Pride of the Veld

He could hear the man drawing closer, still heading in a trajectory that would miss Geo by twenty feet or so if he remained hidden. He had to try. As quietly as he could, Geo powered up the phone. The telltale electronic ping of activation sounded to his ears like a bullhorn announcing his location to the entire continent. He held his breath, listening intently for the sound of footsteps coming his way.
    Sweat dripped into his eyes, stinging. His fingers shook as he tried to dial his grandfather’s phone. He wrapped the phone in his shirt, trying to muffle the sounds of it connecting. It was foolish, he knew, wouldn’t make much of a difference in the great scheme of things; but he felt a little more in control, and his shaking eased.
    He couldn’t hear the man, but he could feel him stalking him. Waiting for him to move or breathe or make a sound that would draw him into the man’s sights. He slid the phone over his ear and heard the urgent voice of his grandfather calling his name.
    “Shhhhhh! Oupa” He whispered urgently, wrapping himself in a ball, hunching over as much as possible so the phone was buried between his knees, driving the sound into the red dirt. “Listen, just listen. They’re here, at least two men. They’ve taken Andrea hostage in the camp, and one of them is tracking me. He knows what he’s doing. I don’t know where Danie is… you just…” Geo froze, instantly muting the connection.
    He left the phone on, hidden under the bush, giving Oupa a signal to find, but he couldn’t risk anything else. He’d heard the snapping of a small twig. An animal would have kept moving, but the sudden stillness pointed to the man hunting him. He was so very, very close; too close to run. Geo huddled even smaller and prayed.
    ****
    Danie slid through the grass listening for any sign of Geo, who could remain undetectable when he wanted to be. He was about a hundred yards from camp when the howling started. It turned his blood cold. It wasn’t Geo. He knew Geo’s pain, his voice. No, this had to be Andrea, which surprisingly for him wasn’t the least bit better. Danie pushed those thoughts away and focused on what he was hearing.
    There were two distinct voices. One was obviously the Italian. The other? Likely one of the other men from the photograph… which left two missing: Geo and the third man. He crept slowly forward until he had a view of half the campsite.
    From this angle, he could see the front end of the Rover off to his right and a little beyond it he could see a pinned Andrea struggling weakly against the man sitting on him. He was facing the opposite direction, and the man on top of him was keeping hard pressure on him, keeping his arms pulled up high behind him. It was a brutal hold.
    He couldn’t see the rest of the campsite clearly enough to risk a rescue from where he was. He couldn’t spot Geo, which didn’t mean he wasn’t being held out of sight. He needed to make it back up to the higher ground, regain the advantage. Moving under cover, praying that Andrea could hang on, Danie eased back into the bush.
    It felt like a lifetime, though it likely only took a few minutes to get in position on the rocky outcropping overlooking the campsite. Someone had already used this spot; there was fresh sign, scuffs in the rocky soil, and a handprint in the red dust. God he hoped it was Geo’s.
    He focused on the Range Rover for a moment. Geo must have set up the satellite phones to charge, though the solar panels looked wrong― as though half folded up or damaged in a struggle. He could see only one phone still attached to the charger. A quick glance at the handprint and he could guess what Geo would have thought, seeing the phones so clearly, the vehicle providing cover from the rest of the campsite. He was tempted to go back down and grab the other phone for himself.
    It looked like the rest of the area was clear. From this angle he could see a short way into the open flap of the tent. It was too small to hide movement from someone searching their things. It was possible that Geo was incapacitated in some way and hidden from view, but from this vantage point it looked like Andrea and his captor were alone in the camp. He turned his attention to the man using both hands as he struggled to control the weakly writhing Italian.
    There was a military-style pistol grip sticking out of the back of his khakis that worried Danie a great deal. At any minute that man could lose patience with