Thunderbolt Wilbur Smith (surface ebook reader .TXT) 📖

after all. Now we had the handgun as well. I’d picked that up and shoved it in the waistband of my jeans without Mo objecting. Once we’d gathered what we wanted we set off through the gale for the main clearing.

The idea was that those who Mo had managed to bribe – Nabil and the others – would have made themselves scarce, leaving just Kayd and Liban in their tent. Heading that way, I felt my heartbeat pulsing in my neck. If they’d got wind something was up and were prepared for us we’d have a harder time overpowering them.

The wind was hammering so noisily we didn’t need to tread softly, just jogged straight up to the tent. I wanted to pause, and if I had I bet the others would have hesitated too. But we’d been through the plan often enough and the adrenaline was pumping, so there was no point in stopping to gee ourselves up. With the gun in one hand and a tent pole in the other I speared straight in.

Their tent was bigger than ours. You could stand up in it. I’d half expected they’d be waiting for us, but they were stretched out in the gloom. Liban jumped to his feet as soon as we entered. I ran straight at him, knocked him back down and waved the gun in his face. He got the picture pretty quickly, raised his hands, said something that clearly meant, ‘Don’t shoot’.

Mo put a hand on my arm but I wasn’t about to lower the gun. He started talking to Liban, his voice a persuasive blur in my ear. I shifted my attention to Kayd. He hadn’t moved, not even to turn his head my way. It was unnerving. He looked dead. But of course he wasn’t. He was just lying there pretending to be asleep, despite the noise.

I nodded at Xander, who edged closer to Kayd, holding his tent pole like a spear. Was he going to prod him awake with it? He never got the chance. I’ve no idea how Kayd, facing the other way, sensed Xander’s approach, but as soon as the tip of Xander’s spear edged within reach Kayd whipped round, grabbed it, and jerked Xander forward in one swift movement.

Caught unawares, Xander was too slow to brace himself. He staggered forward just as Kayd erupted from the ground with a roar. In an instant Kayd had Xander by the throat. The tent-pole spear was useless to Xander at such close quarters. He dropped it.

The two boys were a similar size to look at, but although Xander is no pushover he was no match for Kayd in strength. Xander was flailing at Kayd with one hand while trying to prise the boy’s fingers from his neck with the other.

In the dusk they staggered wildly, the fabric of the tent snapping and cracking in the wind. I had to take control of the situation. I yelled, ‘Stop,’ quick-stepped towards Liban, and shoved the barrel of the pistol hard up under his chin. ‘Stop! Or else!’ I shouted at Kayd.

Either he didn’t understand, knew the gun to be empty, or simply didn’t care whether I shot Liban or not. Whatever the reason, he ignored me completely.

But he ignored everyone else – except Xander – as well. This meant he didn’t spot Amelia as she sidestepped me, swinging her tent pole like a baseball bat. The crack of it hitting Kayd’s skull cut through the wind-roar. His head jerked sideways with the blow and his knees buckled. I was amazed at Amelia’s ferocity: she followed up the first blow with a second, just as savage. It knocked Kayd onto all fours. She would have smacked him again if Xander hadn’t stepped between the two.

He hauled Kayd up onto his feet. The boy was in a daze but registered the gun now. I was pushing it so hard up under Liban’s chin that the notched barrel seemed to have disappeared into his skin. I released him, spun him round, stuck the gun between his shoulder blades and marched him out of the tent.

‘Let’s go!’ Xander hissed at Kayd.

He, Amelia and Mo drag-carried Kayd into the storm. The wind, still full of grit, whipped at us. The night sky was a moving mass, shredded clouds piling by, obscuring the stars and moonlight. Amelia had split Kayd’s head. Blood glimmered on the side of his face and neck. I almost felt sorry for him. But given the chance he’d have done worse to any of us. Loyal to General Sir, he’d certainly stop us leaving if he could. I forced Liban on at a jog, heading for the pits.

48.

I braced myself for Liban and Kayd to fight back when they cottoned on to where we were going, but it didn’t happen. We made it to the pits without either of them so much as raising their heads. Still, would they resist when we ordered them inside?

Mo had made that less likely by choosing this as the rendezvous point for those kids whom he’d persuaded to come with us. They stood like a welcoming committee as we approached, spread out in a horseshoe around the sunken cages.

There were five of these in total. Whether at Mo’s suggestion or on their own initiative, someone had already pried up two of the metal cage doors. The group closed around us as we arrived. Many hands funnelled the two enforcers into the ground.

Nobody said anything. It felt like a silent ritual, turning the tables on these bullies, putting them in their place. Somebody had put a water bottle in each hole. Once they were crouched inside Mo issued another order and two of the bigger helpers shut the cage doors.

Mo slid one of the long bolts into place. I immediately knelt to fasten the other. The bolt was stiff and crudely made, the metal rough. Still, it was inaccessible from inside, and way too strong to break. I ground it shut.