In the Panther's Wake

Chapter 27

The bells in my ears keep on clanging. I keep my eyes closed and scream, but there's nothing, no one; just bells, bellowing endlessly. Forcing my eyes open, I lie spinning in the dark. I spit dirt from my mouth, squint and struggle to see. There's smoke everywhere, and dust. My thigh is agony and I hold it, feel it's wet—bleeding. As I sit up and stretch my leg, something stabs into me, something in my pocket. I reach in and pull out a hand full of blood, and shards of glass—the lens and glasses—shattered and destroyed. The one thing the soldiers didn't take from me, but not something I can worry about now.

I cry out in pain as I roll onto my front and begin crawling around, searching for Markus. There's coughing just ahead of me. Markus is on his hands and knees, gasping for air. There's blood on his cheek but he seems alright.

On go the bells, and I mouth the words, "Are you OK?"

Markus' eyes turn wide, as he looks at something behind me. I spin and pull my dagger from my belt again. The soldier lumbers towards us, falling now. I take a step back, standing beside Markus, his dagger also drawn. We both run forwards, thrusting our blades into the falling body. Our charge knocks him back and he falls. We land on him, our blades spearing from his chest, pinning him down. He's still, dead, as the bells slowly ring out.

I fall to my knees and Markus falls onto his back. We both pant and struggle for air as the smoke begins to clear. We cough vigorously, my chest a fiery pit. For a few minutes we don't move, don't say a word. Then finally I stand and step towards the soldier. I glare at his masked face, his neck crookedly falling back. I rip our daggers from the corpse.

They slide out easily and I turn, holding one of the blades out for Markus, offering him the handle. The soldier's blood coats my hands, and I stare at the red. This time I don't feel a thing. I don't feel sorry at all. Soldier's blood is on my hands, and I'm glad. I feel satisfied. Stronger.

Markus takes his dagger, and I heave him up by the wrist. We peer through the smoke, searching for signs of the other soldier.

"We're in a mine field, Bandi." His eyes aren't afraid, just defeated and deeply sad.

"We'll just have to be supremely careful."

I try to sound assuring, though my voice trembles. I picture ourselves flying up, exploding into pieces – one bad step, that's all it would take.

"Follow my footsteps," I say, spinning in the smokey dark.

"Which way?"

I have no idea. The blast knocked us up and the smoke hides any signs. I stare through the thick grey, searching for a beckoning glow. It isn't there, only dark mist churns. Closing my eyes, I search for it from within, turning slowly in a circle, searching, searching. I feel something pulling me, something warm and familiar. I stop and open my eyes.

"This way," I say.

It could be my own head forcing me to find a solution. But I have to believe it's something more. I step forwards, small steps, always looking down. And the smoke continues to clear. The plain ahead is basking, laying long and wide. I step lightly, on the balls of my feet, and Markus follows, tight on my tail. We move along like that, as one.

I scour the ground, looking for signs of anything that could be a mine; a trip wire, loose sand or earth. We stick close to the rocks, where planting mines would have been harder. But still it's too dark to move quickly, and we step slowly on till dawn finally brings us a comforting glow and a clear direction in which to head.

We slip carefully over patches of barbed wire, moving along tightly stuck to one another, eyes on the ground. We walk lightly, easing our feet onto the earth before planting our full weight. The sun slowly rises ahead of us and it begins to grow hot, sweat starts to seep from my forehead. Every part of me wants to speed up, cross this desert as quickly as possible. But the mines from wars long ago are our chains, holding us back. Speed would only tire us and make us thirsty. And we have nothing left to drink.