He heard the front door close and sounds from inside. The clink of a bottle like Lotto was pouring himself a drink. Stratton went to the corner of the building, dropped to a knee and looked between the rails on to the porch. He couldn’t see any movement on the dark street. It was time to get out of there.
He turned his attention to the girl and rested his gun against the wall of the building. It was hard to tell in the poor light whether the marks on her skin were injuries or dirt. He felt her throat. Her heart was racing.
He quickly pulled off the unconscious guard’s trousers and shirt. This was not the time and place to dress her. He stood the girl up, bent down and let her fall forward over his shoulder. He stood. She was light, something he was thankful for. He grabbed the rifle off the wall and made his way uphill between the houses and away from the pirate leader’s house. The wind was strengthening. He got to the top of the town without seeing anyone. The houses stretched out to his left and right, straight ahead nothing but a black, arid wilderness.
He walked into the wasteland with the naked unconscious girl over his shoulder.
9
Stratton headed deep into the darkness, doing his best to go south. It was difficult to gauge by the stars because of the cloud cover. He had gone about a kilometre from the town when he came to a gravel road running across his front. It looked well used. He decided to follow it east. The higher ground had been in that direction as they’d approached from the sea. And he could see a few trees. Which increased the chances of finding water. He walked down the centre of the dusty road.
The girl was drifting in and out of consciousness. He had maintained a brisk pace, which couldn’t have been comfortable for her. But they needed to put as much distance as possible between them and the town. Lotto would no doubt be fuming when he found out, with Stratton as well as with his guards. To escape yet again was a slap in the face. He would not be impressed with the final body count the pirates had suffered that night either.
The track they were on appeared to head parallel with the coastline. It was a tactical risk using it because it increased the chances of meeting someone. But this was an occasion when he was willing to take the chance in favour of the ease of movement. He came to the brow of an incline and paused to catch his breath and take in the view. The girl might have been light to start with but she was getting heavier by the minute.
A large body of water stretched across the panorama in front. It wasn’t the ocean. That took up the entire horizon to his left. It was a broad river that came from the mountains in the south. But the river didn’t flow into the sea because it had been blocked by a naturally formed dam. A seasonal phenomenon. During the monsoons, when the river was in full flood, it couldn’t be stopped.
Stratton felt thirsty and hoped that the water hadn’t been invaded by too much of an ocean backwash. He set off down the incline, his neck and back aching. He was looking forward to taking a breather. He felt the girl’s muscles tense.
He stopped a few metres from the water’s edge and lowered her to the ground, placing the trousers under her head as a pillow and covered her body with the shirt to preserve her modesty. She moaned and moved her head from side to side.
He went to the water, cupped a hand and tasted a little. It was brackish but drinkable. After a couple of mouthfuls he brought some over to her and dripped it on to her forehead and across her mouth. Her eyes flickered and her breathing quickened. She licked her lips. She opened her eyes and looked at him leaning over her. She suddenly became afraid and struggled to push herself away.
‘Easy,’ Stratton said, reaching out but without touching her. ‘It’s me. You’re OK. You’re safe now.’
She stopped, her whole body tensed as she came to her senses. Her eyes darted around before finding him again. She was still scared but he was a pillar of strength in a place where they were surrounded by danger. She realised she was naked and held the shirt to her.
‘We’re out of the town,’ he said. ‘It’s just you and me. No one else.’
Her expression changed and she eased off a bit.
Stratton wondered if she remembered what had happened to her. Such a serious trauma could cause short-term amnesia.
But she suddenly remembered. The horrific memories of the past few hours flooded her mind. She fought to control an abrupt emotional reaction and rolled into a ball and began to sob.
‘You know who I am?’ he said. ‘You remember me, right? I’m Stratton.’
She calmed a little and nodded.
‘We can’t stay here long. They’ll be looking for us. We have to get further away. Do you understand?’
She didn’t acknowledge him. He wondered if she was going to make it at all. Perhaps she had become unhinged. He couldn’t help thinking about his next move if she was unable to keep going. He couldn’t leave her of course.
‘Immy?’ he said. ‘You need to get up. You can’t stay here. I can’t carry you any more. Do you understand?’
She still didn’t move.
Stratton felt suddenly tired. He had to get on. Time was running out. She had to motivate herself. It seemed like she had gone into a catatonic state. He felt his patience wearing thin. He needed to find Hopper and get out of Somalia. It looked as if he might have to do it alone.
‘Immy?’ he said. ‘I need you to wake up, right now.’
She remained motionless.
‘Immy?’ he repeated, getting to his feet and standing over her. ‘I know you don’t want to die. But if you just lie there, if you don’t get up, your life is going to come to an end very soon.
‘I’ll spell it out for you,’ he said, getting angry. ‘I can’t leave you here alive. If I did and they found you, they would eventually learn what I know, what we both know. I can’t allow that information to be compromised. They’ll move the missiles and find another way of getting them out of the country. So you see, if you don’t pull yourself together, I won’t leave you here to die. I will kill you myself.’
He held the stock of the assault rifle over her. ‘Don’t make me do this. You either get up now or it’s over. You know I’ll do it.’
He raised the weapon and aimed for her head, resigned to killing her. It seemed a terrible thing to do but the equation was simple enough. It was her or him. And she would probably die anyway, of exposure, or when she was caught.
He looked towards the beach, gauging the distance to the ships. Perhaps he could get her on board. Hopper was doomed. The girl sat up and looked towards the water, her back to him. Like she didn’t know he was there. Stratton felt relief at his own reprieve as much as hers. She got to her feet, clutching the shirt to her, and walked to the water’s edge. She walked into the water up to her waist. She started to wash herself. She took a long drink and then doused her face and her arms and shoulders gently.
She stopped what she was doing, lowered her head and began to cry again. He felt helpless and unable to offer any encouragement that might be of use to her. He decided to shut up and let her get on with it.
She didn’t spend much longer in the water. She pulled on the shirt, turned around and walked towards him. She stopped to pick up the trousers a little unsteadily, pulled them on, rolling down the waist to shorten and tighten them.
‘Sorry, no shoes,’ he said. He looked at the welts on her neck and arms. She had taken a beating. He suddenly felt impressed by her. She had suffered enormously, in a way he could never really understand, but there she was, standing before him, unsteady, yet with a determined look in her eye.