Kalahari by Jessica Khoury
The medic was gone, but soon after I’d opened my eyes, Sam appeared.
“Hey. How’re you feeling?”
It took a moment to loosen my tongue. “Numb.”
He nodded. “They gave you something. Morphine, I think.”
“Who?”
“The medics. Your dad reached a game warden on the radio—Henrico, I think? Anyway, the guy called for help and gave them our location. They’re all here. Medics, soldiers, some people in suits.”
“Dad! Where is he? Is he okay?”
“Hey, easy! He’s fine. Well, he did faint, just after Abramo . . . but the medics took care of him too. They said the bullet passed through him. He bled a lot, but he’ll be okay.”
I shut my eyes, letting relief wash over me like a cool breeze.
“Abramo shot himself.” I said it with disbelief, wondering if I’d dreamed it.
But Sam nodded, his eyes grim.
Better to die than fail them. Wasn’t that what Abramo had said? But why? What punishment could these people bring down on him that was worse than being consumed by a living metal parasite? What was so bad that he preferred shooting himself?
I shuddered, and the sensation unlocked some of the feeling that the morphine had been pushing away. My arms. My chest. My hands most of all. They felt raw and tender, and the smallest movement sent ripples of agony and pain through me.
Sam reached out and touched my forehead. “Be still,” he said. “They’re going to take you to a hospital soon. They won’t let any of us leave until we’ve each given our side of the story, but I bet we get out sooner. Your dad’s furious. He’s talking to some government guy right now, telling him you need to be transported right away. The medics did what they could. They bandaged you up.”
I looked down. My shirt was gone, and my arms and hands and my chest from my neck to my diaphragm were tightly swathed in bandages.
“Everywhere the Metalcium was, you have second – to third-degree burns,” Sam explained, his voice gentle and his eyes serious. “The bee venom caused some kind of reaction, undoing the Metalcium, your dad said. Avani explained it too, but I understood only half of what she said. You were unconscious through most of it. It wasn’t . . .” He chewed his lip, his eyes lowering. “It was good you weren’t awake.” Then he lifted his gaze, forcing a small smile. “They put on some kind of burn cream and these bandages, and they said it will take a couple of months to fully heal.”
I nodded.
“Sarah?” He studied me closer, watching my eyes with intentness. “Are you okay with all of this?”
When I found my voice, it was hoarse. “I’ll live?”
His brows furrowed, and then his eyes grew wide. “Yes! Yes, you’re fine! The Metalcium is gone—all of it, that they can tell. Not that they know much about it. They want to run more tests, but it looks like you’re in the clear.”
“Just like Mom,” I whispered. “Abramo killed her by setting a swarm of bees on her, thinking it would cover up her murder—and it did. But it also healed her of the Metalcium infection. She’d counted on us finding her infected and discovering the truth about the murder, but the bees’ venom cured her before we did. It’s like a weird, twisted circle.” I sighed and looked up at Sam. “How’s Dad? He touched me when he carried me inside.”
“He got stung too. Some of the other bees escaped and they went right for him. They ignored everyone else, just stung your dad, like they knew he’d been infected. Your dad said it tingled, but it wasn’t anything like what you went through.”
I nodded. “He was barely infected, like my mom. That’s why we didn’t see burns on her—the infection must not have reached her skin yet. If it had, maybe Abramo would have seen how the bee venom healed her. Maybe then this could have ended months ago.”
“But if it hadn’t been for her, maybe the cure would have never been found at all,” said Sam. “The whole world might have been—Sarah! Why are you crying?”
I didn’t know. Relief, mostly. Happiness. Disbelief. Latent sorrow. The bandages were so tight I couldn’t breathe deep enough to sob, so I just lay still and tried not to move while tears ran down the sides of my face. Sam hovered over me in distress, looking as if he wanted to hold me, not daring to move me. It was better that he didn’t, though I’d have given my left arm if I could have only let him embrace me.
I’d held all hope for myself at such a distance the past few days that I couldn’t bear the way it came crashing down on me now. I’d been so certain I wouldn’t live, so resigned to going insane and dying like Dr. Monaghan, that the sudden turn of fate was overwhelming. I never knew that happiness could hurt so much.
I heard the door open and shut. I wasn’t facing it, and it wasn’t worth the pain of turning to look, so I had to wait until whoever it was came into view.
It was Dad, with an officer from the Botswana Defence Force, by the look of his crisp uniform. Dad was all concern and reassuring smiles for me. He looked much better. The color had returned to his skin somewhat, and he had a clean shirt on, with a slight lump on his side where the bandage was. The Batswana officer looked stressed, and I didn’t blame him. I wondered how much he knew about what was going on.
Dad held my bandaged hand. “Sweetheart, this is Colonel Seretsi from the BDF. He’ll have some questions for you.”
“What’s happening?” I asked.
Dad sighed and scratched at his hair, as weary as I’d ever seen him. “We let out the rest of the bees. They went straight after some infected animals that were in the area. We’ve already found a few silver rabbits and a duiker, dead from the venom.”
“And we are bringing in more hives,” said the colonel. “Importing them from South Africa and Namibia.”
“So you’re setting bees loose all across the central Kalahari? You trust they’ll really be able to eliminate the rest of Metalcium?”
“Even if they don’t,” he replied, “we know now how to contain it. It’s a simple matter of catching it early enough. Future treatments need not be so . . .” He raised a brow and his eyes roamed uneasily over my bandages. “So dramatic,” he finished.
A soldier in a black beret trotted inside and snapped to attention. “Colonel, the president is requesting to speak with you.”
The colonel nodded, gave me a tight smile, and excused himself. Dad studied my face; I didn’t remember there being so many creases around his eyes.
“You doing okay, honey? It’s good to see you awake.”
“Better,” I said. “Where have you been, Dad? We found where you’d crashed, and Theo . . .”
Dad’s eyes lowered. He rubbed a weary hand across his ragged beard. “We were ambushed. Abramo must have figured out we’d been tracking them, then doubled back to wait for us. Theo and I split up, hoping to divide them. They chased me a whole day through the bush before I managed to lose them. Then I doubled back and found . . . ah, where you’d buried Theo.” Dad paused to scrub at the tears in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have told him to split off. We should have—”
“Not your fault, Dad,” I whispered.
He sighed. “I tracked you back to the camp. Thought you’d got snatched there, so I jumped the two mercs they’d left behind.”
“You jumped them?”
Dad shrugged. “All those years I spent playing rugby taught me a thing or two about tackling. You should have seen your dear old dad! I still have the stuff! Anyway, it became clear from those two thugs that you were still on the run. They told me about the Metalcium escaping the lab, Abramo hunting you, all of it. I tracked you from there until I found Hank swamped in the sand. I was already two days behind you at that point, and hoped to catch up. But then there was a bushfire—”
“Oh,” I said slowly, wincing. “Yeah . . . I might have had something to do with that.”
Dad raised a brow. “Hm. Well, you made things bloody diffi
“Did you see the lab?” I asked.
“Not until today. The fire forced me south, around this place. After I realized you’d been captured, I ran like a demon to catch up, but when I finally reached Abramo’s camp . . .” He stopped, his voice going hoarse. “When I saw him shoot—Sarah, Sarah . . .” He gathered me into his arms, and though it made me ache with pain, I said nothing. The feel of his arms was too precious to let go. But then he must have realized how it hurt me, because he quickly put me down, muttering, “Sorry, sorry.”
“I thought you were dead,” I said bluntly. “I was taking us to Ghansi, and then I was going to come back and look for you.”
He smiled sadly and ran his hand over my hair. “You did exactly right, sweetheart. I am so proud of you. Theo would have been, too, knowing how you used his teaching to stay alive. Your friends have been filling me in. According to them, you saved their lives a dozen times over. That none of them would have survived without you.”
“They . . . they said that?”
I felt a few tears run down my cheeks, and Dad gently wiped them away.
“They’ve sent for a better equipped medical team, to take care of you. Shouldn’t be long before they get here.”
“And Sam and the others?”
Sam cleared his throat. “We have to stay until they decide we’re not infected. A week, they’re guessing, but it could be longer.”
I grinned. “Can’t get rid of you, can I?”
He smiled and stroked the hair back from my face. His fingers were bare now, and it made my breath catch in my throat. I caught my dad shooting a narrow look from me to Sam, and he scowled a bit before telling us he was going to go check on the medical team’s progress.
When he was gone, I shut my eyes, feeling tired again and wondering if they could give me some more painkillers. Sam asked if I wanted water and I shook my head. I was thirsty, yes, but I didn’t want to endure the pain of swallowing just yet. Anyway, I’d gotten very good at ignoring thirst over the past week.
“I want to sit up,” I said.
“I don’t think you should—”
“Please, Sam.”
He didn’t look happy about it, but he helped me up, propping me on some pillows that the medics had left for me.
I looked around, frowned, and turned to Sam. “They really burned everything?”
“Yeah. I guess after Dr. Monaghan failed to create a cure, they decided to get rid of the rest of the evidence. The ashes are still warm, so we’re guessing Abramo had just finished burning everything when the guys who caught us called and told him we’d been caught. They found . . . Dr. Monaghan is dead. Abramo must have shot him, and had his body burned with everything else, including the rest of the animals that were in those cages.”
The room was almost empty. There was only this table and a few bare cabinets left.
I sighed. “There was enough evidence in here to crack Corpus wide open. We saw it! We can tell them about Abramo, Metalcium, Corpus, all of it.”
I didn’t like the way Sam was avoiding my eyes.
“What is it?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“Sarah . . . Corpus doesn’t exist.”
My scalp prickled. “What?”
“I mean, you and I know that they do, but the name doesn’t come up. We told that colonel guy everything, but there’s no physical evidence. When they questioned the guys Abramo had hired, they said they’d never heard of Corpus and that they figured Abramo was trying to steal the research from this place. The helicopter—it’s outside—and the cars they were driving were all registered in Abramo’s name. They believe Dr. Monaghan was running this place on his own, since the funds they used came out of his private account. Besides us, no one who knew the truth is still alive to question, and they think we’re all suffering from shock and dehydration. If it weren’t for us, the word Corpus would never have even come up.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“That’s what I said. What we all said.” He shrugged. “Some people from the government are coming out here to talk to us. We’ll just have to wait and see if they listen.”
I couldn’t believe that after everything we’d been through, the real criminals could get away clean. I hadn’t even considered it a possibility.
“Sarah.” He sat beside me on the table, took my bandaged hand in his. “Let it go. You’re alive, we’re all alive, and that’s what matters.”
I leaned against him, my head on his shoulder, and sighed. He was right. I decided to simply bask in the joy of my continued existence for the time being. After a few moments, I felt a calm come over me. I lifted my head.
“I want to go outside,” I said.
He gave me a dubious look.
“I can’t stand being in here another minute,” I pressed.
That seemed to persuade him. He helped me stand, keeping an arm around my waist as I wobbled forward.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Not too bad.” But I winced and clenched my teeth as I took a step.
Outside, the sun was setting, and the people walking back and forth were silhouettes against the scarlet sky. No one seemed to notice us, for which I was grateful. I didn’t feel up to conversation. I just wanted to sit somewhere quiet and feel the cool evening air on my face.
We went around to the back of the building, where we found Kase, Miranda, Joey, and Avani sitting in the sand. They called to us, and we joined them. It took some very ginger maneuvering for me to lower myself to the ground, but managed it with Sam’s help. I leaned against him and breathed in deeply, filling my lungs with the fresh Kalahari breeze.
“How are you feeling?” asked Avani.
“Better,” I said. “Well, it hurts, but in a good way.”
“I can’t believe we made it,” said Joey. “Can you say, ‘best vacation ever’?”
We all groaned, but couldn’t help smiling.
“Sarah.” Miranda’s voice was soft and uncertain. I met her eyes and found them unusually shy. “I just wanted to say, you know, thanks. For putting up with me. Keeping us alive. I was kind of a witch. . . .”
“We all were,” said Avani. She took Miranda’s hand and squeezed it, and the girls exchanged—of all things—a smile.
“For what it’s worth,” said Kase gruffly, “I’ve decided not to sue you.”
“Um, thanks?” I said.
It may have been the medication, but I felt oddly at ease. Was it just a few days ago that I’d first met these people? I recalled the dread I’d felt that first day and of how I’d wondered if we’d make it through the week. In retrospect, it seemed silly. I felt I’d known them much longer. Despite the circumstances, I was glad we’d all met. Surprisingly glad.
I chanced a shy look at Sam, and found he was already staring at me. When our eyes met, we both blushed but didn’t look away. His curiosity, his energy, his wonder for the world had reawakened the part of me I was so sure I’d lost.
“What now?” he asked.
I smiled. “Next stop the pyramids?”
He grinned, and impulsively I lifted my chin and kissed him. For a moment, the warmth of that kiss drove away the pain and the horrors of the last few days. I leaned into him as much as my bandages allowed, until at last I pulled my lips away and rested my forehead against his.
“The pyramids, the North Pole, the moon,” Sam replied, his voice a bit hoarse. “Next stop anywhere, as long as you’re there.”
The evening cooled around us, soft and smooth as a black leopard stalking through the bush. High above, a few stars began their nightly vigil, lighting one by one, while the moon rose behind us. There is nowhere on Earth that the moon looks so hu
Special thanks to all those who helped make this book possible, providing support, inspiration, and advice. My editor, Jessica Almon—thank you so much for believing in this book! I can’t imagine it coming to life without your insight and enthusiasm. Heartfelt thanks to Ben Schrank, Sarah Chassé, and everyone at Razorbill, for shepherding this book. Marisa Russell and the rest of the tireless publicity team at Penguin, thank you so much for spreading the word and making sure Sarah’s story finds readers. And of course much love to Lucy; you are a lion among agents!
A huge thank you to all those who taught me about the Kalahari: Hank and the rest of the folks at Mabalingwe Nature Reserve in South Africa, and Jacobus and the team at Deception Valley Lodge in Botswana for answering my many questions and for the long, wonderful hours spent tracking elephants, lions, and leopards. Tsota and Xise, for sharing with me so much about Naro culture and survival skills; Sarah and the crew would never have made it out alive without you! Thanks to my translators—Sam and Christa for your help with Afrikaans, and Denise for your French.
Thanks to my family, particularly my dad, who read this first, and my grandmother, who lent her medical expertise. And my mom, who taught me to love animals and how to turn everything into an adventure. Love you all! And finally my Ben, for your unwavering support and for letting me drag you on this crazy adventure—even when it means ending up lost in the middle of the South African bush at midnight (totally my fault!). I love you.