Fire on the horizon, p.28
Fire on the Horizon, page 28
‘Ryder,’ she called him.
He turned instantly. She was standing by the tin bath, naked, shaking down her hair. He could see every detail of her firm body in the firelight.
Under his gaze, she stepped into the bath. He watched as she ducked under the water, then emerged, gasping, pushing back her hair, and began to soap down her skin.
‘Don’t hate our son. He came from you and me.’
Finishing his whisky, Ryder set down his glass and knelt beside the bath, gently pulling her face into his hands and kissing her, running his hand down her flank under the warm water. ‘Perhaps,’ he said softly, ‘you could make me think of something else.’
She smiled and put the sponge into his hand, then turned over in the water and looked at him over her shoulder.
‘Could you soap my back for me, perhaps?’
He let the water, turned golden by the firelight, drip onto the pale skin of her back, then down across the generous curve of her backside. She wriggled slightly, and he ran the sponge down the back of her thighs, then pushed them slightly apart. With his other hand he reached into the warm water and cupped the swell of her breast. She gasped, arching her back. He let the sponge go and explored the soft secrets of her with his fingers.
When he felt her body begin to tremble, Ryder lifted Saffron out of the water, wrapped her in a bath towel and carried her to the bed.
• • •
L
eon and Tau found delivering the letters in the quiet and sombre city of Pretoria proved profitable. Grateful mothers and wives fed the messengers and shook coins out of their housekeeping tins in gratitude. The women were surprisingly indulgent of the boys’ ambition to reach Mafeking, and happy to give detailed and conflicting advice about which route to take. The last letter that they had to deliver took them south of the city, towards Johannesburg. They had been told that the road east from that brash new city, built on the gold of the Witwatersrand, was the best route to their final destination, so they hitched a ride with a native man driving his master’s wagon, full of meal and coffee, out of Pretoria to his trading station on the edge of the mining district.
The grateful mother who received their final letter offered Leon and Tau a bed in the barn for the night. Leon was tempted, but the sun was still high, and, having been fed and watered by the matrons of Pretoria, he was keen to get closer to his goal. The housewife accepted his refusal and packed their rucksacks with droëwors and bags of rusks. The road east led them through the Witwatersrand itself. Leon climbed a mountain of earth and rock to stare across a landscape of machinery, mud tracks, and great wooden and iron towers. The lengthening shadows of the afternoon gave the tall pumping towers straddling the broken earth the look of thin-limbed monsters, but everything was still, none of the wheels turned, and silence thickened air. Piles of earth reared up around deep craters in the ground, signs of the works of man, but the men themselves were gone.
Tau joined him and looked around.
‘I do not like this place,’ he said. ‘The world is not supposed to be this way.’
‘The men are all at war or evacuated, I suppose,’ Leon said. ‘What a sight it must be when they are all at work!’
He was imagining the wheels in motion, the clatter of hammers and stamping mills, and the steady stream of gold emerging from the dirt and mayhem.
‘It is a dead place,’ Tau said. ‘I do not want to stay here.’
Something about the shadows and strangeness frightened Leon, too, but Tau’s obvious distaste for it annoyed him.
‘Don’t be stupid. I bet they left all sorts of interesting things lying around.’
‘You are looking for gold?’ Tau’s voice was full of disapproval.
‘All the gold on the surface has gone now,’ Leon said. ‘That’s why they’ve had to build these shafts to go deeper into the earth. I mean, I bet some of these sheds have stores in them, and maybe tools or things that might be useful. We have no more letters to deliver, so if we can get extra food now, we should.’
‘What need do we have for shovels?’ Tau said. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. ‘I think they left the guard dogs here,’ Tau continued. ‘They will probably be very angry and fierce.’
Leon launched himself down the rocky slope. He wanted to explore for the pleasure of it, and if he listened any more, Tau would dissuade him. He scrambled down to the bottom of the spoil heap and looked about for a promising place to start. Tau called, a silhouette on the top of the artificial hill.
‘What about the dogs?’
‘I can’t see any dogs,’ Leon said and settled the backpack over his shoulders.
A two-storey stone building formed one side of the large dirt square on which he found himself, and opposite it were a number of single-storey wooden buildings, the sort of place mine workers might keep useful things like lanterns and kettles and stoves and tins of biscuits and tea. He set off towards them without looking back, hearing the rattle of stones and earth as Tau slid down the slope behind him.
The first shed was bolted, but the second had a window set in its side and seemed larger. Leon hurled a stone against the glass and felt a thrill as it shattered. Tau ambled across to him.
‘Give me a boost,’ Leon said, dropping his knapsack on the ground, and Tau formed his hands into a step. Leon knocked out the glass in the bottom of the frame and tumbled through the dark mouth of the window.
Tau heard a thump and a curse.
‘Leon?’
His blond head popped up over the edge of the window frame.
‘I’ve found stuff in here!’
His head disappeared and Tau waited. The mining machines seemed to grow more threatening with every moment and he wondered if they’d find enough loose wood to make a fire tonight. In the distance he heard something which might have been another bark. Then Leon reappeared in the window.
‘Here!’ he called, and he began to throw tins out of the shed. Catching them before they hit the ground became a game and Tau managed to get six out of seven, even though Leon threw them quite far. The boys were laughing and sweaty, the dogs forgotten.
‘There’s a lamp here, too. Shall I bring it?’
‘Yes. For trading,’ Tau answered. ‘Can you open the door? Perhaps we can sleep inside tonight.’
Leon was already clambering out, but he hesitated.
‘Do you want a pick-axe?’
‘I do not.’
Leon dropped to the ground outside.
‘I don’t want to sleep in there. The door is chained and padlocked, so that means we’d only have the window to get in or out. If a guard comes we’ll be trapped like rats.’
Tau shrugged. It was a good point, but the surrounding land was grim and bare, and he knew that the escarpment would be pitch dark as soon the sun fell below the horizon.
The two boys walked towards the main building, gathering up what scraps of wood they could find on the way. One building must have been a carpenter’s workshop at some stage. In the shadows behind it they discovered an array of off-cuts, ends of planking which might catch a spark, and bags of shavings which would make tinder. Tau noticed that one old plank that he carried was stamped with a word, and as was now his habit, he tried to read it.
‘Vint-N-E-R . . .’
A side door of the building had been forced open. The offices which opened off the long central corridor had been ransacked, furniture was broken, desks overturned and papers scattered everywhere. They found a pair of heavy leather coats in one office. They were too large for the boys to take with them, but at least they would keep them warm that night.
They made a fire in the fireplace of one of the larger offices and Tau read haltingly to Leon by its light. He was still slow, but once he had got a sentence straight in his head, he would read it again in a dramatic voice which made Leon laugh. The tins were full of some sort of meat which had an oddly gritty taste, but when it was burned in the fire on the end of a toasting fork it was quite tasty, and so they went to sleep warm, with full bellies.
Leon woke in the night with a sudden sense of dread. The fire had almost burned itself out and the air was cold. He could not understand why he was afraid – everything was quiet and the heavy leather coat was keeping him warm. His brain told him to roll over and drift back to sleep, but something in his gut was sending a powerful warning. He listened; he could hear the shifting of the embers and Tau’s breathing as he slept, and something else, a click and tap on the wooden floorboards, a more ragged breathing, and a then a low growl.
‘Tau?’ Leon hissed. ‘Tau, wake up!’
Pulling himself up, he shuffled out of the coat and grabbed a shattered piece of wood, thrusting it into the embers. They flared up and he turned to face the dark room as Tau woke with a gasp. In the sudden glow Leon found himself staring into the eyes of an enormous hound. It snarled, baring long yellow teeth along its thin jaws. Leon could see its ribs as its grey barrel chest rose and fell, then it gave a single snapping bark. Flanking it were two more dogs, compact and snub-faced with wide shoulders rippling with muscle. Leon heard a rattle as one of their discarded meat tins rolled along the floor and saw another of the same sort chase the tin across the floorboards, then hold it with his forepaw and lick out the remnants with a whine and a smacking of its long tongue.
Leon grabbed his makeshift brand out of the fire and waved its smouldering end at the three dogs in front of him, sparks spraying into the darkness.
‘Get back!’ he shouted with authority, while Tau scrambled to his feet and thrust their possessions into the knapsacks. The largest dog growled and reared away. Leon felt himself being examined, studied for any sign of fear or weakness.
‘Back, I say!’ he commanded again.
The dog took a step back but continued to growl low in its throat, moving its tail stiffly from side to side, then it barked twice and began to creep forward again. Leon took his knapsack from Tau and slung it over his shoulder.
‘Do we run or fight?’ Tau said.
The dog lowered its head, its eyes never leaving Leon’s face.
‘Run. Throw the open meat tins in the corner and sprint for the door we came in. We can shut them in behind us!’
Tau scooped up the remaining empty tins.
‘Quickly, Tau.’
Leon’s torch was almost out, and the hound took another step towards them. Its coat was a mottled grey.
‘Now!’
Tau threw the tins in an arc over the heads of the dogs into the far corner of the office and they clattered and banged against the wooden boards of the floor. The lead dog turned its head, while the others bounded towards the tins with excited barks.
‘Run!’ Leon shouted, and they sprinted forward, dodging round the fallen chairs and tables. Tau reached the door first and, when Leon had tumbled out after him, tried to slam it shut. One of the overturned desks was blocking it. Leon tried to kick it away, but his foot struck the polished mahogany with no effect.
They heard a storm of angry barking and the skittering of claws on the polished floor inside the office. Tau pulled at his arm.
‘Come on, Leon!’
The corridor was only illuminated by the odd thread of moonlight that found its way through the semi-shuttered offices.
‘Which way?’ Leon shouted.
‘Forward! I don’t know!’ Tau said in a rush and they dashed on.
The corridor turned suddenly right, and Leon felt a cold pressure in his chest. This was not the way they had come. The passage ended in darkness, but Leon was certain a door somewhere must lead out into the yard. He sprinted, then slammed into an open office door. A sudden bolt of pain shot through his shoulder and arm, but as he stumbled sideways he saw a thickened sliver of moonlight down the passage to the left.
‘Tau! A door! This way!’ he shouted and the boys darted forward.
Tau reached it first and he twisted the round brass handle, his hands slippery with fear, and pushed at it with his shoulder. It opened six inches and no further.
‘Blocked!’ he gasped.
The dogs were upon them now. The lead hound bounded at Leon in a snarling leap, showing its long canines.
Leon cried out and lifted his arm to protect his face as the hound barrelled into him, knocking him to the floor, and fastened on his forearm. Leon yelled and thrashed as the teeth pierced his skin and wrenched at his flesh. The dog’s breath was rank in his nostrils, sweet and rotten, and a wave of pain and shock washed through his body. He kicked and scrabbled, striking the dog’s flank with his free hand, another of the dogs yelping as his heavy boot found its snout, but the hound only shifted its grip and hung on more tightly.
Leon heard Tau let out a battle roar, and turned to see him with the toasting fork that they had used to cook their dinner raised above his head. He smashed it into the shoulder of the hound and its grip on Leon’s arm loosened. Leon grabbed at the flesh of the dog’s neck, and felt under its shaggy fur the smooth touch of leather, a collar. He forced his hand under it and pulled with all his strength. The animal squirmed, but held on. With a wrenching cry, fighting the agony coursing through his arm, Leon twisted the leather band. The dog released its hold on his arm, causing a new wave of pain to shoot from his wrist to his shoulder blade. Leon’s fingers lost their grip and the hound retreated into the shadows, rasping and coughing.
Tau waved the toasting fork at the two snub-nosed dogs who sent up a chorus of angry barks, but moved backwards. Leon could feel the blood running under his sleeve.
‘Take this! Keep them back!’
Tau thrust the toasting fork into Leon’s good hand, then, dropping to the ground, he reached through the narrow opening to shift the object which was blocking the door. Leon waved the fork around him in what he hoped was an intimidating way. He could feel the blood dripping over his hand and landing on the dusty floor in a steady stream. The dogs could smell it. The lead hound re-emerged from the shadows and stared at Leon with hatred. The other dogs’ barks grew louder and more impatient, and the lead hound began to sink onto its haunches. Leon’s good arm was feeling heavy. He tried to shout to Tau, but his words came in a whisper.
‘The door is moving! Leon!’
Tau’s enthusiasm gave Leon hope.
Tau gave a yell of triumph and forced the door open another few inches as Leon fell against it. The fork slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor.
The hound bounded forward again. Leon grabbed at the toasting fork and managed to lift it as the dog jumped. The dull prongs caught the beast below the breastbone and with a yelp it fell, then turned and shrank down on its haunches to pounce again.
Leon felt icy cold. He could not move, he was losing blood too fast.
‘Good doggy,’ he said with a slight slur.
Then Tau’s arm was around his chest and he was being dragged somewhere. He found himself pulled and pushed out into the night air where he sprawled awkwardly onto his hands. A great roar of agony ran up his injured arm and it collapsed; his face stung as it hit the gravel, and he tasted dust and rock. Behind him he heard Tau shouting as his friend pushed the door closed and kicked loose stones against it. A black muzzle snuffled at the edge, licking saliva from its jaws, struggling to make the gap wider.
Tau tried to pull Leon to his feet.
‘Leon, come. We must get away. They will find another door.’
The world seemed far away and fuzzy to Leon, like a dream he was trying to remember rather than real life, and the darkness seemed to ripple and shift in front of him.
‘I’ll stay here,’ he said. It was fascinating watching the blood drip from his arm into the dust.
He felt Tau’s shoulders under his arm and thought it was comfortable to be held up.
‘Come, Leon, we must walk.’
Leon didn’t see the need, but Tau seemed insistent. Walking was much more laborious than he remembered, his feet were heavy and he could not feel where he was stepping.
‘Come, Leon, I see a light! Come on, Leon, you can do it. Last push, my friend. We came this far. Let’s move!’
Leon lifted his head and thought that the light Tau had seen was too far away. They should rather sit down and rest for a bit. He wasn’t cold anymore, so why did they need to hurry inside – it made no sense.
‘Come now, or your father will catch you and make you do sums!’ Tau shouted in his ear.
That didn’t seem fair, but it did make Leon move faster through the swimming darkness and over the rough rising ground. He heard barking behind them and it did not sound like it was coming from inside the building anymore. Tau was dragging him along and calling out to someone else. Leon wondered if his father had found them and how furious he would be, then he heard the dogs again, their paws scrabbling on loose stone, and the memory of the dog’s stinking breath made him want to vomit. He was being pushed upwards and found his feet were on the rungs of a ladder, someone else was pulling him, and Tau was shouting. The barking and growling was closer now. He felt someone grab his good arm and he fell upwards, his feet slow and clumsy on the rungs, Tau pushing him ferociously. Leon was aware of a barking dog close to him, the stink of rotten meat, then a sharp clatter of a trapdoor being dropped into place. He was somewhere warm and light, so he decided he would sleep, let Tau call his father if he wanted.
• • •
T
he pain in his arm woke Leon eventually; he felt weak and sick. Tau had covered him with his blanket and he peered out from under it at what seemed to be a wooden hut. He lifted himself onto his uninjured elbow and saw the back of the chamber was full of metal levers and dials, like the inside of a steam ship. It must be one of the rooms from which the great water pumps were operated, which made the mines safe to use for the men who dug the gold. An unglazed window, the shutters swung back, flooded the room with light and it was already hot. Leon steeled himself to look at his injured arm – nausea rising inside him at the thought of what he might see – but when he finally gathered his courage and looked down, he found that his shirtsleeve had been torn away and although his arm was rusty with dried blood and filth, the wound had been bandaged, and the bandage looked reasonably clean.
