Pirate - Duncan Falconer [54]
He raised the weapon and aimed for her head, resigned to killing her. It seemed a terrible thing to do but the equation was simple enough. It was her or him. And she would probably die anyway, of exposure, or when she was caught.
He looked towards the beach, gauging the distance to the ships. Perhaps he could get her on board. Hopper was doomed. The girl sat up and looked towards the water, her back to him. Like she didn’t know he was there. Stratton felt relief at his own reprieve as much as hers. She got to her feet, clutching the shirt to her, and walked to the water’s edge. She walked into the water up to her waist. She started to wash herself. She took a long drink and then doused her face and her arms and shoulders gently.
She stopped what she was doing, lowered her head and began to cry again. He felt helpless and unable to offer any encouragement that might be of use to her. He decided to shut up and let her get on with it.
She didn’t spend much longer in the water. She pulled on the shirt, turned around and walked towards him. She stopped to pick up the trousers a little unsteadily, pulled them on, rolling down the waist to shorten and tighten them.
‘Sorry, no shoes,’ he said. He looked at the welts on her neck and arms. She had taken a beating. He suddenly felt impressed by her. She had suffered enormously, in a way he could never really understand, but there she was, standing before him, unsteady, yet with a determined look in her eye.
‘How do you feel?’ he asked, grasping for something to say. ‘We need to walk on.’
She looked at the ground, into the distance. Then at him.
‘I can carry you for a bit,’ he said, his guilt not fully receded.
She shook her head. ‘I can walk,’ she said, her voice shaky. She looked around again. ‘Where are we?’
‘East of the town. About six kilometres.’
‘East?’ She looked confused.
‘South a kilometre and then east.’
‘Away from the sea.’
‘That’s right.’
‘Aren’t we going to find a boat?’
‘Not yet.’
She looked at him questioningly.
‘I want you to take me to the Al-Shabaab camp,’ he said.
Her gaze remained firmly on him. She seemed to be thinking, formulating a response.
‘I have to get my friend,’ Stratton said. ‘Don’t you want to help your friend too?’
She looked away again, like the question bothered her. ‘How can we do that?’ she asked. ‘The camp will have many fighters.’
‘I have to at least try,’ he said.
‘They are not like the pirates. They are more vigilant. More dangerous.’
He looked at her, waiting for her to narrow down her options until they equalled his.
She came to a conclusion. ‘Is that why you rescued me?’
He did not need to answer her. It was obvious enough.
‘I am thankful for that,’ she decided.
‘Where is the camp?’
She considered the question for a moment before returning to the water. She crouched to fill her palms and take a drink. Stratton felt his own thirst return and followed her lead.
‘Did you see a road?’ she asked.
‘We followed it. It’s just over there, at the top of the ridge.’
‘It goes south?’
‘Looks like it.’
She looked at the lake and towards the sea, comparing it to a map inside her head. ‘The camp is south from here. Ten kilo metres from the coast.’
‘Have you been there?’
‘No.’
She sat down again. Stratton watched as she tore the bottom of both trouser legs off. But instead of throwing the cloth away, she wrapped the pieces around her feet and tied them off.
She stood up, still a little wobbly. ‘You think you can rescue your friend?’
‘I have to try,’ he said.
‘And if you cannot?’
The answer to that was obvious enough.
‘I think it’s only fair I should know the plan,’ she said.
Stratton felt like he had to accept her as something of a partner. She had earned that much. He also had an urge to trust her. She was an enemy in some ways, but she was also in the same hole he was. They were after the same thing.
‘The same idea you had. The ship we were on is going to be released. My plan is to recce the Al-Shabaab camp. Whatever happens, from there we head back to the ship. We climbed on to it once, we can