Deon Meyer - Blood Safari

‘What is the other good sign?’

‘In cases like this, we use the Glasgow coma scale. The scale runs from three, which is very bad, to fifteen, which is normal. The position of a patient on the scale is determined by their best response in the first twenty-four hours after the injury. We are not working with exact science here, but the good news is that Miss le Roux is outside the three to four zone. Currently, she is six on the scale, and we hope she will show improvement in the next twelve hours. The Glasgow scale tells us that thirty-four per cent of patients who register between five and seven will live, with or without a mild degree of handicap.’

Thirty-four per cent.

‘You can give us some information that might help us, Lemmer. How soon after her fall did you get to her?’

‘I’ll have to think about it.’

‘One minute? Two, four, five?’

I shut my eyes. I saw the sniper in the grass, the sights of the weapon tracking us, the shot inaudible over the noise of the train, only the white vapour from the barrel, like the mist on your breath on an icy morning. Emma jerking in my arms …

‘The gunshot wound, Eleanor? What about the wound?’

‘Explain the trajectory.’

‘About thirty degrees, shooting from below.’

‘That’s what saved her. The bullet missed the lungs and arteries. But the bullet wound is not our primary concern.’

How long did it take me to reach her?

How long had I waited after she fell, after the T-shirt had torn?

I was jumping again. The train on my left was a rust-brown blur, the grass, the sleepers, the gravel beside the tracks flashed past. I was suspended in air. I hit the ground. Shoulder first, a hard impact, sudden pain, face in the grass, winded, something cut my arm. I rolled over and over and then lay in the grass, looking at brown earth. How long had I lain like that? I didn’t know. How long was it before I could get up?

How far from me were the balaclavas at that stage? The motion of the train had taken us farther from them – a hundred, two hundred metres? Was it more? The sniper was the reference point. It must have been more than three hundred metres. When I saw them next, they were closing in. How long had they stood still?

‘I really don’t know,’ I said. ‘Maybe two minutes before I reached her. Though it might have been more.’

‘When you reached her, was she unconscious?’

‘I think so. Why?’

‘There is a general rule for coma patients – the shorter the time between trauma and coma, the more serious the condition.’

‘So, it’s bad news.’

‘Yes, Lemmer, it’s bad news.’

She would not allow me to see Emma. I had to wait until the next day. Her husband wanted to see me before he went home. She called him. Dr Koos came in and kissed his wife on the forehead.

‘I know what you’re thinking, pal,’ he said to me. ‘You are wondering how an ou like me could get such a sexy creature for a wife.’

‘No, Doc …’

‘Does he call you “doc” too?’ he asked his wife.

‘All the time.’

‘I’ll inject him till he stops.’

‘Thank you, darling.’

‘We have names. She’s Eleanor and I am Koos. Repeat after me …’

‘How did an ugly ou like you get a wife like that, Koos?’

‘That’s more like it. And the answer is: I have no idea. How are you feeling? Your eyes are not quite so manic, at least.’

‘He listens to me when I talk. That’s why I married him,’ she said.

‘Naaa, it’s because I’m so good at kissing, et cetera.’

‘Never mind the “et cetera”. There’s a patient present.’

‘OK, pal, you must be feeling really sore.’

‘I’ll survive.’

‘Oh, tough guy? It doesn’t work on women.’

‘Sometimes,’ she said.

‘But not as good as a perfectly performed French kiss …’

‘Koos!’

He grinned and took a plastic container of pills out of the pocket of his white coat. He put it on the table in front of me. ‘Take two tonight before you go to sleep and one after every meal from tomorrow on. It will ease the pain and help you sleep well. But no more than three per day. When you don’t hurt any more, throw the rest away.’

‘OK, Doc’

‘There we go again. He’s tough, but he’s no rocket scientist. Maybe because he’s in love. It screws up your head.’

‘You think he’s in love?’

‘Definitely.’

‘You sound better,’ said Jeanette Louw over the phone. I could hear she had a Gauloise between her lips.

‘They injected me with something. I slept for six hours.’

‘I know. I told them they’d better do something. You should have heard yourself. How is she, Lemmer?’ I told her.

‘Doesn’t sound good.’

‘I know.’

‘It’s not your fault.’

‘I’m not so sure of that.’

‘Stop shitting me. What could you have done?’

‘I should have taken the threat seriously. I should have believed her.’

‘What would you have done differently?’

I didn’t know. I didn’t want to think about it. ‘There are things I need.’

‘What?’

‘Two invisibles. A car. Money. And a firearm.’

It didn’t take her long to put two and two together. ‘You’re going after them.’

‘Yes.’

Another pause. I heard her draw on the cigarette and blow out the smoke, two thousand kilometres away.

‘Will ten thousand do?’

PART TWO

23

I didn’t recognise the police guards at the door of the intensive care unit. The two youngsters looked wet behind the ears. Phatudi’s clods must be on day shift, but these boys didn’t look any better. They sat staring at me with their pistols safely clipped in their holsters until I reached them. One stood up then.

‘No entry.’ His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep.

‘My name is on the list.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Lemmer.’

He took a folded sheet of paper from his breast pocket and opened it out.

‘Martin Fitzroy?’

Fucking Phatudi. ‘Yes.’

‘Wait here.’

The balaclavas could have eliminated them in about four seconds.

I waited. At a quarter past seven Dr Eleanor Taljaard came out of Emma’s ward. She looked tired. I wondered when she had last slept. She said there were ‘positive signs’. ‘She’s still in the coma, but is responding more strongly to external stimuli. Her Glasgow index is eight now.’

‘How much will that improve her chances?’

‘Ask me again after we’ve done the CAT scan tonight.’

‘More or less?’

‘Lemmer, it’s guesswork.’

‘I know that.’

‘Well, I’d say more than fifty per cent.’

‘That’s an improvement on yesterday’s thirty-four per cent.’

‘It is. Let’s not get too excited about it. There’s a still a lot of work to do. You can be of help.’

‘Really?’

‘She needs stimulation, Lemmer. Your voice is the only one she knows. I want you to talk to her.’

‘Me? Talk to her?’

‘Yes.’ With great patience. ‘I want you to sit in the chair beside her bed and talk to her.’

‘For how long?’

‘As long as possible. You have all day.’

‘All day!’

‘Of course, you can eat and drink when you need to, but the more time you spend talking to her, the better.’

‘What do I say?’

‘Whatever you like. Keep your voice level and speak only loud enough for her to hear you. Talk to her.’

Life is not fair.

Eleanor saw exactly how keen I was.

‘Come on, Lemmer, she won’t know what you’re saying. Get a book and read to her. Or tell her the story of a film you’ve seen. Anything. She needs you.’