Night Of Knives

Chapter 31

"This is crazy," Jacob mutters. "How can they possibly know we're here?"

"They must have had someone watching in Victoria Falls," Lovemore says.

Innocent says something in a husky voice.

"The train stopped at an army base, just now," Lovemore translates. "Other nights the train passes through without stopping, he has never before seen them signal for a stop. The soldiers embarked there."

"Is it so bad if the army gets us?" Jacob asks. "I mean, we're trying to save their president's life. If we can just convince them -"

"No," Lysander says. "Not just any army base. The Fifth Brigade. The same unit I'm told Gorokwe served in, during the Gukurahundi. The Matabeleland massacres."

Jacob groans. "Shit. His old army buddies. And we walked right into it."

"We have to hide," Veronica says. She looks around for a place to hide. Beneath the berths? The luggage compartment above? Both are too obvious, they'll be found in seconds. But there is nowhere else. Do they have time to flee down the corridor and try to find some hiding spot elsewhere on the train?

The question is answered before she can ask it. A metal door slams and loud voices fill the corridor outside, only two or three berths away, barking orders. The soldiers are in their car. Veronica's heart begins to pound, she feels her breath begin to quicken, her lungs seem squeezed half-shut, she feels cold, her skin feels stretched too tight - but she has now grown almost accustomed to her body's fight-or-flight reaction, and this time her mind does not shut down, she can still think clearly. She never imagined that fear for her life might grow so terribly familiar.

"Only one way out," she says quietly.

All eyes turn to the open window.

* * *

There is a little table set into the wall immediately beneath the window. Lovemore crouches on that table, facing into the car, grabs the top of the window frame, extends his head and shoulders into the night – then ducks them back in as a wooden pole goes past, less than a foot from the window. To Veronica's relief it does not go past particularly quickly. The train's locomotive is old and slow, they probably aren't moving more than twenty miles an hour. But that's plenty fast enough to break your neck if you hit the ground the wrong way.

The soldiers' voices are closer now, the next berth over. Innocent went out to try to stall them, but it doesn't sound like he's having much luck, their voices sound hostile, angry. Veronica checks to see that their door is still locked by its single metal bolt. Lovemore tries again. His hands leave the window frame and find some purchase above, his legs straighten and levitate away from the table, and then he is gone. Jacob climbs awkwardly up onto the table.

A fist hammers on their door and a voice shouts a demand.

"Hurry," Lysander says, so quietly Veronica can barely hear him.

Jacob, clumsier and less athletic than Lovemore, manages to contort himself so his gangly body extends out of the window. Then he slips, his foot gives way and he starts to fall, it seems to be happening in slow motion, Veronica's heart convulses as Jacob begins to topple away from the window– and a muscular, dark-skinned hand reaches down as if from the heavens, catches a flailing wrist, steadies him.

The soldiers at their door resume their hammering and shouting, and this time they don't stop.

"They say they're going to break it down," Lysander murmurs urgently into Veronica's ear as Jacob pulls himself or is pulled up and out of the window. "You go. I'll stay."