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of it was too much for Johan Akkers.
The appearance of the aircraft dead in the centre of the road, bearing
down on him with the terrible spi
much for nerves already run raw and ragged.
He wrenched the wheel hard over, and the truck went into a broadside dry
skid. It missed the port wing-tip of the Navajo as it went rocketing
off the narrow road. The front wheels caught the drainage ditch and the
truck went over, cartwheeling twice in vicious slamming revolutions that
smashed the glass from her windows and burst the doors open. The truck
ended on its side against one of the trees.
David shut the throttles and thrust his feet hard down on the wheel
brakes, bringing the Navajo up short. .
Wait here, he shouted at Debra, and jumped down into the road. His face
was a frozen mask of scar tissue, but His eyes were ablaze as he
sprinted back along the road towards the wreckage of the green truck.
Akkers saw him coming, and he dragged himself shakily to his feet. He
had been thrown clear and now he staggered to the truck. He could see
his rifle lying in the cab, and he tried to scramble up on to the body
to reach down through the open door. Blood from a deep scratch in his
forehead was ru
the back of his hand and glanced around.
David was close, hurdling the irrigation ditch and ru
Akkers scrambled down from the battered green body, and groped for the
hunting knife on his belt. It was eight inches of Sheffield steel with
a bone handle, and it had been honed to a razor edge.
He hefted it under-handed, in the classical grip of the knife-fighter
and wiped the blood from his face with the palm of his free hand.
He was crouching slightly, facing David, and the haft of the knife was
completely covered by the huge bony fist.
David stopped short of him, his eyes fastened on the knife, and Akkers
began to laugh again. It was a cracked falsetto giggle, the hysterical
laughter of a man driven to the very frontiers of sanity.
The point of the knife weaved in the slow mesmeric movement of an erect
cobra, and it caught the sunlight in bright points of light. David
watched it, circling and crouching, steeling himself, summoning all the
training of paratrooper school, screwing up his nerve to go in against
the naked steel.
Akkers feinted swiftly, leaping in, and when David broke away, he let
out a fresh burst of high laughter.
Ago in they circled, Akkers mouthing his teeth loosely, sucking at them,
gigglin& watching with those muddy green eyes from their deep, close-set
sockets.
David moved back slowly ahead of him, and Akkers drove him back against
the body of the truck, cornering him there.
He came then, flashing like the charge of a wounded leopard. His speed
and strength were shockin& and the knife hissed upwards for David's
belly.
David caught the knife hand at the wrist, blocking the thrust and
trapping the knife low down. They were chest to chest now, face to
face, like lovers, and Akkersbreath stank of unwashed teeth.
They strained silently, shifting like dancers to balance each other's
heaves and thrusts.
David felt the knife hand twisting in his grip. The man had hands and
arms like steel, he could not hold him much longer. In seconds it would
be free, and the steel would be probing into his belly.
David braced his legs and twisted sideways. The move caught Akkers
off-balance and he could not resist it.
David was able to get his other hand on to the knife arm, but even with
both hands he was hard put to hold on.
They swayed and shuffled together, panting, grunting, straining, until
they fell, still locked together, against the bo
metal was hot and smelled of oil.
David was concentrating all his strength on the knife, but he felt
Akkers free hand groping for his throat. He ducked his head down on his
shoulders, pressing his chin against his chest but the fingers were
steel hard and powerful as machinery. They probed mercilessly into his
flesh, forcing his chin up, and settling on his throat, begi
squeeze the life out of him.
Desperately David hauled at the knife arm, and found it more manageable
now that Akkers was concentrating his strength on strangling him.
The open windscreen of the truck was beside David's shoulder, the glass
had been smashed out of it, but jagged shards of it still stood in the
metal rim, forming a crude but ferocious line of saw-teeth.
David felt the fingers digging deep into his throat, crushing the
gristle of his larynx and blocking off the arteries that fed his brain.
His vision starred and then began to fade darkly, as though he were
pulling eight G's in a dogfight.
With one last explosive effort David pulled the knife arm around on to
the line of broken glass, and he dragged it down, sawing it desperately
across the edge.
Akkers screamed and his strangling grip relaxed, back and forth David
sawed the arm, slashing and ripping through skin and fat and flesh,
opening a wound like a ragged-petalled rose, hacking down into the
nerves and arteries and sinews so that the knife dropped from the
lifeless fingers and Akkers screamed like a woman.
David broke from him and shoved him away. Akkers fell to his knees
still screaming and David clutched at his own throat massaging the
bruised flesh, gasping for breath and feeling the flow of fresh blood to
his brain.
God Jesus, I'm dying. I'm bleeding to death. Oh sweet Jesus, help me!
screamed Akkers, holding the mutilated arm to his belly. Help me, oh
God, don't let me die.
Save me, Jesus, save me! Blood was streaming and spurting from the arm,
flooding the front of his trousers. As he screamed his teeth fell from
his mouth, leaving it a dark and empty cave in the palely glistening
face.
You've killed me. I'll bleed to death! he screamed at David, thrusting
his face towards David. You've got to save me, don't let me die. David
pushed himself away from the truck and took two ru
the kneeling man, then he swung his right leg and his whole body into a
flying kick that took Akkers cleanly under the chin and snapped his head
back.
He went over backwards and lay still and quiet, and David stood over
him, sobbing and gasping for breath.
For purposes of sentence Mr. justice Barnard of the Transvaal division
of the Supreme Court took into consideration four previous convictions,
two under the wildlife conservation act, one for aggravated assault, and
the fourth for assault with intent to do grievous bodily harm.
He found Johan Akkers guilty of twelve counts under the Wildlife
Conservation Act, but considered these as one when sentencing him to
three years at hard labour without option of a fine, and confiscation of
firearms and motor vehicles used in commission of these offences.
He found him guilty of one count of aggravated assault, and sentenced
him to three years at hard labour without option.
The prosecutor altered one charge from attempted murder to assault with
intent to do grievous bodily harm. He was found guilty as charged on
this count, and the sentence was five years imprisonment without option.
On the final charge of murder he was found guilty and justice Barnard
said in open court; In considering sentence of death on this charge, I