added a few more logs to the fire while Bonumzi lit up his pipe again, offering it to Drake, who took a few hesitant puffs, coughing quietly. Drake handed Bonumzi's pistol back to him.

"Sorry for that." He shrugged.

The three of them sat in silence for a while, staring at the bodies of the two young boys, one sleeping and the other dead. It was a surreal scene, and even now, only a few short minutes later, it seemed like a fading dream - a distant memory - a fantastical moment in a science fiction movie, even.

"He said my son was sick too." Bonumzi said, breaking the silence. "He mentioned Zookie. What did he mean?"

"I'm not sure." Amanda replied. "But don't let yourself worry about that now."

"This other boy was like a wild animal." Bonumzi continued, gesturing towards where the dead Marko lay. "He was crazy even. He tried to hurt us - tried to hurt your boy, no doubt. What if Zukisa had been the same? What if my son tried to hurt the others, or even worse, was responsible for their deaths?"

"Hey." Drake said, tapping Bonumzi on the shoulder. "We don't know what happened to these kids, but whatever it was, they're just that - kids! What control would they have had over anything in these mountains? Don't beat yourself up or second guess, okay? Everything will be alright."

Bonumzi puffed hard on his pipe, billowing out sweet smelling smoke.

"What's that?" Drake asked, gesturing at the canvas bag that Amanda had in her lap.

She picked it up, turning it around in her hands. She found a metal clip on the one side of it and popped it open. With gentle fingers she pulled the camera out of the canvas casing, holding it up for the two men to see.

"Wow." Drake said. "That's a beauty. I haven't seen one of those in quite a while!"

"Let's look at the pictures." Bonumzi said excitedly, eager for the opportunity to do anything besides stare at the fire and the dark forest beyond it.

Amanda laughed. "You can't. It uses film, very old school. Any photo's will have to be developed in a dark room."

"Does it have a film cartridge in it?" Drake asked curiously.

Amanda studied the back of the camera and showed Drake where the picture counter indicated 22. "It does. And there are two shots left. Shall we?"

Bonumzi smiled broadly, and laughed. "Yes! I love photos!"

"Okay. Let's see if this thing still works! You two sit over there next to Jimmy. I need a picture of my two heroes with my boy!"

Drake and Bonumzi got into position alongside Jimmy's sleeping body, arms across each other's shoulders. Amanda had to dust the viewing lens off before putting her eye to it, as it was covered in fine dust particles, and had obviously not been cleaned in a while. She framed the two men and her son in the shot, held her hand steady and pressed the button, pleased to hear the electronic click and whirr which indicated the camera was still working.

"Now it's your turn." Drake smiled, coming over and taking the camera from her. "One shot left. It will only be fitting that it is of you and Jimmy."

Amanda took up a seat beside Jimmy, laying the side of her head across his, but in the opposite direction, so that her chin was at the top of his head.

"That's an amazing picture!" Drake said gently. "Keep still."

The familiar click and whirr, and then the camera whined as the film was rewound automatically. After a few seconds it stopped.

"Was this Jimmy's camera?" Drake asked as he handed it back to her.

Amanda shook her head. "No. I've never seen it before."

She placed it back in the canvas case, clipping it closed again, and then strapping it around her chest. She took up a seat near the fire, staring into it as if she had been hypnotized by the dancing flames. Drake sat down cross-legged on the ground next to her, cocking his head in her direction, until she was forced to look away from the fire and at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Amanda nodded. "I'm fine. Perfect, really. I can't believe we found him, I guess I'm still trying to process that."

"It's amazing, really." Drake replied. "I can't imagine what the past four days must have been like for him."

"Me neither. And it's not over yet. We still have to get back to the road. Head for Cathcart, you know?"

"We can reach the road by tomorrow afternoon, I'm sure of it. With any luck we'll be back in East London by tomorrow evening." Drake said reassuringly. "And then you and Jimmy can go back to normal lives again."

Amanda chuckled. "What is normal? Everything's changed, you know? I don't think either one of us will ever be the same again after this. And besides, you're in our lives now, too."

Drake puffed up with pride, placing his hand on Amanda's back.

"Really?" he beamed. "You mean you wouldn't mind the company of a slightly enigmatic, totally handsome eccentric ex-surfer?"

"Are you kidding?" Amanda smiled. "You're like part of the family now."

"That's a new experience for me, then." Drake sighed. "I'll do my best."

"Of course you will." Amanda replied. "As soon as we get home, the first thing I'm doing is cooking a Dutch style farmhouse meal for you and Bon-Bon!"

"And I'll bring the beer!" Bonumzi chuckled from behind them.

Amanda was about to reply when her eye caught a sudden movement to the left, at the side of the campsite, and as she turned to look she couldn't help but let out a tiny gasp of fear! Drake and Bonumzi jumped up simultaneously but froze in position as the cold metallic sound of rifles being cocked echoed simultaneously through the night around them and the group of six or seven armed and camouflaged soldiers stepped out of the jungle and into the light of the campfire!

### Chapter 49

Drake recognized the familiar burly shape of Sergeant Van Rooyen as he stepped forward through the semi-circle of soldiers that had formed around them. The shaven-headed Afrikaner was smiling broadly, despite the sweat that dripped down his forehead staining his collar and the back of his uniform. He paused with his legs spread and arms folded, surveying them with his dark beady eyes.

"Ah, the lost lambs." He chuckled. "We have been looking for you for a long time! And I see you have found the boy!" he said, gesturing at where Jimmy still lay sleeping.

Amanda stood up quickly, taking a step towards him.

"You leave my son alone!" she hissed.

"Relax, Miss Hoyer." The Sergeant chuckled. "We're here to help."

"Like hell you are!" Drake spat. "We don't need your kind of help, thank you."

"Mr. Winslow, isn't it?" Van Rooyen asked, moving closer to Drake. "When I need your opinion, I'll ask for it, okay? Until then, why don't you just shut the fuck up?"

"Who do you think you are?" Drake asked angrily, and he was about to continue speaking when the soldier nearest to them raised his rifle and pointed it directly at his head.

"Like I said - shut the fuck up." Van Rooyen smiled, turning his attention back on Amanda.

"As I was saying, Miss Hoyer, we're here to help. General Peterson has been very concerned about the well-being of you and your son, and he will be pleased to know that you are safe."

"Peterson?" Amanda laughed. "The only reason he is concerned about my son is that he needs an answer to what's been happening around here, and Jimmy is the only one who can tell him that."

Van Rooyen shrugged. "Perhaps, but I am not here to judge, only to follow orders."

"How the hell did you find us?" Drake asked, frowning. "This jungle is massive."

"It is a real miracle." Van Rooyen chuckled. "Of course, I never play poker without an Ace up my sleeve. Right, Mr. Nkenke?"

Drake and Amanda both turned to look at Bonumzi in surprise. He had been sheepishly standing with his back to the boulder, hands in his pockets. At the mention of his name he nodded and stepped forward towards Van Rooyen, who had his hand stretched out, palm upwards.

"Bon-Bon?" Amanda asked, confused.

Bonumzi stepped past her, avoiding eye contact, removed his hand from his pocket and placed a small black object in the Sergeant's upturned palm, a tiny red light on the little box blinking on and off repeatedly. He then stepped off to the side, alongside one of the soldiers.

"I don't understand." Amanda frowned.

"It's simple." Drake was shaking his head. "The guy was a mole. That's how they found us out here so easily!"

Bonumzi looked away, embarrassed, shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

"Is it true?" Amanda asked. "You were working for the General? And that little black thing, what was that? A tracker? What the fuck, Bonumzi?"

"I'm sorry, Amanda." Bonumzi said, raising his hands in despair. "I had no choice. I needed to get my son's body home as soon as possible for the funeral, it's a cultural tradition, and this was the only way! If I didn't do this they would have kept it for weeks or months even, chopping it up for their autopsies and examinations and stuff. The General promised to release it to me immediately if I helped him find your son. They knew you were planning to escape into the forest that night, and they had me wait there for you."

"Okay!" Drake hissed. "I should've guessed it was too much of a coincidence! And the gun? I suppose that wasn't yours either?"

"The gun was for security." Van Rooyen added. "Just in case one of you decided to leave before we managed to get here. Speaking of which..." he gestured at Bonumzi to hand it over.

The chubby man stepped forward, pulling the pistol out from his waistband, and holding it by the barrel as he offered it to the Sergeant.

"Thank you." Van Rooyen smiled, gripping the gun by the handle and lowering it towards the ground. Bonumzi turned and started walking back to where he had been standing, when from behind him Van Rooyen suddenly raised the pistol and fired it three times into his back, sending the man crashing face first into the ground, convulsing violently as blood spurted from his mouth.

Amanda screamed and tried run to where Bonumzi lay, but she was quickly grabbed and held back by one of the soldiers, while two more stepped menacingly in front of Drake. Van Rooyen slipped the gun into an empty shoulder holster and pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his shirt pocket, lighting one up.

"What the fuck!" Amanda screamed at him, spittle flying everywhere in her rage. "Why did you do that?"

"He served his purpose." Van Rooyen shrugged. "And it's a long trek back to Hogsback; I wasn't planning on dragging his fat ass all the way."

"Asshole!" Amanda cried, some of the fight now fading from her. "You just killed an innocent man! What about the law, your duty as a soldier?"

"Hey!" Van Rooyen yelled suddenly, taking three quick steps towards Amanda and pausing with his nose only inches from hers, glaring hard into her face. "Get it into your thick skull, you stupid woman! There are no laws that apply here, except the General's laws! This area is off the map, shut down, non-existent! It belongs to the Defense Force, and it will stay that way until we are told otherwise! Until such time, we are commissioned to use deadly force on those who break the barrier."

"He never broke it!" Drake said angrily. "You sent him out here, remember?"

"Well, that's my word against his." Van Rooyen grinned viciously. "And now I guess it's just my word, hey?"

"You motherfu-"

Van Rooyen held up his hand, silencing Drake. "Careful, Mr. Winslow! Let's not forget that you have also broken the barrier, and I have the right to shoot you down as well - and believe me, there is nothing I'd like to do more! However, General Peterson would like to see all three of you alive, for now, unfortunately." He stepped up to Drake and leaned in with his mouth against Drake's ear, adding softly, "But give me a goddamned reason to shoot you, and I will. That's a promise."

The Sergeant stank of sweat and the faintest trace of alcohol, and Drake turned his face away.

"Mommy?" The tiny voice came from behind them, and Amanda swung around hurriedly and scooped her son up into her arms from where he lay.

"It's okay Jimmy." She whispered into his ear. "It's going to be okay."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, baby."

"Ah, this must be the amazing James." Van Rooyen beamed, approaching Amanda, who turned her back towards him, putting herself between the man and her son.

"It's Jimmy." The boy replied, looking at Van Rooyen over Amanda's shoulder.

Van Rooyen frowned, smiling. "Excuse me?"

"It's Jimmy. Not James."

"Okay, forgive me!" Van Rooyen chuckled, as did some of the soldiers near him. "My bad! What do we have here?" He crouched down alongside the body of the young Marko, running his hand up along the shaft of the handmade arrow that had pierced the back of his skull. He looked around the campsite, spotting the bow that Jimmy had dropped, and then walked over and picked it up. He chuckled. "Well, Jimmy. It appears we have more in common than I thought!"

"My son is nothing like you!" Amanda hissed angrily.

Van Rooyen ignored her, raising his hand above his head and waving it around in a circle. "Okay, let's get this show on the road. Time is ticking."

They group of soldiers herded Drake, Amanda and Jimmy into a single file line between them, with Drake at the rear, an R4 military issued rifle poking occasionally into his back as a precaution.

"What about these two, sir?" one of the soldiers asked Van Rooyen, indicating the bodies of Bonumzi and Marko.

"Let them rot." Van Rooyen replied.

### Chapter 50

It was pitch black once they left the warmth of the dying camp fire and headed through the dense undergrowth. Each of the soldiers were equipped with an LED headlamp, which they had turned on, lighting the immediate area ahead, around and behind the convoy of people. It was still rough going, though, and Amanda marveled at the way the forest changed at night, it seemed so much creepier and colder. It was hard to imagine having to navigate through it without some sort of lighting, and the fact that Jimmy had been doing just that for the past few days still amazed her! He was being carried by Drake now, and had fallen asleep again in his arms, exhausted from his adventures, it seemed. Amanda stayed close to the two of them, reaching her hand out gingerly behind her every few minutes or so, to briefly touch Drake's hip or hand, a kind of reassurance that they were still safe and with her. The headlamps cast long moving shadows that crisscrossed their path as they followed Sergeant Van Rooyen towards where, Amanda guessed, the strip of rocks were that they had visited the previous day. The General's men had obviously found a way through or around it, and they were taking this same route back towards the forsaken town it seemed.

It had been almost an hour into their journey when, from nowhere, the shape leapt out of the jungle from the side, taking out the soldier who walked behind Drake. It was so sudden and unexpected that for a moment nobody reacted, but then the realization sank in and the small platoon of soldiers rushed to their fellow comrade's aid. Amanda turned just in time to see the young soldier's throat being ripped open by the figure that was on top of him. The attacker was wearing a navy blue uniform of some sort, and Amanda tried to recall where she had seen it before. It was only when the first soldier to reach the grappling pair of men slammed the butt of his rifle into the back of the attacker's head and he collapsed forward, rolling onto his back, that she instantly recognized the uniform. It was a police uniform, the familiar yellow badge of the South African Police Services now clearly displayed through the dirt that packed his clothes!

The soldier who had knocked the policeman out had now aimed his rifle at the unconscious man's head, but a sudden bark from Sergeant van Rooyen stopped him from pulling the trigger.

"Wait!"

"This fucker just bit Maritz, sir!" the soldier protested angrily.

"Stand down!"

Van Rooyen approached the unconscious policeman, knelt down to examine him briefly, before turning his attention to the wounded soldier. Corporal Maritz' was already dying, bleeding out badly from the gaping hole where his throat used to be. He was clutching his neck, staring wildly up at the Sergeant, grunting desperately as blood pulsed through his fingers.

"Take it easy." Van Rooyen said gently, and Amanda was surprised at the compassion in his voice. "You'll be okay."

Van Rooyen stood up and turned to the soldier who had knocked the policeman out, shaking his head. The young man seemed confused, not wanting to believe the interpretation he had just received from his superior, but after Van Rooyen glared angrily at him, he nodded in return.

"Tie this asshole up and bring him along."

"It's another four hours before we reach the town!" one of the soldiers protested.

"Are you fucking deaf?" Van Rooyen yelled out. "Bring him with! The General wants a live specimen, we'll bring him two!"

There was a moment of hesitation before the soldiers moved, gathering around the policeman and using cable ties to tie his hands behind his back and then roping his ankles together. They broke a large branch off a nearby tree and used it to loop through the cable ties, creating a makeshift hanging stretcher. Two soldiers on either side lifted the man up between them, resting the ends of the branch on their shoulders.

"Let's move out!" Van Rooyen barked. He let the convoy pass him, leaning in towards Drake and Amanda as they neared. "And don't try anything stupid." He added.

Jimmy had woken up during the commotion, and he lifted his hand up towards Van Rooyen, surprising both Amanda and Drake. The Sergeant was surprised by the boy's action, and took a step backwards.

"Leave him here." Jimmy pleaded with the Sergeant. "Please, sir!"

Van Rooyen laughed. "And why would I do that, little man?"

"He's sick now." Jimmy replied seriously, a tone to his voice that did not match the miniscule shape and size of his body. "He'll make everyone else sick too."

Amanda felt a chill run down her spine at Jimmy's words. A dark sense of foreboding hung on his words! She stepped forward.

"Please, Sergeant. Listen to him!"

"I take my orders from the General, Miss Hoyer." He replied. "Not a ten-year old."

"I'm twelve." Jimmy replied.

"Whatever." Van Rooyen shook his head. "Keep moving, maam."

"What if he's right?" Amanda pleaded. "He knows better than any of us! You saw what this guy did to your man. You've seen the bodies of those kids and teachers!"

Van Rooyen ignored her, signaling to his men to keep moving. He moved to the back of the convoy, to where the soldier who had knocked the policeman out was waiting. He muttered something to him, and then fell in line behind the convoy. They had walked only a few more steps before the deafening sound of the soldier firing his rifle rung through the air.

Amanda winced at the sound, fighting back tears as she realized what had just happened. The dying soldier had been put down like an animal. She wanted to turn around and slap Van Rooyen as hard as she could, but she knew it would do no good. The man was a monster and she would only aggravate him. Instead she kept her eyes forward and followed the sweaty man in front of her, praying to God that Jimmy had not seen or understood any of it.

They walked for what seemed like hours before Van Rooyen eventually called them to a stop. The soldiers who carried the unconscious policeman dumped him unceremoniously to one side and then settled themselves down around their other prisoners, opening canteens of water and lighting cigarettes. Amanda took up a seat next to Drake and Jimmy, smiling weakly at them. She tousled Jimmy's hair.

"Hey man." She smiled. "Have I told you how proud I am of you for being so brave?"

Jimmy was still lying with his head on Drake's shoulder, and he nodded briefly. "I wasn't scared, Mom."

"I know." Amanda replied. "You're so tough!"

Drake patted Jimmy gently on the back. "Really tough!"

Jimmy lifted his head and looked seriously at Amanda. She leaned in closer to hear what he wanted to say.

"It was supposed to take twelve hours." Jimmy whispered.

Amanda frowned. "What was?"

"It was supposed to take twelve hours for Marko to get sick, but it didn't. It only took six."

"I don't understand." Amanda whispered back.

"It's making them sick faster every time!"

"What is?"

"The dust!" Jimmy moaned. "The dust from the stranger!"

"I'm sorry." Amanda rubbed Jimmy's head. "I still don't understand."

She looked up as Van Rooyen approached, a green military issue water canteen in his outstretched hands. Jimmy turned his head away from the Sergeant, resting it on Drake's shoulder again.

"Drink up." The burly man grunted. "We move out in five."

Amanda took the canteen from him, offering it to Jimmy first, who sipped it gingerly. Amanda took a few swallows of the warm water and then passed the canteen to Drake. When they were done she handed it back to Van Rooyen. As he was about to take it, she pulled it away again.

"Taking this policeman back to Hogsback is a mistake." She said. "Please! Leave him here in the forest."

"I can't do that." Van Rooyen snapped, grabbing the canteen roughly from her. "Stop asking me to, because it won't happen." He walked off, calling his men as he did. "Let's go!"

The four soldiers who were tasked with carrying the unconscious policeman lifted him up again, unsteadily balancing his weight on the branch between them. An item dropped out of the policeman's breast pocket and Van Rooyen stooped to pick it up. It appeared to be a wallet of some sort, and he flipped it open, browsing through the contents and removing a small wad of notes which he slipped into his pocket. He tossed aside a few credit and bank cards, before holding one specific item up to the light from his headlamp. It was a Police Identity Card.

"Who is he?" one of Van Rooyen's men asked curiously.

"Some two-bit nobody from Alice." He replied.

"What was he doing all the way out here?"

"Who knows?" Van Rooyen said. "But we'll find out... eventually. Before long Constable Lutho Gaxela here will be singing like a bird!"

The name struck a chord with Amanda, and she glanced quickly at Drake, who nodded in return. Lutho was the name of the policeman who had gone looking for the missing bus the day before they had arrived in Hogsback! And like others before him, he had gone into the forest as one thing, and come out as something else completely!

### Chapter 51

They arrived at the General's camp outside Hogsback just as the sun was rising behind the Amatola mountains. Amanda was exhausted. They had hiked through the forest for several straight hours, Van Rooyen refusing to stop for another rest. Her feet ached badly, despite the comfortable shoes she had borrowed from Elaine's closet, and she could only imagine how Drake must have felt, as he had carried Jimmy for most of the way! Van Rooyen herded them towards the main tent, ushering them inside as they reached it. The General was waiting for them, seated behind his makeshift desk, arms folded across his chest and a broad grin on his face.

"Welcome back!" he smiled. "I've been expecting you."

Jimmy was standing next to Amanda, holding her hand, and he crept in behind her at the sight of the imposing General. Peterson stood up and walked around the desk, approaching the three of them, before bending down to stare at the young boy.

"And you must be Jimmy!" he grinned. "What an adventure you have had, hey?"

"Stay away from my son." Amanda said, drawing the General's attention. He stood up to his full height and looked menacingly down at her.

"A thank you would be in order." He said. "Don't you think?"

"You're joking, right?" Amanda asked.

The General shook his head sadly. "Gratitude is such a small price to pay for all my help. But then, what else would be expected from deserters such as yourselves?"

Amanda laughed out loud. "Deserters? What do you think we are? We're not one of your wind-up soldiers that have to take orders from you, General. We have rights!"

"No, Miss Hoyer." He replied, returning to his desk. "I'm afraid you're mistaken. You have no rights here. In case you haven't noticed, we're in a state of war! There are no courts or judges or lawyers in Hogsback, because Hogsback doesn't exist anymore unless I say otherwise!"

"You have serious delusions of grandeur." Drake blurted. "Who died and made you God?"

"Well... a bunch of kids, actually." The General replied. "And a bus driver, and, of course, a surprisingly hot lady teacher, which is quite sad actually, as I would have loved to get to know the young lady a little better, if you know what I mean?"

"Fuck you!" Drake lunged towards the General, but was quickly subdued by the entourage of soldiers who were keeping a watchful eye on them. "You leave my sister's name out of your filthy mouth!"

"Did I touch a nerve there?" Peterson chuckled. "Relax, Winslow. I wouldn't touch your sister with your dick, never mind my own! Let's just say she's not my type, shall we?"

"What do you want with us?" Amanda asked.

"Well, let's see." The General clasped his fingers together, forming a steeple shape with his forefingers. "I technically don't need you or your boyfriend for anything really. In fact, I should have you both shot under martial law for breaking the barrier the way you did. Your son, on the other hand, well... that's a different story entirely! You see, we have these questions that need answering, and by 'we', I mean the Department of Health and myself, of course. These questions involve the mysterious deaths of several civilians, most of them related in some or other way to cannibalism, and then there is the problem of the infection – you know, the one that caused those strange little stalks to grow out of dead people's heads. Now, that's the interesting one! Somehow I think Jimmy can tell us a little bit more about that, can't you Jimmy?"

Amanda felt her son squeeze her hand tightly at the mention of his name, and she pushed him further behind her, out of sight from the General.

"My son is twelve years old!" she hissed. "He's just a kid! What could he possibly tell you that your team of scientists and doctors up at the NICD camp couldn't?"

"That remains to be seen at some point." Peterson said. "Luckily for your son, I believe my men have a live specimen of an infected person? That is going to go a long way in giving us the answers we need, I'm sure, but as with everything in life, there are no guarantees, of course! This means we may just need the boy again at a later stage anyway. You realize, of course, that until we're sure, I can't let him go too far."

"So you're just going to keep us prisoner?" Amanda asked. "Against our will?"

"Well that's generally the way prisoners are kept, isn't it? And don't think of yourselves as prisoners – rather as honored guests of the SANDF." He chuckled. "My men will escort you to your new accommodation; I've had it prepared especially!"

They followed Van Rooyen reluctantly to the entrance of the tent, rudely assisted by the prodding of rifle barrels. As they were about to exit the General called out to Drake, who turned around.

"Let me just warn you." Peterson said softly. "I don't take kindly to those who break the rules. You've been given a pass on the first one – there won't be any mercy shown if you break my rules again."

Drake stared emotionlessly back at the General, before raising a fist with the left hand, and then making a winding motion with his right, slowly raising the middle finger of his left hand.

"Smile, General." He said. "You're on camera, you stupid fuck."

The butt of a rifle slammed into Drake's head from behind, and he dropped to the floor in a heap. Amanda shouted and tried to get to him, but she was quickly dragged backwards along with Jimmy out of the tent. They were marched off to a nearby Hummer and shoved inside alongside two soldiers, while Van Rooyen got behind the steering wheel and drove them away from the camp. Amanda watched through the rear window as Drake's motionless body was dragged from the General's tent before he disappeared from sight as they drove up the gravel road towards town.

"Where are they taking him?" she asked the Sergeant angrily.

"To teach him some manners, I would think." Van Rooyen laughed in reply.

Amanda hugged Jimmy close to her as the vehicle bounced up the short hill and onto the main road into Hogsback. She was trying to understand how things had gotten so out of control, how she and Jimmy had become so intricately involved in what was currently happening. The white tents of the NICD, the covered bodies on the lawn of the town library, the army barricades and the mindless actions of ordinary people – it all seemed surreal and dreamlike to her. She could only imagine how Jimmy must feel, and she wished she could tap her magic heels and just fly away with him, away from this hell they found themselves in! But this was not the Land of Oz, and she was not Dorothy, which did not explain why the witches and the monsters seemed so real!

The Hummer pulled up outside of the Arminel Hotel a few moments later and she and Jimmy were ushered out of the vehicle and then led up to the main building. There were people everywhere, most of them local residents of the town, sitting around in confused groups, guarded by the General's soldiers. A few of the NICD staff in their yellow contamination suits were taking blood samples from the townsfolk, while others were walking around with small hand-held scanners, carefully recording data on their clipboards. Amanda noticed a small group of parents from St. Patrick's school, and among them the familiar face of Mr. Hale, seated in the lobby of the hotel under the watchful eye of another soldier. She caught his eye for a moment, and there was a sadness there that she wasn't expecting. He smiled briefly at her, but it was a smile filled with despair. His face disappeared from view as they were led through a small door and down a steep flight of steps into what appeared to be the basement of the hotel. The room below was dry and musky, and they passed several rows of wine racks, filled from floor to ceiling with dusty bottles of wine. Past these there was a metal cage in which the more expensive wines were kept under lock and key. Someone had moved a single bed, a small sofa and a portable toilet into the cage, turning it into a makeshift prison cell. She and Jimmy were ushered inside and the heavy metal gate was slammed shut behind them, quickly chained and locked by Van Rooyen thereafter.

He smiled at them through the bars. "Welcome to Hotel Peterson. Enjoy your stay."

Amanda spat at him, knowing it would have no effect, but hoping it would make her feel better. Van Rooyen wiped the spittle from the side of his face with one hand, and then licked it off, sending a chill of disgust through Amanda's body. He laughed and then marched up the stairs and out of sight, closely followed by his men. The door at the top of the stairs was slammed shut, leaving the two of them alone in the stuffy basement, lit only by the low light of a weak hanging bulb in the center of the room.

Amanda led Jimmy to the bed and had him lie down on it, kissing him gently on the forehead. He had been so quiet for the past few hours and she was concerned that he was returning to the almost catatonic state he had been in for most of his childhood, due to his violent father. She had seen him slowly emerge from that shell over recent years, more specifically over the past six months. She had started believing that he would overcome the trauma inflicted on them by Geoff, but all of the progress he had made seemed to have been wiped out in just a few short days! How long would it take for him to fight his way back again? Would he ever succeed? She felt so responsible for what he was going through right now, and she wished she could take it all back, wished she had kept him home with her instead of sending him on that trip, and wished that she had divorced Geoff before he became the maniac that ruined their lives and almost killed her son!

She sat down on the single seat sofa, suddenly exhausted – both mentally and physically! She closed her eyes for a moment, resting her head against the back of the seat.

She could just sleep, she thought. Sleep and sleep and sleep! And perhaps when she finally woke up none of this would have happened!

Instead she opened her eyes and watched over the tiny shape of her son where he had fallen asleep now on the bed. She would never sleep through again, she realized. Jimmy was all she had, and she would never let him out of her sight again... even if it meant that she had to stay awake for the rest of her life!

### Chapter 52

Amanda wasn't sure how much time had passed, as the basement of the Arminel Hotel had no windows. The General had sent food down for them on three separate occasions and Amanda had enquired about Drake's whereabouts, but the soldiers who came to serve them were tight-lipped and obviously on strict orders not to speak to her. Jimmy had slept for ages, and when he eventually woke up he seemed to have returned to his normal self again – the exhaustion of the past few days had finally worn off, it seemed. He was in good spirits again, although she could sense a hint of darkness at the edge of his familiar smile, and a tint of fear in his usually sparkling eyes. He was much better though, especially after he had cleaned out his plate of food for the third time in a row! His body had recovered from lack of sustenance, and he was less lethargic. Amanda pushed their empty plates under the small gap at the bottom of their prison door and then took a seat on the bed next to him, where he was playing absentmindedly with two popped champagne corks.

"Do you think you're ready to tell Mommy what happened on the bus yet?" she asked gingerly, expecting him to shake his head and turn away, but instead he looked up at her and nodded slowly.

"Okay."

He recanted his version of the events of the past few days as best he could, and in the only way he knew how, he tried childishly to explain the parts he could not fully understand. Amanda listened eagerly, surprised at the part where he had taken on the role of leader in his small group, and shocked by some of the horrific things he described, especially around the Stranger and the other boys – the sick boys, Jimmy called them. Amanda was especially impressed by how her son had managed to outrun and avoid being caught and bitten by his friend, Marko, who had also been infected, and how he had killed and cooked birds and wild rabbits for food. By the time he was finished, she was in awe of the story he had told her. It all seemed impossible, yet listening to the emotion in his voice as he spoke, she knew that it was real and had happened, and by some miracle, he had survived! She had tears in her eyes when he finally finished, at the point where he had been forced to shoot Marko with the bow and arrow to prevent him from hurting her, and she pulled him close then and hugged him as hard as she could!

"I'm so sorry." She sobbed. "I should never have let you go on this camp!"

"It's okay, Mom." He smiled back at her. "I'm sorry I never said goodbye on the bus."

Amanda almost burst into tears again! Jimmy had been through more hell than he deserved, and instead of blaming her he was apologizing! Yes, there were things that had happened to him and his friends that would probably haunt him for life, but he was putting up a really brave face despite that.

"Why did the stranger give you the camera?" Amanda asked, picking the canvas case up from the small table next to the bed where she had left it.

"I don't know." Jimmy replied. "He seemed really worried about it, and I tried to look after it as best I could. I kept it with me the whole time."

"Well, that's very noble of you." She smiled. "To keep a promise like that."

"That was before he bit Miss Winslow." Jimmy said, sadness in his voice. "What was wrong with him, Mommy?"

"I don't know." Amanda replied gently. "But I guess that's what the doctors and scientists are trying to find out."

There was the sound of a door being unlocked, and then footsteps descending down the short wooden staircase to the basement. Amanda stood up and approached the door of their makeshift prison, hoping to see Drake's familiar face appear from around the wine racks, but instead it was a middle-aged black man, neatly dressed in a suit and tie, accompanied by an older white man wearing a white coat with the initials of the NICD stitched onto the breast pocket. He looked sheepishly embarrassed to be there. Marching in behind them was the familiar form of General Peterson, his hat neatly tucked under his arm.

"Ah, Miss Hoyer!" he exclaimed, as if greeting an old friend that he hadn't seen in ages, "It's so good to see you and your boy in good spirits!"

"General." She replied curtly. "I hope you've come to let us out of this cage."

Peterson chuckled loudly. "Not quite yet, my dear. But I have brought some visitors! This is the MEC of the Department of Health in the Eastern Cape, Mr. Thobias Mashinga..."

The African man in the business suit nodded briefly in her direction.

"... and this is Professor Allen Kearns from the National Institute of Communicable Diseases."

"Good day, Miss Hoyer." The Professor smiled briefly. "I hope you don't mind the impromptu visit, but as discussed with the General, it is imperative that we speak to both you and your son."

"Oh lovely." Amanda said. "Well, as you can see, I have no plans."

The Professor looked away, slightly embarrassed it appeared.

"How do you do?" the official from the Department of Health, Mr. Mashinga, said.

"How do you think we're doing?" Amanda asked sarcastically. "We're being held here as prisoners against our will! No thanks to you or the government!"

"I do apologize for that, Miss. But I'm sure you're able to appreciate the seriousness of the situation we have on our hands, and there are obviously precautions that need to be taken."

"Precautions?" Amanda laughed. "Locking up a twelve year old kid is a precaution? Against what? What exactly do you think he could do?"

"Please, Miss Hoyer." Professor Kearns stepped forward, interrupting the MEC as he was about to speak. "We don't want you to take this the wrong way. I think what Mr. Mashinga was trying to say is that there is a great possibility that your son may be able to help us with the challenges we have."

"Help you? How? And what challenges?"

The Professor looked around uncomfortably. He walked over to the General, muttered something in his ear and then stepped back expectantly. The General frowned, spoke briefly to the MEC, and then turned to face Amanda.

"Well, apparently my presence here is not conducive to an open discussion taking place, so I will leave you in the capable hands of my colleagues." He said. "Please co-operate, Miss Hoyer. It's really going to be in your and James' best interest."

"Where is Drake?" Amanda asked as he turned away. "Until I know that he is safe and alive, you won't be getting a word out of me or Jimmy!"

The General turned to face them again, considering her statement for a moment. Eventually he nodded and sighed. "Fair enough. Your friend, Mr. Winslow, is alive and well, I promise."

"I want to see him."

"That's not going to be possible right now." The General shook his head.

"Then how do I know you're not lying to me?"

"I have no reason to lie, Miss Hoyer. You just have to trust me."

Amanda laughed. "Trust you? Let me make this clear. No confirmation about Drake, no discussions with any of your puppets!"

The General's face darkened with anger at the demands being made by a mere civilian, and he looked as if he was about to refuse her request, when he must have noticed the determination in her eyes, and he finally relented.

"Very well." He sighed, irritated. "I can let you speak to him. Briefly."

"Good enough." Amanda said, surprised by the sense of relief that had suddenly filled her body. The General pulled a small device from his pocket, about the size of a cellphone, only bulkier – almost like a television remote. He typed in a code and a green light flashed at the top, after which he unclipped a two-way radio from his belt and spoke briefly into it. There was a crackle of static and then a distorted reply. After a few seconds it crackled to life again and a voice spoke over it – distant and unclear, but instantly recognizable to Amanda. It was Drake!

"Amanda? Oh, thank God!"

She sighed with relief, approaching the gate, reaching for the radio, but the General waved his finger. "You've heard his voice. That was the deal."

"I wanted to speak with him!" Amanda cried, but the General shook his head in reply.

"If you help these gentlemen out, we can discuss bringing Mr. Winslow to you, okay?"

Amanda realized she wasn't going to get anything else out of the General and she finally nodded in agreement. He greeted his colleagues before marching up the staircase and out of the basement, leaving her with the two officials.

"So." She said. "Tell me again how exactly my son can help you, and, more importantly, why he even should?"

"That's a very good question." Mr. Mashinga replied, pulling up two nearby stools and placing them near the metal bars that separated them. "And one which I'm sure Professor Kearns may be the most qualified to answer."

"Well?" Amanda asked impatiently, focusing her gaze on the elderly professor as he sat down.

"I'm not exactly sure how to put this..." he muttered.

"How about you just spit it out?" she asked.

Professor Kearns shifted uncomfortably in his seat, before sighing and staring directly into Amanda's eyes, a steely determination in them.

"Jimmy, your son, may be the only thing standing between civilization as we know it, and a total world apocalypse!"

### Chapter 53

It took Amanda a moment to comprehend what the Professor had just said. She knew there were strange things happening in and around the little mountain village of Hogsback, and she had seen firsthand the mindless antics of two apparently infected individuals, but she had never in her wildest imagination believed it was anything more than a minor unknown infection, isolated at best! How had things gone from that to a world apocalypse? And was that even possible? Those things only happened in the movies, right?

"I know you must think I'm crazy." The Professor continued, "But I assure you, I am basing my conclusion on scientific fact. This virus, or whatever it actually is, is spreading quickly. I'm not sure if you heard, but there was an outbreak at the military camp just outside of town yesterday – they were interrogating an infected policeman and he died. Three hours later he grew a fleshy protrusion from the back of his head, similar to those on some of the bodies we autopsied earlier, and he released enzymes into the air which were breathed in by three soldiers in the camp!"

"Enzymes?"

"As best as we can tell, yes. Microscopic spores, basically."

"What about the soldiers who breathed them in? What happened to them?"

"They've been isolated and contained. As yet they have not started producing more spores, but they have shown rapid changes in behavior. Aggression, mostly."

"So how is Jimmy supposed to help in all of this?" Amanda asked curiously.

"As far as we know, Jimmy is the only person who has come into direct contact with these enzymes and who has not been affected by them. For some reason, we believe he may be immune somehow."

"That's crazy!" Amanda exclaimed. "He's just a kid."

"That may well be," the Professor replied, "but until we've run some tests there is no way we can be a hundred percent certain that he isn't immune... or infected."

"Forget it! You're not probing my child like some lab rat!"

"It won't be like that, I promise!" Professor Kearns said. "It's a simple case of drawing some blood and running it through phlebotomy."

"Miss Hoyer." The MEC from the Department of Health drew her attention. "Besides the scientific tests that Professor Kearns needs to do, we would also like Jimmy's assistance in determining the cause of the infection. We believe he may have been one of the first to come into contact with the enzymes, and it would help a great deal if we were able to trace it back to the source."

"Why should we help you?" Amanda asked. "You're keeping us locked up here like common criminals, even though we have committed no crime! And the General has my friend in custody and God knows what he's doing to him!"

"I can help with that, to a degree." Mr. Mashinga replied. "Although the military has full control over the site, they are indirectly reporting back to the Department of Health. I could make the necessary arrangements to have you, your son and Mr. Winslow released."

Amanda considered the MEC's statement, not sure if she should believe a single word that came out of any official's mouth right now.

"I want to help them, Mom." Jimmy said from beside her, surprising her.

"No, baby." She smiled. "You don't need to worry yourself about any of this; I've got it under control."

"Please Mommy." He replied, and there was a determination in his voice. "I know what happens to the people that get sick."

Amanda turned back to the two men on the other side of the cage. "Look, my son has endured enough trauma to last a lifetime! I'm not prepared to put him through any more!"

"That's exactly why you have to help us!" the Professor replied. "If we don't get a handle on this infection, it could spread! The three soldiers who were affected yesterday started changing in less than two hours! If they infect anybody else, and it compounds, this entire town could be infected less than twelve hours later! That would include both yourself and your friend, Mr. Winslow!"

Amanda closed her eyes. She was suddenly so exhausted! A million questions were running through her mind, and she was trying desperately to manufacture answers for all of them, but she kept running around in circles. What if they were right? What if Jimmy's blood could help put an end to all of this? It may be the only way they were ever going to get out of this cage and back to their lives again!

"Just a sample of blood?" she sighed eventually.

"That's all." Professor Kearns replied.

"And any idea Jimmy might have of what the source was." Mr. Mashinga added.

"I can help you with the source." Amanda said. "There was a man who died on the bus. He wasn't part of the school trip. They picked him up after he was injured, and he attacked and killed Elaine Winslow. He was the one that was carrying the infection."

"That's our John Doe" Professor Kearns said excitedly. "We need to relook at his autopsy results!"

"There's more." Amanda said, and both men leaned eagerly forward. "This belonged to him." She held up the camera case to show them. "It might help you find out who he was."

Mr. Mashinga held his hand out for the camera, but Amanda pulled it back out of reach.

"Not so fast." She said. "You get the camera when we get out."

The two men huddled together for a moment, discussing something in low tones. After a while they looked up, and the Professor was nodding.

"Okay. We'll see what we can do. Can we get the sample of blood in the meantime? I brought the equipment required with."

Amanda looked at Jimmy, who nodded in reply. "Very well." She said.

Professor Kearns jumped up excitedly and collected a small bag he had placed on the floor behind him. He opened it up and withdrew a syringe, rubber tourniquet, disinfection swabs and a small vacuum container with an attached plastic pipe. He approached the cage and pulled his stool closer, so that he could work his arms through the bars. Amanda walked up to him with Jimmy at her side. Jimmy held out his arm bravely.

"Thank you, son." The Professor smiled, wrapping the rubber tourniquet around the area above Jimmy's elbow and pulling it tight enough to allow the veins in Jimmy's forearm to become pronounced. He inserted the plastic pipe from the container to the end of the syringe, and then rubbed Jimmy's forearm with a disinfection swab. "Are you ready?"

Jimmy nodded, and Amanda rubbed his shoulders, so proud of his bravery. The Professor stuck the needle into Jimmy's arm and immediately blood flowed from the vein into the small container. When it was almost full the Professor pulled the needle out quickly and held a small piece of cotton wool over the tiny puncture wound. He applied some pressure and after a moment removed the cotton wool.

"There we go!" the Professor tousled Jimmy's hair through the bars. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Jimmy shook his head, following Amanda back to the bed.

"Thank you, Miss Hoyer." The Professor said, and there was genuine gratitude in his voice. Amanda nodded in reply.

"We'll work on your request." Mr. Mashinga promised, as he and the Professor stood up, preparing to leave.

"I'd appreciate that." Amanda said. "When will you have the results of the blood tests?"

"By tomorrow morning."

They greeted and made their way up the stairs again, and then out into the hotel above them. Amanda sighed and hugged Jimmy.

"You were so brave!" she beamed.

"It was nothing." He replied.

Strangely, Amanda knew that he wasn't just being boastful. She settled him down for a nap, and then took up her spot on the single sofa. Their prison was getting to her now. She wasn't sure how many days it had been, but she was certain she couldn't take many more of them! She was about to close her eyes and doze off when she heard the basement door being opened again, and she sat up expectedly. Heavy footsteps made their way down the wooden stairs and after a moment a familiar face appeared out of the darkness.

Van Rooyen!

She went ice-cold at the sight of the man, fully aware that he was not here to pay a social visit! He marched quickly up to the cage, slipping a set of keys from his belt. As he reached the door he unlocked it, swinging the gate angrily open and stepping inside.

"What do you want?" Amanda asked, starting to get up, but he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and shoved her hard backwards into the seat again. Jimmy raised his head and started crying out.

"Shut up!" the burly man growled, reaching past Amanda to the foot of the bed and lifting up the canvas case that contained the stranger's camera. He turned and marched directly out of the cage again, slamming the door shut and chaining it once more.

"The General says I must send his regards, and to remind you that you are in no position to negotiate with us."

Amanda rushed at the metal cage door, slamming both hands against it in anger!

"Let us out of here!" she screamed.

Van Rooyen smiled, but it was a smile filled with contempt. He turned and marched away again, returning to the world outside and leaving Amanda to shout and scream behind him as he left.

### Chapter 54

It felt like days had passed. The soldiers had come and gone, bringing food and water, and at one time a few changes of clothing for the two of them. Disorientation had begun setting in, as time seemed to be standing still. At one point Amanda was convinced she was going crazy, as she had heard screaming and gunfire filter mutedly through the ceiling above them, but then it had gone quiet again and she wasn't sure if it had been the remnants of a dream or not. It was only when the soldiers stopped coming that she began to worry. She had started getting hungry, which meant the mealtimes had passed and they had been forgotten! Wicked thoughts of them starving to death alone in this cage flirted with her sanity, and she had to force herself not to think that way, had to remain positive that it would not happen! When she eventually heard the door at the top of the stairs opening at long last, she almost cried out in relief!

Hurried footsteps came down them, and she rushed to the door of the cage, peering out and hoping to see a soldier carrying food, but instead the distraught looking face of Professor Kearns appeared, carrying an envelope in his hand.

"What the fuck is going on!" Amanda yelled at him. "They haven't fed us in days!"

"I'm so sorry!" the Professor gasped, out of breath. "I came as soon as I could! We have to get you out of here!"

"What's happening out there?" Amanda asked.

"It's chaos!" he cried. "The infection has spread! People are killing each other and even the military is collapsing! I'm not sure how long the barrier is going to hold!"

"How did that happen?" Amanda asked. "I thought you had it contained?"

"It was." The Professor was searching around the basement, trying to find something with which to break the lock on the door open. "But one of the three infected soldiers attacked a lab technician, and then he spored."

"Spored?"

"He grew one of those weird skin-cell stalks from his head. It was so quick! It took less than ninety minutes before it released the enzymes and infected the whole goddamned building! From there it was over! Within an hour people were biting each other like animals!"

"How many people were infected?" Amanda asked.

"Close to five hundred." The Professor replied. "Most of them are dead already - killed by the military, but not before they attacked and killed another two hundred or so. There are some people outside right now, but they're still in the beginning stages and aren't a threat yet, which is why we need to go now." He paused, approaching the cage and adding: "Almost every person in this town is dead, Miss Hoyer!"

Amanda felt her knees weakening, and she had to sit down on the edge of the bed, pulling Jimmy closer to her. "Oh my God!"

"This will do!" Professor Kearns exclaimed as he found a long metal bar lying under a pile of wooden crates in the far corner of the basement.

He came over to the cage again, wedging the bar into the padlock and pressing downwards with all his strength. The lock popped loose and he yanked the cage door open.

"Come! We have to go!"

"Go where exactly?" Amanda asked, directing Jimmy out of the cage in front of her.

"We have to get out of this town!"

"Wait!" Amanda grabbed the professor by the sleeve of his coat. "We can't just leave! We have to help the people that are left!"

"There is nothing we can do here!" The Professor hissed.

"What about Jimmy's blood? Did you test it?"

The Professor nodded excitedly. "That's why we have to leave! I believe we can make an antidote for the enzyme that is attacking everyone. But it will have to happen in East London at the National Health Laboratories. It's the closest place and they have the right equipment."

"Can't you do it here?"

"We have." He replied, ushering them towards the stairs. "But there's not enough to go around. We need the NHLS to mass-produce."

"Where is it?" Amanda forced the Professor to stop walking as they reached the staircase. "Where's the antidote you produced?"

The Professor reached into his pocket and pulled out two small vials of clear liquid. "We managed to extract two doses. One is for you, and the other is for the laboratory in East London, as a prototype."

"Then take some more blood! Make a few more batches at least!" she exclaimed. "What about Drake? Is he still alive?"

"I'm not sure. As for the antidote, it's too late." The Professor sighed. "The NICD tents have been destroyed. Most of my lab tech's are dead, even if I wanted to, it would be impossible to produce further batches here!"

"There must be something we can do!" Amanda cried.

The Professor shook his head. "The General is preparing for a purge, as he calls it. In a few more hours there won't be anybody left alive to help! Here, take a look at this." He handed her the envelope he had been carrying.

"What is it?"

"The photographs from the camera you gave us."

Amanda flipped the top of the envelope open and pulled out the glossy A4 prints that had been developed. She browsed through them quickly, frowning. The first few photographs were of a lodge on the banks of a river, and then there were several pictures of birds, brightly colored parrots and a whole array of other bird and animal species that she did not recognize. "What is this?"

"Keep looking." The Professor said, as he prepared a syringe, filling it with one of the two vials of antidote, and injecting it into Amanda's arm before she could object.

The last ten or so photographs were of a gloomy looking clearing in the jungle. There was an old dead tree in the center of it, and a shiny layer of soil on the ground. There were a few close-ups of insects – ants, to be exact. One of the close-ups showed an ant attached to the leaf of a plant, and shortly thereafter a still photo of thousands of tiny particles floating in the air.

"What am I looking at?" she asked.

The Professor took a deep breath, turning and sitting on the stairs. "These photographs were taken in South America, somewhere in the Amazon Jungle. The ant you're looking at is a Carpenter ant, fairly common to most countries, in different species. The interesting thing about these particular ants in these photographs is the tiny stalk protruding from the back of their heads – do you see it?"

"Yes." Amanda replied, studying one of the photographs.

"Well, I did some research, and you may not believe me, but you're welcome to Google it if you ever see a computer again. You'll notice the body of the ant is fruiting, or drying out, well that is due to a specific fungus known as the _Ophyocordiceps_ fungus. This fungus attaches itself to the Amazonian Carpenter ant's brain in the form of an inhaled spore, and basically takes control of it. The fungus then directs the ant to this specific plant in the jungle, which the ant attaches itself to, drinks the sap from, and then dies there – drying out."

"That's all very interesting, but what does that have to do with anything that's happening now?"

"Well, the fungus, which basically turns the ant into a zombie, for lack of a better word, then facilitates the growth of a stalk from the back of the dead ants head and releases more of these spores into the air, which, of course, infect more ants and so on and so on!"

"Zombie ants? You must be joking right?"

"It's all real!" the Professor exclaimed. "What's hard to imagine is how this fungus managed to jump from ants to humans! I think these photographs were taken by the man who killed your friend's sister! I think he breathed these spores in, and somehow the fungus adapted or changed to infect the human brain – his brain, to be exact!"

"But this happened in South America, right? How did it get all the way over here, to South Africa – to Hogsback of all places?"

"I'm not sure exactly." The Professor replied. "This photographer must have been travelling to here, or perhaps he even came from here, we're not sure. The point is, he brought it back with him, and now it's infected others. And just like the ants, the infection is spreading, more and more dead people are developing these stalks on their heads and releasing more and more spores!"

"Why are they biting each other?" Amanda asked. "That part makes no sense. I know you called them zombie ants, but they weren't attacking other ants, were they?"

"No – the fungus requires certain enzymes in order to grow, enzymes that it was only getting from that one specific plant. The correlation between the plant and humans is the really scary part! I believe it has something to do with glucose."

"Glucose? You mean sugar?"

"In its purest form, yes. As in the type found in the leaves and stems of plants, and also the type found in human blood in microscopic quantities."

Amanda frowned. "So you're saying the fungus needs the glucose from human blood to initiate growth and it's getting it by making the mind-controlled host bite into other humans?"

"Think about it." The Professor said. "Every victim so far has had his throat ripped out. The carotid artery runs through the neck. The infected are ingesting the blood, from which the glucose is then extracted, allowing the fungus to kill its host and re-spore."

"So why is Jimmy immune to the fungus?"

"I believe he has a rare genetic disease, possibly inherited from a parent. It's a form of hypoglycemia, except a gene called the AKT2 confuses the body into believing there is insulin in the blood, when there isn't. It affects about one in 100,000 children, who then carry the gene with them and pass it on occasionally to their children."

"Hypoglycemia? Low blood sugar, right?"

"Exactly – except with the AKT2 gene the symptoms are not obvious."

"Oh my God!" Amanda exclaimed.

"What is it?"

"I think I know where Jimmy got his immunity from! His father, my ex-husband, Geoff, had hypoglycemia. Could he have been carrying this rare gene and then passed it on to Jimmy?"

"Most definitely. It would explain Jimmy's immunity."

Amanda's head started spinning suddenly, and she had to find a place to sit down before she fell over. She pulled Jimmy in close to her, savoring the smell of his hair as she ran her fingers through it. She was having a hard time wrapping her head around the fact that the madman who had almost killed both her and Jimmy six years ago, the man who had given them nothing but a life filled with fear and pain and scars, was also, unbelievably, the only reason that Jimmy was still alive!

### Chapter 55

As they left the basement, Amanda had a hard time believing that the room she was looking at now was the same quaint reception and lobby that she and Drake had checked in at a few short days before. The entire room seemed to have been turned upside down! The antique sofas were ripped to shreds, the mahogany panels of wood in the reception counter had been splintered by bullets, and glass from the windows covered everything! There were also several bodies scattered around the room, some lying on their own – riddled with bullet holes, others lying in pairs, strange couplings of death. Blood was everywhere.

"Come." Professor Kearns said. "General Peterson has gone back to camp for a moment. We don't have much time."

She tried her best to shield Jimmy from the horrific sight as the Professor led them through the lobby and out through the front doors into the parking lot. It wasn't much better out there either, but at least there was a slight breeze blowing which hid the overpowering stench of blood and death. The skies were dark, heavy with rainclouds that threatened to release a ton of water at any moment. Amanda had to shield her eyes from the brightness, after so many days in the basement with only the dim bulb. The first thing she noticed was that Drake's BMW was still in the parking lot, although it had been completely vandalized. The windows had been broken, silver circles peppered the black body from gunfire, and even the tires were flat. The same was true of most of the vehicles in the parking lot. There was very little movement out in the street, although it was filled with people. Dozens of them were standing motionlessly in front of the hotel, backs to the approaching trio, staring out into the nearby forests, not moving nor acknowledging their presence. At the end of the road nearest to them, the yellow barriers were still in place, and she could just make out two soldiers crouching behind them, weapons at the ready and aimed down the street at the unmoving masses. She grabbed the Professors arm, drawing his attention to the guards.

"It's okay." He assured her. "They're only shooting at anything that moves towards them. As long as we're headed in the opposite direction, we'll be fine."

"How are you planning on getting us out of here?" she asked.

"Mr. Mashinga is making arrangements with the soldiers at the other end of the street as we speak. We just have to meet him there."

"Is he going with us?"

"That was the plan, originally, but things have changed."

Amanda held tightly onto Jimmy's hand as they strolled hurriedly down the center of the street towards the far end of town, too engrossed in the crazy scene on Main Rd. to take any notice of what the Professor was saying. The road looked like a war zone. Cars were parked haphazardly along the road, some of them on fire, others completely destroyed. The hordes of motionless people in the road, not moving or speaking, were creepy to say the least, and as they passed one she caught a glimpse of his staring eyes – they were as emotionless as those of a dead person – blank and dark and unmoving. Jimmy held her hand even tighter at this point, and she realized that it had not been the first time he'd seen people in this state.

"What are they staring at?" she asked the Professor.

"The forest, I guess. For some reason it attracts them - perhaps it is the reason the photographer headed for here in the first place - maybe the similarities between the Amatola and the Amazon, I'm not sure. Amanda... Mashinga's infected!"

Amanda stopped in her tracks, pulling Jimmy back towards her. "What do you mean?"

The Professor turned and looked back at them, an apologetic look on his face. "It's still in the early stages. First nothing changes, and then the comatose state follows" he gestured at the motionless people in the road around them. "After that the intense desire to ingest human blood, and finally the fruiting of the spore-sac."

"Well what stage is he in then?"

"We got infected less than five minutes before I came to fetch you."

"We?" Amanda had to swallow after she said the word. "You mean..."

Professor Kearns nodded, smiling sadly. "Yes. Me as well."

Amanda shook her head. "How long until you... you know."

"At the rate it's been going recently, about thirty minutes before coma stage."

Amanda's heart skipped a beat. "Well use the last vial on yourself and come with us!"

"That was never the plan." The Professor sighed. "It was a risk we had to take, to set you free. You and Jimmy have to go alone. God forbid, if anything happens to Jimmy, at least you will still have the remaining vial as a sample for the lab. Mashinga and I will do our best to sustain the barrier and prevent the fungus from spreading beyond this town – and hopefully hide your escape from the General for as long as possible."

"I don't understand." Amanda said, looking around at the town that a few days ago had been such a natural wonder, yet now appeared to be nothing more than a creepy ghost town – filled with the unmoving ghosts of the living. "Why would you risk getting infected and possibly dying, just to save us?"

Professor Kearns took a step closer, hunching down to be at eye level with Jimmy. He touched him gently on the cheek with the fingers of his hand, a solemn expression on his face. "Isaiah 11:6." He said softly. "The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat; and a child will lead them." He looked up at Amanda, a determined look on his face. "The lives lost here, including my own, will be a drop in the ocean if we don't get that antidote produced! Your son is the key to preventing this world as we know it from ending! You have to get him and this vial to East London, at any cost!"

"I don't know what to say." Amanda replied, tears welling up in her eyes. "That you would do this..."

"We don't have much time." Professor Kearns said. "Please. We have to move."

He stood up quickly and continued walking down the road. Amanda followed close behind, Jimmy in tow. They reached the barrier at the Alice end of town just as Mashinga appeared to have wrapped up his negotiations with the soldiers. He approached them hurriedly, waving his arms excitedly.

"Allen! Thank God you're here! I've arranged everything."

"What's the plan?" Professor Kearns asked.

"Miss Hoyer and her son can take my car." He replied, pointing at a white luxury Range Rover parked to the side of the road with the familiar red and white government licence plates. "The soldiers will let her through if she leaves now."

"I don't know how to thank you." Amanda replied.

Mashinga waved her gratitude away. "It's nothing." He turned towards Professor Kearns. "Do you have the antidote?"

The Professor removed it from his pocket, handing it to Mashinga who held out his hand for it.

"Alright then." He said, turning towards his car.

Amanda and Jimmy started following him, but he stopped in his tracks a few steps later, turning around and facing them. At first Amanda couldn't quite understand why he was pointing a pistol at them, and for a moment she thought she was just seeing things, but then she caught a glimpse of the MEC's eyes, and the realization hit her too late. Thobias Mashinga pulled the trigger, firing three shots into the Professor's chest, sending him sprawling to the ground, arms flailing, where he convulsed briefly before he stopped breathing entirely. He turned the gun on Amanda and Jimmy next.

"Give me the child." He hissed.

Amanda moved Jimmy behind her, placing herself in the firing path. "What are you doing?" she asked angrily.

"Saving the world." He sneered. "And myself, of course. Although the Professor's intentions were truly noble, I really did not see myself staying behind in this hell hole with these monsters. And there is a perfectly good antidote available that would mean I'd be immune to all of this anyway! I'd have a much higher chance of getting your son to that laboratory than you would, don't you agree?"

"You're not taking my son." Amanda said defiantly. "Not unless you kill me first!"

Mashinga laughed, and it was a crazy sound in the midst of the grey morbidity of the dying village. "Do you think I'd hesitate for a second? You're not the only one with a family, Miss Hoyer... I have one too, and I would likewise do anything to protect them – including taking your life or selfishly saving my own!"

Amanda glanced across at the two soldiers who manned the barricade to her right. They had purposely turned their backs to the goings on in the street behind them, sufficiently bribed by the MEC to do so, it appeared. She wasn't going to get any help from them! She stared back at the crazed minister, confident that he would pull that trigger if she did not comply!

"I'll need your assurance that your first priority will be to take care of my son if anything happens to me." She said eventually.

Mashinga nodded. "Of course! It's in my own best interest, after all."

Amanda hunched her shoulders and dropped her head. She knelt down next to Jimmy and whispered briefly in his ear. He nodded in return before she stood up, tousling his hair and leading him reluctantly by the hand towards Mashinga's waiting car. The MEC seemed hyper-active, even manic, as he bounced to open the rear door of the car for them. As Amanda reached the open door, with Jimmy in front of her as if she were about to hoist him inside, she suddenly stepped backwards and slammed her elbow with all her force into Mashinga's midriff, doubling the overweight minister in two. Seizing the opportunity she pushed him to the side, sending him tumbling to the ground, his pistol flying from his hands. He dropped the small vial of antidote and it rolled across the tarmac. Amanda reached for it, scooping it up along with Mashinga's pistol, which she tucked into the back of her jeans, before she grabbed Jimmy's arm and ran towards the nearby lawns of the library, directly across the road from them.

Mashinga, who had been winded by her surprise attack, had now found his feet and his voice, and had started shouting orders at the nearby soldiers.

"Kill her! Kill the bitch!"

### Chapter 56

The short distance from the edge of the lawn to the front doors of the library, although only a mere ten meters or so, seemed as long as a football field to her. She dragged Jimmy mercilessly along with her, aware that she was probably bruising his arm, but acutely attuned to the fact that if they stopped for even a moment they would both be dead! Just as they reached the small porch, which was protected by an overhanging wooden awning, she felt the first bullet whizz past her left ear, followed shortly thereafter by a cracking sound and then the boom of the firing rifle. The bullet tore through the door in front of her, gouging a large piece of wood from it, sending splinters flying towards her eyes. She shielded her head as she slammed into the heavy door with her shoulder, simultaneously reaching for the handle.

Please be open! She screamed inside, praying for the smallest miracle, as a locked door now would mean certain death!

The door burst open immediately, and she and Jimmy tumbled inside, collapsing over each other as she shoved the door shut behind her with her foot. The firing of guns continued, and bullets thudded against and penetrated the wooden façade of the library building, whizzing loudly above them, slamming into bookshelves and books and shattering glass. She thought it would never end, as she covered Jimmy's tiny body with her own, shielding his head with her arms and whispering frantically into his ear. She was terrified, but she had to be strong right now! She had to be brave!

The firing ceased after a few moments, allowing thousands of pieces of paper and splinter and glass to settle over them, the absence of chaotic sound almost heavy on her eardrums now. She lifted her head to stare through the dust-filled room at the closed door, which was now peppered with holes, letting dim shafts of light through like miniature spotlights. Jimmy coughed beneath her, and she lifted her weight from him, holding his hands in her face.

"Are you okay, baby?"

He nodded in reply, spitting out a combination of dust and dirt.

"Let's go." She said. "Quickly!"

They got to their feet and made their way through towards the rear of the building, passing the musty smelling rows of books and the small circular librarian's counter. The lights were off inside, but there was a skylight above which let in just enough light for them to avoid bumping in to any of the small tables and chairs that were stacked around the building. There was a door at the end of the main room which led them through to a public toilet. Amanda headed straight for the opposite end of the room and a small window against the furthest wall. She tried the tiny latch, but it had not been opened in years and was completely rusted shut. Looking around the room she spotted a cylindrical metal rubbish bin, intended for tossing away hand drying paper. She left Jimmy's hand for a moment to pick the bin up, holding it above her head as she approached the window, before slamming it forward and shattering the glass. She cleared the edges of the window frame from leftover glass before tossing the bin noisily aside.

"I need you to be brave, now." She smiled at Jimmy, who in reply stepped forward towards the window and held up his arms for her to lift him. She picked him up, helping him through the small window and supporting his weight as he hung on the other side, before releasing him to fall a short distance to the soft grass outside. She hoisted herself up next, head first through the window, belly pressing painfully into the metal frame and tiny fragments of leftover glass. She slid forward, almost crying out as the glass fragments cut lightly into her skin, and then she was through and landed hard on the ground.

She brushed herself off as she got back to her feet, grabbed Jimmy's hand and then headed to the left along the back of the building. She paused at the corner, peering carefully around. She could make out the nearby plastic yellow barriers in the street at the exit of town, and she could see Mashinga speaking heatedly to the two soldiers who guarded it. After a few moments he patted one of them on the back, and then climbed into his Range Rover. The vehicle pulled up to the barricade and the soldiers opened a path for him to drive through!

Amanda felt her heart pounding in her chest as she looked down at the small vial of clear liquid antidote that she had pulled from her pocket. This tiny flask represented a safe journey beyond this town, without the danger of infecting other people in the villages, towns and cities around the Eastern Cape. The fact that Mashinga had left Hogsback while infected, without being treated, and was heading towards the nearest town left an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach! His actions could spread the infection even further, to a point where it may be too late even if she managed to get Jimmy to the National Health Laboratories! She had to do something but she had no idea what it was going to be!

The sky above them brightened suddenly as lightning pierced the dark clouds. This was followed by a deafening bang which they felt right through the ground they were standing on. A few seconds later large ice-cold drops of rain started pelting down, soaking them in an instant! Amanda steered Jimmy across a short patch of open ground at the side of the building to the shelter of a concrete wall beneath a large overhanging oak tree, which managed to protect them from the bulk of the downpour. The rain came down in buckets, a thunderous roar that not only made it impossible to hear each other speak, but which Amanda also knew would provide them the much needed cover to get past the barrier ahead of them and away from this town, once and for all!

She made Jimmy follow her along the boundary wall of the property, behind the pretty rose bushes that had been planted along its edge. At the end of the yard, where the concrete wall gave way to waist high wooden beams which made up the front fence of the library, she crouched down and peered through the rain at the nearby military blockade. It was less than fifteen meters from where they were, and from what she could see, both soldiers had disappeared into the prefabricated guard house that had been built on the furthest side of the road, closing the door behind them to avoid the rain. There were windows in the guard house which faced down the street, but from her position they would not be able to see them slip past the side of it. She was grateful for the rain now, as it would mean their salvation!

She held Jimmy's hand tightly and stepped over the low fencing, helping him over behind her. Then she crouch-walked towards the nearest yellow barrier, keeping a constant eye on the door of the guard house for fear that it may swing open at any moment. She could hear her heart pounding furiously over the roar of the falling rain, and she was certain the soldiers could hear it too! Her fears were unfounded though, as they reached the barrier, hidden from sight of the soldiers.

"Okay, baby." She said to Jimmy. "We're going to start running now, and Mommy needs you to run for as far and as fast as you have ever run before, okay? Can you do that?"

"What do I get if I beat you?" Jimmy asked seriously, and Amanda almost laughed out loud at the earnest look on his face.

"Whatever you want, my boy." She smiled. She repositioned her grip on his hand, and then slowly counted out: "Ready... one, two..."

"Leaving so soon?"

The question was shouted out from behind them, startling her and making her spin around in surprise. The smug face of General Peterson was looking back at her through the rain. There were two more armed soldiers at his side, and behind them stood Sergeant van Rooyen, holding a badly beaten Drake by the arm! Amanda's heart leapt at the sight of him!

"Drake!" she cried, standing up and stepping towards him, but the soldiers at General Peterson's side cautioned her to stop.

"You disappoint me, Miss Hoyer." The General said, trying to make himself heard over the drenching downpour. "I thought we were tight?"

Amanda laughed. "Then we obviously have different definitions for our relationship. I never could buy into the whole master and slave concept!"

"Ah, well." The General sighed dramatically. "I guess we'll have to relook at our options then." He glanced upwards, into the rain, squinting his eyes against the drops. "Why don't we go somewhere with less water and discuss this further?"

"You mean back to our prison?" Amanda shook her head. "So you can leave us there to starve to death again?"

"That was unfortunate." The General replied. "And completely unintentional, I assure you! As you may be aware by now, things got a little bit out of control over the past few days."

Amanda raised her arms at her side and waved them around. "What more do you want with us, General? This town is dead. So far you seem to have done a great job of containing the infection, although your methods involve slaughtering human beings like animals, so why do you still need us? Let us go, please! There's a laboratory in East London that can produce an antidote to all of this, and we can end it once and for all. If you really wanted to help us, why aren't you driving us there yourself right now?"

"I'm a military man." Peterson replied. "I have very little interest in chemical solutions, antidotes, biological agents... those are things best left for the geeks in white lab coats. I believe in cause and effect, controlling the situation, managing the enemy. Yes, perhaps my methods have been frowned upon by some, but let's be honest... the threat is under control. In a few days there will be nobody left to kill, and then the world can return to normal again, oblivious of how close it came to extinction. That's what I do, Miss Hoyer. I clean up. These few comatose residents standing in the street staring into space are the last of the infected..." He gestured towards the road behind him, and then froze, his arm still half-raised.

Amanda looked past the General, through the grey blanket of rain, and it did not take her long to realize why the General had been silenced. Fifty to sixty of the infected residents of Hogsback that had been scattered along the road a few minutes earlier had now come out of their comatose state and were standing together in a large crowd, staring curiously at the small group of uninfected people near the end of the road. But it wasn't the fact that they were standing there that had shocked Amanda... it was the low sound they were emitting as they stared them down. A low hum of noise, multiplied by their numbers, throaty and guttural at the same time, the sound a hungry wolf might make when cornering his prey, except this was not one wolf, but an entire pack!

Growling!

### Chapter 57

"Feeders!" the General hissed, turning to face the mindless horde.

Van Rooyen forced Drake to follow him to a spot next to the General, while the two soldiers who had accompanied them, as well as the two from the guard house behind them, formed a line in front of the General and the others, readying their R4 rifles for battle.

"This is it." The General said. "The last of the last. Prepare yourselves!"

"What are you going to do?" Amanda protested, but he ignored her. "You're just going to shoot them down?"

"Stay out of this, Miss Hoyer." Van Rooyen replied on the General's behalf.

"If you trap them together and let us get an antidote produced in East London, we can still save these people!" Amanda cried, but her lamentations were falling on deaf ears. Drake stepped away from the Sergeant, who was now more concerned with the slowly swaying crowd of people a short distance away in the rain, and slipped his hand into Amanda's, smiling briefly but with obvious pain from the cuts on his lips.

"It won't help." He said gently. "The General has his own agenda. Besides, we're outnumbered nine to sixty."

The crowd of Feeders, the name the General had given the infected, seemed to move in unison, as they took a step forward. The soldiers on the front line tensed up, raising their weapons. As if by some silent command the Feeders suddenly attacked, rushing at the small group of survivors, with a speed that surprised Amanda. These were not some undead monsters from a Hollywood movie, limited by decomposition and frail muscles or tendons, these were fit and healthy human beings, fully in control of their bodies! The only difference was that they were being fueled by an intense desire to satisfy a deep and confusing thirst for the tiny amounts of glucose in uninfected human blood!

"Run!" Drake yelled at Amanda, tugging her arm to the right, towards the nearby shelter of the forests on the other side of the fence that separated it from the road. He scooped Jimmy up into his arms simultaneously.

Amanda followed his lead, cringing at the sound of rapid gunfire as the soldiers opened fire. The popping sound of the guns was accompanied by the gut-wrenching sound of metal on flesh, as bullets sliced through the approaching Feeders, the mindless roar of the approaching infected, and the screams of the humans trapped in the middle as they were overpowered. She leapt over the fence, determined not to look back and see the massacre that ensued. Drake led the way down the short hill and into the protection of the trees, the pounding of his feet on the wet and muddy ground drowned out by the screaming on the road. They ran for what seemed an eternity, until they could no longer hear anything except the sound of the rain slapping the leaves of the trees above them, until their lungs burned from the effort. When they finally stopped running Amanda looked back. There was nothing to see except the trees and bushes of the Amatola, a familiar and comforting sight.

Drake had put Jimmy down now, seating him against the trunk of an ancient tree. He placed his hands on his knees, puffing from the exertion. After a moment he looked up at Amanda.

"It's either all over, or it has just begun." He gasped.

"What do you mean?"

"Those were the last of the Feeders. If the General and his men killed them all, then it's over!"

"It's not over." Amanda replied angrily, marching up to where Drake was standing. "The barrier was broken! Mashinga bribed the soldiers to leave, and he was infected! He's out there, Drake! Out in the world, heading to God knows where!"

"What?" Drake exclaimed. "Mashinga was infected? That's bad..."

"We have to find him!" Amanda said. "Before it's too late."

"Okay." Drake looked around, trying to get his bearings on their location. "I don't think we're far from Hobbiton. With any luck we'll find a vehicle that hasn't been completely vandalized yet."

"The school camp?"

"Yes." He held out his hand to her. "Come."

She gathered Jimmy to her, and then followed Drake as he headed off deeper into the forest. The rain was still pelting down, as if the heavens had decided the mountain needed cleansing, and was determined to drown it with fresh water from above. The ground under foot was slippery and muddy, made worse by the thick layer of dead leaves and fallen pine needles. They made their way slowly, down into valleys and then up again, hanging onto protruding routes and long vines to hoist themselves along. There were sections where Drake had to carry Jimmy across, a precarious task given the condition of the slippery ground, and Amanda had to hold her breath on more than one occasion. It was only a few minutes later when they reached the top of one of the inclines and Drake paused, staring down into the valley below. Amanda stopped next to him.

Below them the trees had been cleared for a few square kilometers, lush green grass covered undulating hills upon which nestled four or five bungalow type lodges in a horseshoe shape. Off to the side the dark water of a swimming pool reflected the grey sky, and near that was a small outbuilding.

"It's a garage." Drake said excitedly. "Let's get down there and have a look inside!"

They made their way down the hill, keeping an eye out for any movement from the buildings below. The camp had been home to hundreds of children over the years, a government funded operation, designed to provide the opportunity of summer holiday camping to children who were less fortunate, or who had social challenges. This was where Jimmy was supposed to have spent a week of his summer holiday. This idyllic mountain getaway, carved into the surrounding forests and mountains, a haven of fun and adventure and excitement. The exact opposite of how his holiday had eventually turned out!

Drake reached the outbuilding first, and after ensuring there was nobody else around, he examined the single garage door in the front. It was locked with a padlock. He told them to wait for him, and then headed off between the bungalows, returning a short while later with a long piece of threaded rod. He jammed it into the flimsy padlock and quickly snapped the lock open. Tossing the rod aside he gripped the door at the bottom and rolled it upwards. Seeing the untouched vehicle inside almost made Amanda shout with joy. It was an older model double-cab Toyota pick-up truck. They quickly stepped inside the garage, happy to have a reprieve from the pounding rain. Drake tried the driver's door, and it opened.

"You have to love these people." He said from inside, poking his hand out and jingling a set of keys for them to see. "Get in."

Amanda opened the rear door for Jimmy, and he clambered in. She took a seat next to Drake. He turned the key once and the engine fired to life, a healthy sounding purr!

"I can't believe we're stealing a car." Amanda said.

"I don't think it's going to be missed." Drake said, and there was sadness in that statement that pierced Amanda to the bone.

"Let's get off this damned mountain." She replied.

"Ay ay, Captain." Drake saluted, slamming the pick-up into gear and spinning out of the garage. There was a single lane gravel road that ran out of the camp and back up towards the village, and Drake followed it. It was well used, although the rain had already started washing away sections of it, and the ride was bumpy. It wasn't long before they were approaching the intersection near the main road of Hogsback, and the souring sense of foreboding returned to Amanda.

"Fuck!" Drake exclaimed, and then realizing that Jimmy was in the back seat, apologized immediately. "We're almost out of fuel. There's a petrol station on the main road, we're going to have to stop there first."

They had reached the intersection at the tarred main road by then, and Drake slowed the vehicle down, bringing it to a stop with the front wheels on the edge of the tar. Down towards the left they could see the barricade that guarded the road towards Alice, where the General and his men had made their stand against the Feeders. There was no movement at all, but the road was filled with motionless bodies. It was a nauseating sight, and Amanda told Jimmy not to look out the windows. Drake turned right and headed towards the center of the small town, pulling into the driveway of the one and only fuel station. It was also deserted, and he kept the pick-up idling as he climbed out to test the pumps. They were still working and he quickly got to work refueling the vehicle. Amanda tried the radio on the dashboard but there was only static. The signal jammers that the General had used were still active and they were only going to be able to pick up the radio channels again once they crossed the fifty kilometer threshold that it covered.

With the vehicle refueled, Drake removed the pump handle and tightened the fuel cap. He rushed back around to the driver's side and climbed in, wiping his face with his shirt. He put the pick-up into gear and started pulling away from the fuel station, but slammed on the brakes suddenly.

"What is it?" Amanda asked.

Drake did not answer, but stared out the windscreen at something in front of the vehicle. Amanda followed his gaze, gasping at the sight of the man who blocked their path. She frowned as she tried to make out his face through the rain, and it was only by the burly shape of his body, as well as the shortly trimmed hair, that she eventually recognized Van Rooyen!

### Chapter 58

He wasn't moving. He just stood there in the rain, staring them down, arms at his side. Drake switched the engine off and opened his door, but Amanda grabbed him by the arm.

"What are you doing?" she snapped.

"He's not going to move." Drake replied.

"Then run him over, goddammit!"

"Look at my face!" Drake hissed. "This is what they did to me, while my arms were tied behind my back and my feet were chained to the floor! Three of them! Van Rooyen and I have unfinished business, man to man!"

"Come on, Drake! This is not the time for macho games! We need to get out of here! Now!"

"And we will." Drake said calmly, stepping out of the pick-up. "In a minute."

He slammed the door and approached Van Rooyen. When he had come within a few feet of him he stopped, staring the man down. There was none of the dullness in Van Rooyen's eyes, which was the first sign that he hadn't been infected yet, or that perhaps he had but had not yet reached the comatose stage. Either way, he had his full senses about him, and proved this by cracking his neck to the left and then the right.

"Did you think you were just going to leave?" he asked Drake menacingly.

"Pretty much." Drake replied. "Where's your precious General?"

Van Rooyen shrugged. "He went down with his cursed ship, I guess. It's just me now."

"Ah, so you're in charge. Early promotion."

"Something like that."

Drake nodded. "Okay, so what's the deal? We need to get on that road behind you, and you need to step aside. Are we going to have a problem?"

Van Rooyen nodded. "Most definitely. You see, I can't let you leave here. What has happened here needs to stay here! The world out there can't find out about any of this. If you leave, then I have failed the General, and I can't let that happen."

"The General's fucking dead!" Drake said. "Nobody cares anymore! This will all come out eventually anyway! What were you planning to do? Bury seven hundred bodies by yourself and then burn the town to the ground and go home to your wife?"

"No." Van Rooyen shook his head. "I can't go home. Not now. It's too late. I'm infected and it's only a matter of time."

"We can help you." Drake replied. "There is an antidote for this. Come with us."

"Too risky."

"The threat is already out there." Drake said. "Your precious Mr. Mashinga from the DOH has already crossed the barrier. He's infected too."

"You're lying!" For the first time Drake saw uncertainty in Van Rooyen's eyes.

"It's the truth." Drake said. "The General's plan failed. Face the facts, man!"

"It doesn't matter anyway. The strike has already been ordered."

"What strike?"

"A chemical strike. It will seal this place up forever."

"You're purging? Serious? Then you leave me no choice." Drake said. "I have a woman and a child in that car that is depending on me to get them home. I plan on doing just that."

"And you leave me no choice either."

The two men stared at each other for a moment; both realizing that neither of them was going to back down and that ultimately only one would walk away from this. Drake clenched his fists at his side, ready to take on the man who had tortured him so violently over the past few days, determined to prove to himself and the woman he had started falling in love with that he was capable of fulfilling his promise to them.

The gunshots to his left startled him, and for a moment he thought they had been tricked by the General or his men, but when he turned, surprised, he saw that it was Amanda. She was holding a pistol, the one she had taken from Mashinga, the barrel now smoking in the rain. He looked back at Van Rooyen just in time to see him collapse face forward, three red stains forming on the front of his military brown vest.

"Problem solved. Can we go now?" Amanda asked, tossing the gun to Drake, who fumbled it before managing to catch it. She turned and walked back to the pick-up, and for a moment Drake was unsure of what to do. He glanced once more over at the dead body of Van Rooyen, then down at the gun in his hands, before turning and climbing into the driver's seat again. He started the engine and looked over at her.

"I had this." He said.

"So did I."

He shook his head, chuckling, as he accelerated past Van Rooyen's body and out onto the main road. He did not slow down as he approached the mass of bodies and the yellow barriers that blocked the road, driving over and through them. The squelching of flesh and bones beneath the tires of the pick-up were drowned by the whine of the engine as he slammed into the nearest barrier, sending it spinning through the air and onto the side of the road, and then they were through and headed down the winding road that was Hogsback Pass – the road that would lead them back to Alice, and from there back to East London – back home! They drove in silence for a while, listening to the distant background static of the radio as it searched for stations. Amanda placed her hand on his leg, and he placed his hand over hers.

"Mom?"

Amanda turned to look at her son in the backseat, where he sat staring out the window at the passing majesty of the mountains.

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"Why does the world have bad people in it? You know, like my dad, and the men who tried to hurt us?"

Amanda smiled. "That's a good question. I guess it's so we can appreciate the good people, when we meet them."

She squeezed Drake's leg, and he smiled at her. Less than a week ago he had been a stranger to them. She tried to calculate the odds of them ever having met had the bad things in her life never happened. If Geoff had been a better husband and father, if she had chosen a different school for Jimmy, if she had never sent him on this camp or ignored Mr. Hale's advice. Out of everything negative, the one positive had been that she had met this man, a man who had put aside his own life to become a part of theirs, who had risked death to protect them. It seemed impossible to fathom, all the tiny factors that could have altered the course of their lives completely and led them on different paths. She had always believed that everything happened for a reason, and now she was convinced! Drake was the reason her son was still alive. She would never forget that, and someday she would be able to say the words that she had once sworn she would never say again, as impossible as it had seemed.

"Hey Jimmy." Drake said, peering into the rearview mirror. "Do you enjoy video games?"

"Do bears crap in the woods?" Jimmy asked in return, and both Amanda and Drake laughed.

"Where did you get that phrase from?" Amanda asked, but decided not to press the boy when she noticed the sad expression on his face.

"Anyway." Drake continued. "I have a mean setup, man! Forty-two inch plasma television, surround sound speakers, full internet connection. I'd love to take you on some time. What's your favorite game?"

"GTA." Jimmy replied.

"Mine too!" Drake chuckled. "I reckon I could kick your ass."

Jimmy laughed, and Amanda realized it had been the first time she had heard him laughing in a very long time! It was such a perfect sound, angelic and sweet, and it managed to fill her heart to bursting point! She turned to look at her son, who was now smiling as he stared out the window. She had never imagined she could ever love somebody as much as she loved this little person, and seeing him happy again was the most beautiful thing in the world! She was about to tell him that when there was a sudden screech of tires, an ear-shattering bang, and then everything went black!

### Chapter 59

Amanda tried opening her eyes, but for some reason she couldn't! Her eyelids seemed glued together, and it took several attempts before she finally managed to get them open just wide enough to make out her surroundings. She rubbed her face with her hands, and it felt warm and wet. It was only when she managed to clear her vision and look down at her hands that she realized they were covered in blood! Her own, it seemed. She shook off the drowsiness that seemed to have enveloped her, trying to ignore the pounding headache she had now developed. Sounds were becoming clearer now, as if a veil had been lifted slowly from her eardrums, and she felt them physically pop before she could finally hear again. There was an annoying blaring sound, which only made her headache worse! She looked across to her right, and immediately recalled what had happened, the realization coming back and slamming her with full force!

Drake was slumped over the steering wheel of the stolen Toyota Hi-Lux, the weight of his body pressing down on the horn and causing the annoying never ending sound she was hearing. They had been in an accident, had hit something, an object in the road, and she must have been knocked out!

Oh my God! Jimmy!

He had been in the backseat, and she tried to turn to see him, but the safety belt wouldn't let her move. She fumbled frantically for the release clip, her fingers trembling, and finally found it. She peered into the rear compartment of the double cab pickup, trying to see any sign of her son! It appeared to be empty, but then she caught a glimpse of a tiny white hand protruding between the two front seats. She grabbed it, her heart beating out of her chest, and was immediately relieved to find it was warm! She gave it a quick tug.

"Jimmy, baby! It's Mommy. Are you okay, honey?"

The little fingers moved briefly, and then Jimmy's face appeared from behind her seat, looking groggy, eyes wet, cheek slightly bruised. He looked up at her, and a slight frown developed on his forehead.

"Mommy. You're bleeding!"

Amanda laughed painfully, almost choking with happiness at the sight of her son, still alive and as usual more concerned with his mother's safety than his own! "That's okay, baby. It's nothing."

She kissed Jimmy on the forehead and then turned her attention on Drake, pulling him backwards by the shoulder and as he slumped back into his seat the incessant drone of the blaring horn ceased. He was still unconscious, the steering wheel had left a huge bump on his forehead, and blood trickled lazily from a cut across his eye. She shook him roughly a few times, and by some miracle, he stirred.

"What happened..." he asked groggily, rubbing his head.

"We hit something." She said. "I'm not sure what it was..."

Drake groaned as he sat upright, trying to stare out the shattered windscreen, but in combination with the pouring rain it was impossible to see anything.

"Thank God you're okay!" Amanda sighed. "For a moment..."

Drake placed his hand around Amanda's neck and pulled her towards him, kissing her hard on the lips. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Good." Amanda whispered. "I don't want you to."

He smiled, turning towards Jimmy.

"Hey little man!" He offered his hand in a high-five gesture, and Jimmy patted it once. Drake laid his head back on the seat for a moment before winding his window down and shoving his head out into the downpour.

"Holy shit!" he muttered.

"What is it?" Amanda asked as his came back in, water running down his face and his hair drenched.

"We hit a car. It looks like a Range Rover or something!" he exclaimed. "It's just parked there in the middle of the road!"

An ice-cold sensation came over Amanda, and she grabbed Drake by the arm, squeezing tightly.

"What type of Range Rover?"

He looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I mean is it white? Government plates?"

Drake's eyes widened. "You mean..."

Amanda nodded, and Drake opened the door and stepped out into the rain towards the smashed vehicle they had hit. The sound of the downpour was a thunderous applause. He returned after a few short moments and peered into the cabin of the Hi-Lux. There was a pale concerned look on his face.

"It's definitely Mashinga's."

"Oh my God."

The infected MEC from the Department of Health who had escaped the cordoned off Isolation barrier around Hogsback had apparently not gone very far! The town of Alice must be less than a kilometer from where they were now... all those people!

"Do you think he spread it?" Drake asked concernedly.

"Get back inside!" Amanda replied. "You're going to catch your death out there."

He was completely drenched by the time he had taken his seat again. He tried desperately to start the Toyota, but the crash had killed the engine and it swung noisily, refusing to fire. They sat in silence for a few moments, Amanda taking Drake's hand in hers.

"How bad do you think this could get?" he asked concernedly.

"If Mashinga infected anyone else outside of the Isolation barrier, from what I've seen, it could be really bad. The fungus is adapting and changing each time it reaches a new generation of victims. It's spreading faster! If he has already managed to spore... I don't know what to think!"

"Hell." Drake whispered. "How many thousands of people live in Alice? There are 64 million people in this country. More than ten percent of them are in the Eastern Cape! And then there's the rest of Africa - Europe - Asia and the Americas! But I'm getting ahead of myself! A world apocalypse is a long way away! For all we know Mashinga died in the crash before he could feed. It might have started and ended back in Hogsback.

"And in case it hasn't..." Amanda reached into her pocket and pulled out the vial of antidote Professor Kearns had given her. "We still have this! Do you think we'll get to East London in time? The car is wrecked, cell phone towers are still down and we're not even sure if it's safe to step outside right now! What's the plan?"

"We'll have to do whatever it takes." Drake replied, taking the vial of antidote from her and squeezing her hand. "I'll steal another car, it doesn't matter. I promised to get you and Jimmy home safely. I won't break that-"

His words were cut off as a dark shape appeared suddenly in the window beside him, reaching in and grabbing him by the head. He yelled in surprise, but his protestations were quickly cut off as the figure jerked his head violently towards the open window. Drake beat frantically with his fists against his attacker before he was suddenly ripped out of his seat and through the window into the murky downpour outside, the vial of antidote still tightly grasped in his hand, disappearing from sight and leaving only the grey backdrop of the thundering rain in the space where he had been a moment ago!

### Chapter 60

Amanda screamed, but no sound was coming from her mouth. She was looking down at her hand, the hand that had held Drake's hands only a short while ago, frozen by fear and confusion. The taste of his lips was still on hers. She felt as if she were spiraling out of control, on a collision course with insanity. This wasn't how this was supposed to end! They might have had a chance with Drake at their side, but now he was gone and they were alone! The helpless feeling passed quickly as her survival instincts kicked in. She pushed her door open, simultaneously reaching for Jimmy where he sat on the backseat, determined not to be distracted by what had just happened to the man she had only recently realized she had started falling in love with!

"Come baby! We have to go!"

She knew that hesitating would mean certain death! Jimmy clambered over to her seat and she lifted him up and stepped outside. The rain was ice cold against her naked upper arms, and dripped down into her borrowed blouse, like frozen snakes curling around her breasts. She gasped at the initial shock of it, but the fear of death quickly overwhelmed the sensation and she found herself running to the side of the road, Jimmy held close against her body. There were shadowy figures to all sides of them, she could just catch glimpses of them through the pouring rain and accompanying mist, and as she reached the grassy hillside at the roads edge she found herself praying that they wouldn't run into one of the monsters headfirst!

Instead they found themselves up against a chest high barbed-wire fence, a divider from the road to the property of one of the local landowners, designed to keep cows or sheep in place, but for them a small symbol of protection. Motivated by the sounds of a hungry growl from behind her, she lifted Jimmy higher into the air, tossing him over the fence, and was about to follow, but a cold, scaly hand on her shoulder pulled her backwards instead! She screamed, trying to pull herself free from the grip of the monster, and as she turned she saw its face – so human, yet simultaneously so non-human! It was a strange comparison, she thought, knowing that inside that normal person there was a dark and vicious animal – mindlessly intent on ripping her throat out! He was an older African man, still dressed in the clothes he'd worn to work today, a smart pair of beige corduroy's and a blue and white check shirt. The clothes were filthy though, soaking wet from the rain and covered in the fading red of human blood and streaks of mud. His eyes seemed to draw her focus, those dead, emotionless windows that so perfectly reflected the nature of the soul behind them! The Feeder opened his mouth, wider than seemed naturally possible, baring his yellowed teeth and lunging towards her throat! Amanda raised her arm as protection, knowing it would do little good against the strength of the man, and waited for the biting to start! This was it. The end. Everything that had happened so far – all for nothing!

The bite never came. Instead there was the deafening sound of a gunshot. Amanda opened her eyes just in time to see the Feeder collapse at her feet, his head vanishing in a spray of fine red mist. The shape that stepped forward out of the rain towards her seemed familiar, but it couldn't be? Could it?

"Hey you." Drake smiled at her and held out his hand.

"Drake?" Amanda's heart was pounding so hard against her chest she thought she might explode! She couldn't believe he was still alive! Still human! She paused, leaning forward to stare into his eyes, but they were not the dead eyes of the Feeders, instead they danced with familiar beauty.

He took her into his arms and they held each other for the longest moment, excruciatingly conscious of the sensation of their bodies touching, of the warmth of each other's skin, of the beating of their hearts alongside each other. Amanda pulled away eventually, but leaned in and kissed Drake passionately. She finally came away, heart racing.

"Jimmy!" she gasped suddenly, looking around frantically.

"I'm right here, Mom." He replied from behind her, on the other side of the barbed wire fence. "You got him." He added, beaming up at Drake.

"I did." Drake said, as he ushered Amanda towards the fence and helped her over. "We should move. There are hundreds of them more even! Luckily the rain is hiding us from view, but they can sense us somehow. The gunshot didn't help either. It won't be long before more come!"

Once they were all across the fence, they headed through the light foliage up the hill, away from the car wreck and the Feeders, their feet slipping on the wet long grass. By the time they had reached the top of the hill, Amanda was out of breath and panting for air. Jimmy was panting as well, but had not once complained or tried to stop. She was so proud of this tough little man of hers! He was nothing like his deadbeat father, and never would be! Drake led them over to a small group of trees clustered together at the top of the hill, which offered a temporary reprieve from the bucketing rain. They collapsed on the ground beneath them after making sure they weren't being followed up the hill. Amanda pulled Jimmy into her arms, and held him as tightly as she could, while she stared out into the grey blanket of water to all sides, shivering violently from the cold seeping through her wet clothes. She was so tired of running! It felt as if it had been all they had done since that dreadful phone call from Jimmy a few weeks ago! It was almost Christmas Eve, and instead of a warm living room with a fireplace and a tree and Christmas lights, they were here in the middle of rural nowhere... running from possibly the most terrifying thing she could think of, so completely and utterly real, yet also so ridiculously unbelievable no matter how many times the word formed in and left her mouth! They had been given a different name, a name more believable, but there was no escaping what they really were!

Zombies!

* * *

It must have been the pure mental and physical exhaustion which caused her to doze off, because when she opened her eyes again the rain had stopped. Her clothes had started drying, and the warm African heat had permeated the ground beneath where she leaned against the tree. It was almost peaceful, and she was quite content to just sit there and stare out across the...

Jimmy!

Not having him tightly wrapped up in her arms anymore had sent her heart racing! The memories of the accident and her close encounter with the Feeder came flooding back to her, an ice cold slap in the face despite the new warmth. She had almost lost her son once before, and she would never let it happen again! She sat up abruptly, looking around for any sign of him, about to start screaming for him at the top of her lungs, before she caught a glimpse of him suddenly and could breathe again. He was a few meters away from her, standing at the peak of the small hill they were on, holding Drake's hand and looking down into the valley below. She forced herself up onto her feet and walked over to where they were, feeling the throb of aching muscles all over her body, the stinging of scratches and cuts now burning fiercely where before they had gone unnoticed. She reached the two men in her life and put her arm around Jimmy's small shoulders, smiling down at him as he looked up at her, then slipped her hand into Drake's as they stared out at the scene below them.

The late afternoon setting sun had started poking through the dissipating clouds, lacing the ground with bright patches of golden warmth, and painting a beautiful landscaping portrait of a shallow valley, mountains in the distance, a small peaceful town in the center of the valley, undulating golden hills around it; a beautiful rural scene, a work of art.

That was from afar, of course. In reality, and after a closer inspection, the mountains in the distance seemed ominous and even evil to an extent, the golden hills mimicked a natural prison wall, and the town in the center was not peaceful at all, but rather writhing with the meaningless movements of the semi-human inhabitants that now wandered its broken streets. The air was filled with thousands of tiny particles which danced in the warm sunlight. What they had feared the most had materialized. The infection had spread out of control! Thanks to a greedy and frightened politician, what should have remained wrapped up in isolation up in the mountains of Hogsback was now free and spreading... rapidly!

From their vantage point, Amanda could count at least two thousand Feeders wandering around the valley below. Two thousand! The number seemed impossible, yet there they were... in front of her own eyes, like tiny little ants below. Two thousand driven and mindless hosts, searching for the cure to their insatiable glucose thirst that only fresh and warm human blood could provide. She shuddered to think that Mashinga might be one of them! Aside from the Feeders who still moved around, there was another group of Feeders, more than she could count, scattered around in motionless heaps on top of their dead victims. They had already reached the metamorphic stage... thirst quenched, the fungus that had attached itself to the base of their brains and controlled their actions had now begun the conversion process, turning that burst of natural glucose into a reactant, killing the host and eventually forming the spore sac that would erupt from their dead heads – sending thousands of new spores into the air, to be breathed in again by a new wave of uninfected humans... and starting the cycle all over again - a never ending circle of death and rebirth, death and rebirth... until finally the planet would run out of hosts and the infection would be over. It may take five years. It may take ten. It may take only months or weeks at the rate it was happening now... all of this from one single infected person!

"They're just sick, Mommy."

Amanda frowned and looked down at her son. His words hung in the air and mingled with the faintest scent of lavender.

Sick.

Where she saw monsters and bloodsucking killers, he saw sick people! Sick _humans_. His empathy amazed her.

"I lost the antidote." Drake said solemnly, squeezing her hand gently. "When the Feeder grabbed me through the window... it fell and broke. You know what that means, right?"

Amanda nodded. Jimmy, it appeared, held the key to curing the apocalypse that was beginning so rapidly below. His blood was the only sure thing standing between a dead planet and a saved one. At twelve years old he had been tasked with the responsibility of ensuring the survival of the human species. As his adult parent, she had the responsibility of ensuring he succeeded!

Looking out across the valley to the east, towards where the setting sun behind them painted an orange path across the African continent, across mountains, valleys and rivers towards the distant and unseen Indian Ocean, Amanda Hoyer could almost picture being back in her home city of East London. Four hundred thousand souls lived and breathed there, going about their daily tasks, completely unaware of the scourge that would soon reach them. Four hundred thousand lives in their hands and one hundred and thirty Feeder-infested kilometers between them, it seemed. And somewhere within that city of hers there was an unknown man in a laboratory, waiting to meet a young boy, ready to mass-produce the only possible antidote to the desolation that threatened to come.

But only if they could get there in time!

And only if they kept Jimmy alive!

There was a broken fence pole sticking out of the ground in front of her, a remnant of an old farm boundary, still tightly wrapped at the bottom with a tangle of barbed wire. She let go of Drake's hand and placed it instead on the shaft of the pole, wrapping her fingers tightly around the middle, and then yanking it out of the soft ground and holding it at her side the way a Xhosa warrior would hold a jagged spear before entering his final battle. In the town below there would be vehicles. A vehicle meant they stood a chance!

This was her life now; protector of her son, and now also the fragile human race, it appeared. A far cry from the mundane world of managing the debtor's book for a puzzle and toy store! This life came without the benefits of pension or medical aid or weekend's off. It came with a fearless disregard for the necessary spilling of blood. That old life was over. That weak woman was dead and buried, possibly forever.

It was late December, a date that would most likely be remembered forever in South African history, but even now it seemed irrelevant?

Days, months, years, _time_... what point did they serve if they failed!

This December could very well be the last one they ever witnessed. The fate of any future at all rested purely on her ability to keep herself and Jimmy alive, with Drake's help!

She felt a tug on her arm, and looked down at the face of her beautiful son.

"It's okay Mommy" he said, frowning up at her seriously, an intensity in his deep blue eyes that was way beyond his years. "We can make them better."

She swallowed back tears of pride at the painful lump that had formed in her throat.

She nodded, smiling. "Yes, Jimmy. Yes we can!"

"Nothing was ever achieved by standing still." Drake said beside her, slipping Mashinga's pistol out of the back of his pants and holding it by his side.

Amanda closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply. The African air smelled so sweet! When she eventually opened them again, staring down into the valley below, at the town crawling with Feeders, in the heat of this dying December she began to realize not only how monumental the task ahead was going to be, but also that she was strangely completely unafraid, and that this new courage, courage that she had absorbed from her young son, not only comforted her, but also, in some strange way, seemed to complete her. She had been born for this. Protecting Jimmy was her reason for living now. Every bad thing that had ever happened to them, from Jimmy's violent father to the trauma and stress of their recent days in the beautiful and deadly forests of the Amatola, had all been in preparation of this moment, right here and right now!

Silhouetted like three majestic warriors against the backdrop of the darkening and peaceful African sky, Amanda held her son's hand firmly in hers. After a moment she tightened her grip on the makeshift club in her other hand and glanced briefly at Drake, who nodded in silent agreement, before she stepped forward towards the growing number of Feeders below, lost souls that waited hungrily between them and a distant home.

### Chapter 61

The door of the cab opened before the driver had even completely stopped the vehicle, and a delicate foot emerged from the rear passenger door. She was wearing Jimmy Choo knock-off red stiletto's which click-clacked as she crossed the busy pavement towards the revolving doors, where she was greeted pleasantly by the well dressed doorman. She recognized his face, as he had greeted her at least a hundred times in the past, but she had not once taken the time to even glance down and notice that the name on his name badge was Ricardo, and today would be no exception. She walked past him, acknowledging his presence with only a short grunt, before entering the building and heading straight for the bank of elevators on the far side of the marbled foyer. A security guard pressed the button to the elevators for her as she approached, and one of the set of doors slid open immediately, allowing her to enter and avoid an uncomfortable wait where small talk would be required.

She pressed the button for the twenty-second floor and then waited patiently for the doors to close. Soft classical music was floating down from the small speakers in the ceiling of the elevator, and she tapped her foot slowly to it, staring straight ahead at her distorted reflection in the silver panels of the inside doors. The red digital display above the doors indicated that the elevator was ascending quickly, rushing through floors one to seventeen in a flash, before slowing down subtly until a pleasant pinging sound announced her arrival on floor twenty-two and the doors slid open again. She stepped out onto a beige carpeted floor, turning left and heading down the quiet hallway, the clacking of her heels now muffled and distant. Her legs were shapely, disappearing enticingly beneath the hem of her knee-length black skirt. She paused at a dark brown and heavy-looking door, the number 227 in brightly polished bronze neatly displayed on it. She raised her finely manicured hands and knocked gently once, twice.

When there was no response, she knocked again, a bit harder this time, being careful not to bruise her delicate knuckles. Irritated that there was still no response, she tried the handle, surprised to find the door unlocked. The room behind the door was dark and smelled as if a dog had been left unattended there for a few days. She scrunched up her nose and entered, shaking her head.

"You know, the least you can do is open a window!" she muttered loudly, making her way down a narrow passage and into the open living area. She crossed the lush carpet in the dark to reach the ceiling-to-floor heavily lined drapes, yanking them open and allowing the late afternoon sunlight to stream through the large windows. The room was filled with tiny dust particles which danced around her, unhappy at being disturbed. There was a latch which she unclasped, and then she slid the window open, the rush of cool air immediately dispelling the stuffiness of the apartment. "Ah, that's better!"

She took a moment to stare out the window at the beautiful view. It got to her every time. Views like this came at a price tag that not many people could afford, and although she tried to keep up an air of nonchalance most of the time, even she was melted by it on occasion! The sun was setting in the distance, seeming to swirl the sky into an array of colours, from bright orange near the horizon, to a darkened azure above. Down below the lush greenery of Central Park added a pleasant contrast to the concrete and glass of the surrounding buildings.

"You haven't called me." She scolded. "It's been almost a month!" When there was no reply she sighed. "I know we've had our problems, and I'm not saying we should just forget them, but can't we at least try to?"

There was a grunted response from behind her this time, and she swallowed, pleased to know that he was listening.

"It's Christmas Eve." She sighed. "In a few days it will be a new year and I'm hoping a new beginning, at least for us. At least, that's how I'd like us to look at things. Do you agree? I mean, I know you've been busy, you must have been! You haven't contacted me once since you got back from your trip. Haven't you missed me? I've missed you, you know."

There was a shuffle of bed sheets behind her, and the creaking of a mattress spring. Footsteps approached from behind, barefoot and muffled, and she thrilled at the butterflies in her stomach.

"You really should let housekeeping in, though, you know that?" she chuckled softly. "This apartment stinks like something died in here! Have you even opened a window once? Diane and Edward have been asking about you. They're your friends, you know? Even if you didn't want to see me, you could at least still have kept in touch with them!"

The approaching footsteps stopped. She waited patiently for the touch to follow, for the familiar sensation of his hands on her shoulders, those strong and manly hands that had touched her so many times before! When nothing happened, she frowned and turned around.

The moment she saw his face she knew there was something wrong! His skin was dry and cracked, as if he had an almost extreme case of eczema spreading from his face and down his neck, disappearing below his t-shirt. There were dark stains around his mouth and over his chin. His eyes were sunken and hollow, his face pale, the flesh hanging from his body as if he had just escaped a Nazi war camp and hadn't eaten in weeks! There was a long stalk-like protrusion of dried skin coming out of the back of his head, at least ten centimeters in length, with a large bulbous mass on the top of it. The shock of seeing him like this almost made her cry out, as this was not the man she knew; at least, not in any way that she remembered him! This was not a man!

"Oh my...!" she whispered. "What's wrong with you, Mark?"

He growled.

For a moment she thought she'd misheard him, but as the undulating low throaty noise persisted she realized that he was doing exactly what she had imagined! Growling, like a wild animal! His upper lip lifted slightly, and she caught a glimpse of yellowed teeth, a far cry from his once sparkling and flashy smile! The fear set in now, as she suddenly understood her predicament - trapped against the window with her only exit blocked by the man who had once been her lover, her husband and her friend.

She saw the girl then, on the floor beside the bed. Her throat had been ripped open and she was covered in dried blood, which had stained the pale blue housekeeping uniform she was wearing. She looked as if she'd been dead for a couple of days already.

"What have you done?" the woman whispered, her voice trembling as she stared into the death-like blank eyes of her ex-husband.

He launched himself forward suddenly, arms outstretched and mouth wide open, grabbing her roughly and wrapping his bony arms tightly around her body, biting viciously into her perfumed neck and covering them both in the spray of blood that followed! She tried to scream, but the surprise of it all had left her breathless, and she instead beat helplessly against his head with her clenched and petite fists, hating the sensation of his lizard-like skin against her hands! The momentum of his attack on her sent them both sprawling backwards towards the open window, and then, before she could even react, through it! As her feet left the ground and the rush of air caught them on their downward plunge, she finally took a breath and started screaming, realizing instantly that it was too late and that nothing was going to stop their terrifying plunge towards the busy sidewalks of Manhattan so far below.

Population: 1.16 million.

Minus two.

### # # #

### A Letter to my Readers

I hope you enjoyed _December Dead_! It was a lot tougher, and took a lot longer to finish than my first novel, probably because I was so worried about disappointing the fans I had earned through _The Days Beyond,_ and I found myself obsessing over every detail and even questioning the entire story when the book was already 75% complete! In the end, it is done, and ultimately I hope I have not disappointed, and that you appreciate the artistic notion of an open-ended, yet also _complete_ and, hopefully, satisfying tale, one about the eternal and mysterious conflict between nature and humanity, albeit one in which we invariably come a distant second, but also where, on the rare occasion, we actually manage to record small personal victories.

I welcome comments about my books, and you can contact me directly at 6string@webmail.co.za or feel free to post a comment on my website at http://waynerouxauthor.yolasite.com and also don't forget to review the book at any of the sites where it is available, as a review is an author's greatest thank you gift from his readers and is always highly appreciated!

You can also follow and chat with me on Twitter: @WayneRoux

Thank you for reading my imaginings and never stop believing in those dreams!

### Wayne Roux

### About the Author:

Wayne Roux was born in East London, South Africa in 1973, the second youngest of eight children. He started writing at the age of 14, but has only recently taken it up again full time. He is happily married to his wife, Joelene, and they have one daughter, Michaela. An avid poker player, music producer and writer, he has also penned the action sci fi thriller "The Days Beyond", his first novel. Wayne's motto in life is to never give up on your dreams, no matter how impossible they may seem, and he demonstrates this by continuously pursuing his own as an example to his friends and loved ones!

### Also by this author and available at Smashwords:

### The Days Beyond
