Thunderbolt Wilbur Smith (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📖

As it did one of the tents in the main area came loose in a gust of wind so strong it also upturned some of the plastic furniture. A group of boys struggled with the tent, blown in on itself, in the gloom. General Sir was nowhere to be seen. He had retreated to his quarters.

Under the guise of going to help the boys secure the tent, Mo set off to prime those who’d be coming with us. Amelia, Xander and I went to General Sir’s.

His door was shut. I knocked on it and called to him, lacing my voice with worry. ‘General Sir. Amelia needs help.’

Before the door even opened Amelia doubled over between Xander and me, holding her stomach.

‘What is it?’ General Sir asked, cracking the door an inch.

‘Cramps,’ Amelia said through gritted teeth. ‘I get them sometimes.’

‘It’s a girl thing,’ added Xander.

This unnerved the General, but only momentarily. Looking Amelia up and down he said, ‘What do you expect me to do about it?’

‘Painkillers,’ Amelia hissed. Between impressive grimaces she went on: ‘Without them I’ve ended up in hospital before now. I passed out and had a sort of fit. They thought I might swallow my tongue.’

‘There is no hospital.’

‘We know!’ said Xander, sounding properly panicked. ‘If she has painkillers she won’t need to go! You must have some.’ He risked putting a hand on the door as he said this and it worked – General Sir drew it open further.

‘Oh God!’ moaned Amelia, slumping to her knees on the threshold.

Xander and I heaved her forward into the room as General Sir stepped back. His laptop was open. A football match, of all things, was playing on it, complete with tinny commentary.

As we’d planned, Amelia toppled over entirely the moment we loosened our grip on her, flopping forward at the General’s feet. She did a brilliant job of writhing around, clutching at herself. General Sir was completely distracted. Xander got between him and me for good measure, but he was transfixed by Amelia rolling around on the floor.

I snatched the padlock from the shelf inside the door and shoved it deep into my back pocket, undetected. General Sir came to his senses and fished a pack of pills out of the fridge.

‘Here,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘We don’t want you dying on us, I suppose.’

Amelia had clawed herself upright between us. Xander propped up her elbow. To my surprise she took two of the pills immediately and pocketed the pack.

Xander pointed at the laptop and said, ‘Good game?’

‘Eh?’ said General Sir, but his eyes darted back to the screen.

‘Sorry to have disturbed you,’ said Xander, though he was largely drowned out by another of Amelia’s groans. ‘We’ll take her to lie down,’ he went on. ‘Let’s hope the pills do the trick.’ He nodded at the screen again. ‘Have a good night.’

And with that we backed out of the room, still supporting Amelia between us. I had a hand on the door and pulled it firmly shut behind me as we retreated, holding my breath. If he saw the missing padlock straight away we were done for: he’d stop us in our tracks before we’d taken our first step. But he generally kept inside after dark, and in a windstorm like this he was even less likely to venture out until the morning.

By locking him in we’d buy ourselves extra time. Every minute counted. As Amelia spat the pills out in the dirt I quickly secured the padlock through the hasps on the outside of the door and locked it. Any click it made was blown away by the wind. The three of us exchanged a look of relief, then jogged back to our tent to rendezvous with Mo.

He was there already, crouched low on the blankets, wide-eyed with expectation. ‘You succeeded?’ he asked.

‘He’s locked in, yes, for now.’

‘Watching a football match,’ added Amelia. ‘With the second half still to play.’

How she’d thought to notice that while doing her dying dog routine I’ve no idea, but the thought comforted me: if General Sir was stuck into the match, it was even less likely he’d want to stretch his legs outside for now.

‘They’re all ready,’ said Mo.

‘With water?’

‘Each has a bundle or pack with a full water container and even a little food.’

‘And the bribes, did they work?’

‘Oh yes,’ he said. ‘Better than I expected.’ He looked at Amelia. ‘Your ring in particular. I even managed to get us a little extra help with that.’ A bashful smile spread across his face as he lifted a hem of the blanket at his feet. ‘Check this out!’

A revolver lay in the blanket’s folds. It was battered and ancient-looking, with a stubby black barrel that glimmered in the near dark. I picked it up. The thing was astonishingly heavy.

‘It’s Nabil’s. General Sir keeps all the guns under lock and key after nightfall. But Nabil’s had this one out for ages. We can use it on Kayd and Liban.’

‘We have a plan to deal with them, and as far as I remember it doesn’t involve us actually shooting anyone,’ said Xander tentatively.

Amelia said. ‘What’s the catch?’

‘It’s a real gun but Nabil has no bullets for it. Still, he’s not entirely sure Kayd and Liban know that.’

‘Not entirely sure,’ I murmured.

Xander, relieved we weren’t about to murder anyone, now backed Mo up. ‘It can only help, I suppose,’ he said.

‘Unless it makes us cocky, and Kayd and Liban do know it’s out of ammo,’ said Amelia.

She was right, of course, but to boost our morale I said, ‘Fair point, we shouldn’t get overconfident.’ I took a deep breath. ‘Let’s get on with it!’

47.

Working swiftly in the gloom we dismantled our tent. Not to take with us, just so that we could harvest its guy ropes and poles. Though the wind yanked the tent around as we worked, the ropes untied easily enough. The plan had been to use the poles as weapons. They were heavy and sharp-tipped,