Chris Ryan - Outbreak

The riverside was covered with smooth pebbles that crunched lightly underfoot as they made their way towards the animals that were still drinking by the water's edge. Ben's eyes kept flicking to the river to check for sudden movements, but he was also becoming increasingly intrigued by these horse-like animals. The closer he got, the more he realized they were not like anything he had ever seen. They were shorter in length than horses, squatter, and their backs arched upwards to make them look more like miniature giraffes than anything else. They were brown in colour, all apart from their legs, which had the characteristic black and white markings of the zebra. 'What are they?' Ben asked hoarsely.

'Okapi,' Halima replied, a mysterious smile on her face.

'What?'

'Okapi. It is rare to see them. Very rare. The men hunted them for bushmeat, and now there are very few left. But if they are drinking here, it is more likely to be safe for us.'

They approached the okapi tentatively. There were eight of them, standing in pairs. Insects, unrecognizable to Ben, were buzzing around their heads, but it seemed not to worry them. As Ben and Halima came nearer, a couple of them stopped drinking and looked in their direction, inclining their heads slightly and displaying no fear. Clearly they were as unused to humans and the harm they could cause as humans were to them. Ben and Halima stood quietly, waiting for the animals to become accustomed to their presence, which they soon did, bending down once more to continue drinking. Halima nodded at Ben. 'You sure the crocs won't attack us here?' he asked her.

Halima shrugged. 'Nothing is sure,' she said.

Typical Halima, Ben thought. But his throat hurt from dryness and his whole body was screaming at him to drink, so he and Halima took their places by the waterside to begin slaking their desperate thirst.

Ben cupped his hands and nervously dipped them into the water; it was cool and clear, and when he took his first gulps he could feel his body absorbing the precious liquid like a piece of blotting paper dipped into a bottle of ink. After that first taste, nothing could stop him and he abandoned caution as he drank deeply. It took at least ten handfuls of water before his thirst even began to be slaked, and he continued drinking for a long time after that, knowing full well that it could be some time before they found drinkable water again, and silently cursing that they had no means of carrying any with them.

When he could physically drink no more, he stood back from the river bank. The okapi had wandered further down, and Halima was sitting on a boulder, her face and hair wet, her eyes lingering on Ben. It struck him for the first time how pretty she was. 'Best drink I ever had.' Ben smiled at her.

Halima looked slightly bashful.

'I'm starving now, though,' he continued. 'Perhaps we could try and catch some fish?'

Halima's face became serious once more. 'I'm hungry too, Ben. Some fish would be good, and I know of berries we could collect; if we crush them and sprinkle them on the surface of the water, they will make oxygen and attract the fish. But I don't think we should risk it. I think we should get away from the river now. Crocodiles are not the only dangerous things that live here. And I have seen people being carried away just by the current near the village.'

Ben raised an eyebrow. 'You mean the river passes by where we're headed?'

'Of course. It is where the village gets its water.'

'Then why don't we just follow the bank? I know it probably meanders a bit, but wouldn't that be safer than risking losing our sense of direction in the rainforest?'

'No,' Halima replied shortly. 'I do not think that would be a good idea.'

'Why not?' Ben started to feel a sudden anger rising in him. Why was it that every time he suggested something, Halima shot it down in flames?

'Because I know the path the river takes, and our journey will be twice as long if we follow it.'

'But-'

'And because the rains are coming soon. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow. When they come, we do not want to be near the river. It will flood, and we will be carried away with it.'

Ben fell silent.

'Ben' – Halima looked honestly into his face – 'I am not at home here. But I think perhaps I know the ways of the forest better than you, and I know what it will be like when the rain falls. You have to trust me.'

She lowered her eyelashes a little. 'If it were not for you, I would be dead. I understand that. But we have to get away from the river. It attracts all kinds of animals, not just peaceful ones like these okapi.'

Ben knew she was right. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'Come on, let's keep moving. We can't waste time getting back to the village.'

And so, slightly regretfully, they plunged back under the canopy of the forest and continued in what they hoped was an easterly direction.

The afternoon wore on, and Ben soon forgot the delicious sensation of not being thirsty as his mouth started to dehydrate once more. And as time passed, the sense of panic he had felt as soon as they had entered the forest started to increase. It didn't take much soul-searching for him to realize what was causing it. Darkness was approaching once more, and he did not relish having to spend another night in the pitch blackness.

Halima seemed to be more on edge too. 'Won't be long till dark,' Ben said to her, wondering if she was feeling nervous for the same reason.

She barely responded.

'What's the matter?' Ben asked.

Halima stopped. 'You will think I'm foolish.'

'No I won't,' Ben urged, unsure what she meant. 'I promise.'

Halima looked around her. 'If we are where I think we are, we will soon be entering areas sacred to the ancestors.' The noise of the forest seem to subside a bit as she spoke. 'They say it is haunted. I am afraid to spend the night here, but we have no other choice.'

Ben felt a coolness down his back, and he took Halima by the hand. 'We'll be all right,' he told her with a confidence he did not fully feel. 'We've been OK so far, haven't we?'

Halima smiled weakly, and it was obvious she was putting a brave face on her worries. They stood hand in hand in silence for a moment, each trying to derive some comfort from the presence of the other.

Suddenly there was a scream.

It was the scream of a man, and it was not far away.

Ben and Halima crouched down by the nearest tree. 'What was that?' Halima whispered, her voice wavering.

Ben was lost in thought. The gunshot earlier, now a scream. This was not a populated area – it could only be one of Suliman's men, and from what they had heard, it meant that they must be incredibly close. Every instinct howled at him to stay still, hidden; but perhaps there was another way. Perhaps that scream meant that one of them at least had met some misfortune. If that was the case, they might be able to take one of the Kalashnikovs. He understood what Halima had meant about respecting the jungle, but he would feel a lot safer with a gun in his fist. 'Wait here,' he whispered to Halima. 'I'm going to go and see what it was.'

'I don't want to stay by myself,' Halima breathed. 'I'm coming with you.'

As silently as they could, they set off in what they thought was the direction of the scream.

It only took a minute to discover what was going on. Hiding behind a lush thicket, they saw a clearing in the middle of which was a tall rubber tree. Daubed on the tree in orange dye was some kind of intricate symbol; and at the tree's foot, in a ramshackle pile, were the bones of an animal. In front of it, frozen with terror, was one of Suliman's men, unable to take his eyes off the symbol. His gun was strapped around his back.

Ben and Halima stayed perfectly still, scarcely daring even to breathe. As they crouched behind their camouflage, the second man – taller and with a nasty scar on his face – burst into the clearing from the other side. He spoke harshly to his accomplice in Kikongo, and the smaller man responded by pointing at the symbol and the bones.