Thunderbolt Wilbur Smith (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📖

was incomplete. Specifically, part of one of the A-frame legs was missing, though it took me a while to work that out. I figured it out eventually, just as Mo, who’d wandered off when we unpacked the tent, came back. He was carrying a stick. I knew instantly why: he’d taken one look at the contents of the kit bag, identified the problem, and set off to solve it.

As we watched, he ripped strips from the end of that stick with his teeth until it was thin enough to ram into the open end of the A-frame joint. He’d even estimated the correct length of the missing pole. I stood back, noticing that he let Amelia and Xander do the easy bit: pull the canvas into place, peg it down over the groundsheet, hammer in the pegs with a rock, and tighten up the guy ropes.

When up, the tent was only slightly bent. Mo had repaired it with a stick. Yet he made nothing of it, just went off to gather up the blankets, trudged back with them, and dropped them onto the groundsheet. We stood quietly for a moment.

Then a bird sheared down. We all ducked. Eagle, kite, hawk: whatever kind of bird it was, it scythed through the air like an axe-head, only veering away at the last moment.

‘Why did it do that?’ asked Amelia.

‘Probably checking out the new real estate,’ said Xander.

‘Yeah, good job mending it,’ I said to Mo eventually.

‘No problem.’

‘Does General Sir always give out incomplete shelters?’ asked Amelia.

‘Often, yes. It’s another of his stupid tests.’

I couldn’t help admiring Mo in that moment, yet something about his easy mastery of just about everything sent a chill through me even as I tapped his closed fist with my own.

34.

We spent the next few days locked in an awful cycle: gut-busting work punctuated by bowlfuls of that terrible sludgy food – there was nothing else, so even Amelia soon caved in and ate it – and nights of poor sleep. We were filthy and exhausted and everything ached. General Sir gave us some woven mats, but they were wafer thin and spread on packed dirt so they offered no comfort. By about day six I felt like a zombie. I was so weak and tired that I could barely think straight.

‘It’s deliberate,’ I said to Xander as we trudged back from the field after another gruelling spell of stump-hacking.

He waved at the ever-present cloud of flies and said, ‘What is?’

‘This routine. It’s designed to wear us down.’

‘Break us, more like,’ said Amelia.

‘You’re right, Jack,’ Mo explained. ‘It’s what he does with all new recruits – makes everyone so tired they become, what’s the word …’

‘Compliant?’ Amelia suggested.

‘Unable to think for themselves, more likely to give in and do what they’re told.’

‘That’s what it means, more or less,’ Amelia agreed.

‘Compliant then. And less likely to run away,’ said Mo.

‘I’d have trouble running a bath,’ said Xander. ‘I’m not sure I’ve got the strength to turn on the taps.’

‘It’s the food’s fault,’ said Mo. ‘There isn’t much goodness in it.’

This made sense. The best that could be said for the sludge was that it filled a hole, but it didn’t exactly fill me with energy. With all the physical work, I’d lost weight. We all had. The dents above Amelia’s collarbones had deepened and Xander was definitely thinner in the face. General Sir was literally working us to the bone. I’d thought it best to take stock of our situation before mounting an escape, but maybe I’d made a mistake.

‘If we don’t make a run for it soon, we’ll be too weak to try,’ I said in the dark of the tent that night.

‘I wouldn’t risk it,’ Mo replied.

‘Why not?’

‘You wouldn’t be the first to attempt to get away. I’ve seen what happens when people try.’

‘What?’ Amelia asked, genuine fear in her voice.

‘General Sir makes an example,’ said Mo. ‘Anyway, if you wait it out, sooner or later he’ll get his ransom, and then he’ll free you himself. He’s making your parents sweat with this waiting, driving up his price. But he’ll want the money eventually. Just do as he says and be patient.’

‘That’s probably good advice,’ said Xander.

Deep down, I knew he was right. But still: I’d told Mum not to pay the ransom for a reason. I’d got myself into this mess. It was up to me to get myself out of it. I couldn’t just sit there waiting for help.

‘We should try at night,’ I said, as much to myself as the others. ‘Turn in as usual, then sneak off in the dark. Head south. We may not know exactly where we are but the Kenyan border can’t be that far away.’

Mo gave a little snort. ‘If it was that easy,’ he said.

‘We won’t know unless we try,’ I said. ‘If we can get far enough away before anyone notices, they’ll not be able to track us down.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it. You’ve noticed the dogs in camp?’

‘Yes. They seem harmless enough.’

‘They’re tracking dogs. They like nothing more than to chase a scent.’

Amelia piped up then with, ‘Ah, the tent.’

‘What about it?’ said Xander.

‘It smells of us.’

The penny dropped. Far from doing us a favour, by giving us a tent and blankets General Sir had impregnated them with our scent.

‘That’s right,’ said Mo. ‘We may not be caged here but the dogs are a sort of fence. You could have a whole day’s head start and it would make no difference. They’d still catch up.’

‘There’s a chance we could make it,’ I muttered. ‘And anyway, think about it, what’s the worst that could happen? You said it yourself, we’re valuable to him. If he hunts us down with the dogs, he’ll hardly let them rip us apart. He’ll just haul us back here to work and wait again.’

‘You, maybe,’ said Mo quietly. ‘It’s a chance you could take. But not me. Nobody is about to pay a ransom for me.’

Xander tried to reassure