her shoulders, and dangled in her face. Her thin blouse was wet also
with drops fallen from the trees, and it was plastered over the
thrusting mound of her belly.
He let her come closer, enjoying the fierce thrill of having her in his
power. Drawing out the final consummation of his vengeance, hoarding
each moment of it like a miser.
When she was five paces from him he played the beam full in her face,
and he giggled.
She screamed, her whole face convulsing, and she whirled like a wild
animal and ran blindly. Twenty flying paces before she ran headlong
into the stem of a morula, tree.
She fell back, collapsing to her knees and sobbed aloud, clutching at
her bruised cheek.
Then she scrambled to her feet and stood shivering, turning her head and
cocking it for the next sound.
Silently he moved around her, drawing close and he giggled again, close
behind her.
She screamed again and ran blindly, panic-stricken, witless with terror
until an ant-bear hole caught her foot and flung her down heavily to the
ground, and she lay there sobbing.
Akkers moved leisurely and silently after her, he was enjoying himself
for the first time in two years. Like a cat he did not want to end it,
he wanted it to last a long time.
He stooped over her and whispered a filthy word, and instantly she
rolled to her feet and was up and running again, wildly, sightlessly,
through the trees. He followed her, and in his crazed mind she became a
symbol Of all the thousand animals he had hunted and killed.
David ran barefooted in the soft earth of the road. He ran without
feeling his bruised and torn skin, without feeling the pounding of his
heart nor the protest of his lungs.
As the road rounded the shoulder of the hill and dipped towards the
homestead he stopped abruptly, and stared panting at the lurid glow of
the arc lights that flood lit the grounds and garden of Jabulani. It
made no sense that the floodlights should be burnin& and David felt a
fresh flood of alarm. He sprinted on down the hill.
He ran through the empty, ransacked rooms shouting her name, but the
echoes mocked him.
When he reached the front veranda he saw something moving in the
darkness, beyond the broken screen door.
Zulu! He ran forward. Here, boy! Here, boy! Where is she? The dog
staggered up the steps towards him, his tail wagged a perfunctory
greeting, but he was obviously hurt. A heavy blow along the side of his
head had broken the jaw, or dislocated it, so that it hung lopsided and
grotesque. He was still stunned, and David knelt beside him.
Where is she, Zulu? Where is she? The dog seemed to make an effort to
gather its scattered wits. Where is she, boy? She's not in the house.
Where is she? Find her, boy, find her. He led the labrador out into
the yard, and he followed gamely as David circled the house. At the
back door Zulu picked up the scent on the fresh damp earth. He started
