The Devil’s Kingdom

Chapter 25

Jude had whiled away the entire day just waiting to be able to escape again once nightfall came. On his return to the cage the previous night, he’d covered his tracks with great care — first making sure that no footprints were visible in the dirt outside his hut, then painstakingly filling in the hole under the wall once he was back inside, packing it with loose earth that made his escape route invisible at a glance but quicker and easier to dig back out for his next sortie.

The real test had been Promise. When the silent guard had made his appointed rounds that day, carrying the dreaded Uzi submachine gun as always, Jude had been terrified that he’d spot something was different about the hut, or the cage, or both. But Promise had carried out his mealtime and slop duties without suspecting what his prisoner had been up to. Jude pretended to have fallen into a subdued, withdrawn state, sitting cross-legged on the cage floor and staring into space, rocking mutely from side to side and not appearing to notice his visitor.

The instant Promise left, Jude was on his feet, pacing, planning, listening, waiting, fighting to contain his impatience. He’d tried to jam his head far enough through the cage bars and crane his neck to be able to see Rae’s hut through the window, but the angle was impossible.

The passing of the long hours had been brain-numbingly sluggish, though the slowness was easier to bear knowing that he had a purpose now. He’d downed his bland meals and dozed sporadically, tracked the arc of the sun by the shadows on the hut wall, and managed to bide his time without going crazy until, at last, night fell.

Jude did nothing until he was certain it must be approaching 1 a.m., when the stillness was absolute, Promise was sure to be tucked up in his hut and the compound guards were lazy with sleepiness.

Then Jude got to work. He scrambled out of the cage more methodically and efficiently than the previous night, with his bent spoon in his pocket. He hit the floor soundlessly, reached through the bars for his food dish, crept over to the patch of loose earth by the wall and began to dig. Soon he was running free in the coolness of the night, dizzy with liberation, heart thumping at the thrill of the risk and excited at the prospect of seeing Rae again. As he retraced his steps towards her hut, he came across a small object on the ground — a matchbox that one of the guards must have dropped on their rounds. He pocketed the matches and hurried on.

When he tapped softly at the bars of her window, she was waiting for him. ‘Is that you?’ came a tiny whisper from the darkness.

‘It’s me. Brought you some fish and chips. I hope you like them with salt and vinegar.’

‘You’re crazy,’ she hissed. ‘And keep your voice down!’

‘Hold on.’ Jude hunted around the bottom of her hut wall, then finding a loose spot he dug his way in. He was getting pretty good at it now. Rae gasped in amazement as he crawled inside her hut, shaking loose dirt out of his hair. ‘I can’t believe you got out.’

‘Take a good look,’ he whispered. ‘I’m real, all right.’ He pulled the matches from his pocket, struck one and held it up. The flickering flame glinted off the bars of her cage and cast their vertical shadows on the hut wall. She moved closer, clasping the bars with slender fingers, and he saw her face clearly for the first time. Her skin was the colour of dark honey in the dim light, and her long hair was so jet black that it gleamed. Jude thought she was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, but he kept that opinion to himself in case it might sound weird. ‘Where are you from?’ he whispered.

‘Chicago. But my family’s from Taiwan. Blow that match out, before they see the light!’

Jude snuffed the flame. ‘Relax. I’ll have you out of here in no time. Well, maybe not quite that fast. I don’t have much of a toolkit to get these bolts undone.’

‘What about Craig?’

‘Craig too,’ Jude whispered. ‘Do you know which hut he’s in?’

‘Two more. One’s the guard hut. The problem is that it could be either of them. If I knew where they put Craig, that would make things a lot easier.

‘We were blindfolded when they brought us here. All I know is that he’s never answered when I tried to call his name.’

Then he could be anywhere, Jude thought. Or dead. ‘We’ll find him,’ he promised, sounding as optimistic as he could. He grabbed hold of the cage bars and started scrambling up them.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Trust me, through the top is the quickest way out. You’ll need to climb up while I lift the roof. Can you manage that?’

‘I’ll try. Please hurry.’

Jude made it to the roof of the cage and crawled across it, the bars digging painfully into his knees. He could see her dark shape a few feet below him. Groping about by feel, he found the corner bolts he was looking for and took the bent spoon from his pocket. Here we go, he thought. It might take a while, but if no guards appeared and his improvised spanner managed to hold out without snapping in two, they might actually pull this off.

Rae moved directly below where he was spread out on the cage roof, and drew herself up as close to him as possible so they could talk. ‘Try not to make so much noise,’ she chided him as he worked.

‘It’s called metal and it kind of clinks and clanks,’ he whispered back. ‘Not a lot I can do about that.’

‘I’m just worried, that’s all. So what’s your story?’

‘You really want to know?’

‘I haven’t talked to anyone in nearly ten days, except to yell at the guards. You’ve no idea how good it is to hear a friendly voice.’

Jude had the fork clamped to a bolthead and slowly twisted it, feeling it rotate. Yes! It was coming loose. ‘I don’t know exactly why I’m here,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t think they’re holding me for ransom. Who’d pay? My folks are dead anyway. I think I’m here because of my dad. They’re using him for something, and using me to keep him on the hook.’

‘I thought you said your parents were dead.’

‘They are. Well, kind of. It’s a long story.’ Jude paused. ‘What about you? You said you and this Craig guy were reporters or something.’

‘Investigative journalists. I’m kind of his assistant. Photographer, researcher, proofreader, guardian angel, dogsbody.’

‘You were here for work?’

‘Chasing a story,’ she murmured. ‘A big one. We were trying to get back to the airfield near Bukavu when they picked us up and brought us here. They took my passport, everything. They won’t have wasted any time finding out who my family is and extorting money out of them.’

‘Why, are you the president’s niece or something?’

‘Never mind that,’ she whispered back, a little testily. ‘Let’s just say that, right now, their money’s the only thing keeping me alive. Most of the folks they kidnap are poor people. When the families can’t pay any more, they just murder the victims. Khosa and his crony Masango have been running their nasty little scam for years. Anywhere but here, they’d have been banged up in jail for it long ago. But hey, this is Africa, right? Where life is cheap and nobody gives a shit.’

Jude had the first bolthead worked almost loose. He paused to let some weight off his knees. ‘You know about Khosa?’ he whispered down to her, surprised at the mention of the name.

‘Are you kidding? I’ve spent most of the last year finding out all there is to know about that bastard. He’s the reason we came to Africa.’