A Time to Die

He would have to let her rest very soon, and yet she had not complained, not once in all the long tortured hours since they had left the river. He gri

"Ease up, wench. We'll take ten."

When she pulled up, she was unsteady on those long legs and he arm around her shoulders to steady her. "You're a ruddy put an marvel, do you know that?" He eased her down to sit with her back against one of the lead wood trees, and unscrewed the stopper on his water bottle, and passed it to her.

"Give Mi

"Remember, ten minutes, that's all."

Alphonso had taken the break to rig the radio. Mickey was squatting on one side of him, Miriam on the other. They watched with fascination as he tuned the set and began searching the bands.

There was the crackle and buzz of static followed by some faint extraneous snatches of Afrikaans, then an excited voice speaking in Shangane, very close and loud.

"Very close now," it said, and the reply came immediately.

"Keep going hard. Push them. Don't let them escape. Call me as soon as you catch them." That voice was unmistakable, and they did not need the acknowledgement to confirm it.

"Very well, General China."

The transmission ended, and Sean and Alphonso exchanged a quick hard frown.

"Very close," said the Shangane. "We can't outrun them."

"You might be able to get away," Sean said, "on your own."

Alphonso hesitated and looked sideways at Miriam. The Shantrusting eyes, and Algane maid returned his glance with open and scratched himself with embarrassment. "I'll phonso coughed stay," he muttered.

Sean laughed bitterly and said in English, "Join the club, mate.

That little witch didn't take long to hook you. These ruddy sheilas will be the death of all of us yet, you mark my words."

Alphonso frowned. He did not understand, and Sean switched back into Shangane. "Pack up the radio. If you are going to stand with us, we'd best find good place to do it. Your dung-eating Renamo brothers A* going to be with us very soon."

Sean turned and looked across at Matatu, who was instantly on his feet.

"That was China on the radio," he told him in Swahili.

"He hisses like a cobra." Matatu nodded.

"His men are on our spoor. They boast to him that they are very close.

Are there any more tricks we can use now, old friencr"

"Fire?" Matatu suggested, but without conviction.

Sean shook his head. "The wind is against us. We'd cook ourselves if we torched the forest."

Matatu hung his head. "If we keep the women and children with us, there are no more tricks," he admitted. "We are slow, and we leave a spoor that a blind man can follow in a moonless night." He shook his small, grizzled head miserably. "The only trick we have left is to fight them, and after that we are dead, my Bwana.

"Go back, Matatu. Find how close behind us they really are. We will go ahead and find a good place to fight them." He touched the little man's shoulder, then let him go. Sean watched him disappear g the tree trunks and then deliberately altered his expression before he turned to Claudia, striking a lighter, more carefree pose and putting a lift in his tone.

"How's our patient?" he asked. "She looks pretty chirpy to me."

"The chloroquine has done wonders." Claudia bounced the child on her lap and, as if to confirm her improvement, Mi

He felt her smile tug at him with wholly unexpected poignancy.

Claudia laughed. "No female is immune to your fatal charms.

You've collected yourself another fan."

"Typical woman-all she really wants is a free ride." But he stroked the child's soft, woolly little head. "All right, sweetness, your horsey is ready to go."

Trustingly Mi

Claudia pulled herself stiffly to her feet and for a moment leaned against him. "Do you know something? You are a much nicer person than you pretend to be."

"Fooled you, didn't IT"

"I'd like to see you with a baby of your own," she whispered.

"Now you really terrify me. Let's go before you come up with any more crazy ideas like that one."

But the idea lingered with him as they ran on through the forest-a son of his own from this woman.

He had never even thought about that before, and then, as though to complement the idea, he felt a tiny hand reach across his shoulder from behind and touch his beard, stroking it as lightly as an alighting butterfly. Mi