Recoil

5

‘Mercy Flight?’

Nobody stuck around long enough to give me an answer. All I saw was terrified faces, then the backs of heads as they turned and ran. It couldn’t just have been my mad, staring eyes: it must have been the distant crackle of gunfire followed so soon by the appearance of a white man with an AK.

Scabby chickens jumped out of my way as I slid through the mud. Scared little faces peeped out from behind their mothers’ legs before they, too, disappeared into the shadow of the huts. Rain dripped off the palm trees. Unable to evaporate in this humidity, it had nowhere else to go.

The village disappeared into a long depression of mud and crushed huts. It was as if whoever had scooped out the valley had been playing about with his kitchen equipment here too. This time he’d got out his bread-knife and carved himself a slice of earth for breakfast. The ruptured fault line must have swallowed most of the village.

A few mud-covered bodies scavenged in the ruins. I got right to the far side of what was left of the shanty and didn’t see the huts that were hanging on Sam’s wall back at Erinvale. But I found what I’d come for.

A once-white tent the size of a marquee stood on a patch of open ground, wet and sagging, sides rolled up. A big red cross had been hand-painted on the roof, as if that would help them. Maybe fifty or sixty bodies lay sprawled on the dry ground inside, or sat and rocked. Old men and women, mostly, swathed in blood- and mud-stained bandages, but also some children.

Around the tent igloo-shaped shelters had been thrown together with branches and palm leaves, rice bags and plastic. One casualty had improvised himself a pair of crutches from a couple of bits of tree, and hobbled his way towards the tent.

I slid and stumbled down the hill, eyes straining for a glimpse of white amid the black. I was about sixty metres away when I finally spotted her. She was in the middle of the tent, handing out blankets from a bundle in her arms.

I felt a jolt of excitement. ‘Silky!’

A collective wail went up from the crowd of injured as I came into view. Silky hadn’t heard me and only reacted to the noise of her patients.

‘Silky!’

Heavy rain plastered my hair to my face. Another storm front was passing through.

She looked towards me, screwing up her eyes to focus on whatever was coming towards her through the wall of water.

‘It’s me! Nick!’

She stepped out on to the mud, a bewildered expression on her face. Couldn’t she hear me, or see it was me? Maybe she hadn’t recognized me with my hair flat, clothes soaked, three days’ beard and carrying a weapon. Maybe she just couldn’t process all that conflicting information. ‘Silky! It’s me!’

She stopped and stared as I stumbled the last dozen or so metres. A guy came out of the tent behind her. His long black curly hair was pulled into a ponytail. His face was covered with many more days’ growth than mine.

‘Nick?’ Silky’s jaw had dropped. She still stared, still not comprehending.

‘I was just passing. You gonna get the kettle on or what?’

I kept waiting for her face to break into a happy smile but it wasn’t happening.

‘But . . . I’ve left you a message . . .’

I stopped five or six paces away from her. This wasn’t the time for a love-in or an in-depth discussion about our future. Her eyes ran up and down the drenched figure in front of her and finally came to rest on the AK in my hands.

‘We’ll talk about that later. The LRA – they’re nearly here.’

She and her companion, who I presumed was Tim, wore matching dark green cargoes and shirts from the in-country aid-workers’ rack. He also had the top of a sat phone in his map pocket. It had the purpose-built, clear plastic cover on it. No Prudence for this boy.

He was beside her now. He was small-framed and had fine features that almost made him look delicate. ‘You’re Nick?’

She’d just said so, hadn’t she? ‘Listen in – the LRA are within spitting distance. You’d better get this lot into the mine, now.’

He made no effort to hide his disgust for the weapon and everything he presumed I stood for. His voice was very calm, however; very assured. ‘You think we don’t know what’s going on? I don’t need your warning messages, or you coming here to tell us. Look around you.’ He pointed at the people covered with dressings.

It was definitely Tim. I recognized his voice. Considering his size, he should have swapped vocal cords with Crucial. He knew the situation – so what? That wouldn’t help this lot in the tent.

‘Just tell them to get to the mine as fast as they can.’ I held out a hand for Silky. ‘Come on, we’re going.’

She hadn’t put hers out to mine. ‘Nick, I’m not going anywhere. Everyone who can run has already left. These people have been deserted. I’m not going to do that to them, or to Tim. We’ve discussed it. We’re staying here and taking our chances.’

The rain beat on the canvas like a bass drum.

‘Silky.’ I pointed to the red cross on the top of the tent. ‘You think that thing’s going to save you? This isn’t some Hollywood movie where everything works out OK and then there’s a nice sunset. You think those fuckers out there are just going to wave hello and carry on by, just because you’re patching up a few locals? They’re going to rape and kill them, then do the same to you. What the fuck do you think I’m here for? You really think I’ve come all this way for a fucking brew?’

She and Tim exchanged a glance. She might only just have arrived, but there was a real connection between them. They were old friends, I knew it. I could tell by the way they looked at each other; the fact there was no need for words.

So what? Right here and now nothing else mattered apart from getting her out of this shit-hole. It was time to calm down, try a different tack. ‘Look, come to the mine, all of you, please. The guys there will protect you. The villagers are going. You can’t stay here – it’s suicide.’

A tear fell. She was scared now. Good. I hoped she’d remember all the posters on her office wall and see I was making sense.

Tim reacted calmly but forcefully. ‘Those animals up at the mine, they’re the reason these people live in fear in the first place. They rape and destroy the land, and let these people live like this.’

The rain had become a steady drum roll on the canvas, but never quite overwhelmed the cries of pain beneath it.

Tim put a hand on her shoulder, and she reacted by leaning in to him. I tried not to let it get to me, but it did.

He turned to her. ‘Nick’s right. You go with him. You’ll be safer in the mine.’

Great. Sanity was prevailing.

I started to turn, and kept my hand stretched out behind me. ‘Let’s go.’

She didn’t take it. ‘I’m not going, Nick. I can’t.’

Fuck this. I was starting to lose patience. I spun round and took the first two steps towards her. It wasn’t like I could threaten to shoot her if she didn’t come. The only option was to drag her away.

Beyond them, in the tent, I saw a large group of kids, all huddled together under blankets. The oldest could only have been about twelve.

‘They the orphanage kids?’

Tim turned back towards them and nodded. ‘They lost their huts in the collapsed fault line and came when they heard the guns.’

‘Listen, both of you. You’ve got to bring this lot to the mine.’ I pointed at Silky. ‘Look behind you. Look at them. When the LRA turn up they won’t just kill the adults, they’ll keep those little fuckers. Tim, any girls there you don’t mind seeing raped? Any boys you don’t mind being turned into killing machines?’ I shook my head with disbelief. ‘Are you really going to let that happen? When you two are dead, but feeling all virtuous and pleased with yourselves because you’ve not moved from your posts, I’m sure these little bastards will really be singing your praises.’

Tim stared into the tent. He knew I was right.

He didn’t look back at me, just walked inside, calling to everybody in French.

Silky had her hands up to her eyes. ‘You shouldn’t have come, Nick. This just complicates things.’

Did it really? Well, things were going to become a whole lot more complicated if she wanted to hang around and cheer the LRA into town.