The Last Elephant Keeper

Part 21

Khumo nodded thoughtfully, keeping her eyes on him. "I understand that, but it seems like a lot of money has gone into this place, but your clothes seem a little dirty to be sitting on such a couch," she observed, subtly pointing out the incongruity.

John shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his response evasive. "I can clean it, later," he replied, trying to deflect the attention away from his appearance.

Not one to back down, Khumo pressed further. "So my mother never mentioned an oasis to you?" she asked, adopting a tone that was almost like an interrogator's.

John's eyes narrowed, and Khumo could sense his frustration rising. "Why are you asking so many questions?" he snapped, his guard visibly going up. "Is there a problem?"

Remaining composed, Khumo quickly adapted her approach. "No, there's no problem," she replied calmly, concealing her concern. "I'm just curious. You know, I'm used to dealing with bandits, so I tend to be a bit suspicious of everything. I used to work as a Peacekeeper...Actually, I still am one, just on sabbatical here."

John's back softened slightly, but Khumo couldn't shake off the feeling that he was still holding back. "I understand," he said, his voice less defensive. "But you have nothing to worry about. I'm just a simple man who enjoys being a bit messy."

Despite his reassurances, Khumo's instincts were on high alert. There was something about John's behaviour that set off alarm bells in her head. She knew she had to keep her guard up and trust her intuition. After all, she had come too far to be betrayed by a stranger.

As Khumo and John were during a heated conversation, the sudden arrival of two men shattered the peaceful atmosphere of the house. The first man was tall and thin, with a sharp nose and a hawk-like gaze. The second man was burly, with a rugged appearance that hinted at a life of hardship and struggle.

Their presence sent a chill down Khumo's spine, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that their arrival was not a mere coincidence. Suspense hung thick in the air, and Khumo knew that she had to be on guard now more than ever.

His companion was shorter, but more muscular, with a scarred face that spoke of a life filled with violence. Both men seemed utterly unconcerned with fitting in with their surroundings, barging into the house with little regard for the chipped paint and peeling wallpaper.

As the two men made their way into the living room, Khumo's senses went on high alert. The shorter man carried a bloodied bag that dripped onto the porch, leaving a trail of crimson in his wake. Khumo's heart quickened, her mind racing with questions. What on earth was in that bag, and why would anyone be carrying it around like that?

John's reaction to the newcomers caught Khumo's attention. He seemed strangely calm and composed, greeting them with a nod and engaging in what appeared to be a coded conversation. There was something off about the exchange, and Khumo's intuition told her that she needed to pay close attention.

"What is this?" Khumo asked John, keeping her voice low but firm.

John hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering between the two men and Khumo. "We've had a bit of an accident," he replied, his tone guarded.

The conversation continued, but Khumo's unease only grew. Her instincts screamed at her that these men were hiding something, and she couldn't shake off the feeling that she was in a dangerous situation.

"What kind of business involves a bloodied bag?" Khumo pressed, determined to get to the truth.

The short, muscular man shot her a glare. "It's none of your concern, girl," he retorted dismissively.

Refusing to back down, Khumo stood her ground. "I'm not going anywhere until I know what's going on. I won't let anything bad happen here."

John sighed, appearing frustrated. "Fine. I'll tell you what's going on. But you have to promise not to tell anyone."

Khumo nodded, her attention fully on John. The tension in the air was palpable, and she knew that this revelation could be crucial in unraveling the mystery surrounding these men.

"We...we hunt animals," John admitted hesitantly. "But we only hunt the ones that are nearing the end of their lives. We use everything we can from the animal, and we never take more than we need. It's not ideal, but it's the only way we can survive out here."

Khumo was taken aback by John's confession. Hunting for environmental reasons was a concept she had never encountered before. Although she couldn't be sure if she believed his explanation, she decided to keep her thoughts to herself for now.

As she observed the men closely, Khumo couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. Their body language, the way they avoided eye contact and kept their distance from John, all contributed to the lingering sense of danger. She was alone with three men in a remote cabin, and a chill ran down her spine at the realization of her vulnerability.

Looking around the room, Khumo noticed the thin walls of the cabin. She was still safely away from the elephants, but the isolation made her feel exposed and trapped. Her gut told her to be cautious, to trust her instincts, but she also knew that she had to be careful not to reveal her true intentions.

She was deep in uncharted territory, and the stakes were higher than ever. Khumo's mind was a battlefield of uncertainty, and she couldn't help but wonder if she had bitten off more than she could chew. The truth eluded her like a shadow in the night, and Khumo felt like she was tiptoeing through a dangerous game, hoping to find a way out before it was too late.