Page 32 of Soul on Fire
Doc and Jumper ran up the hillside and took positions on the perimeter, holding the hospital as the team’s fall back point. Jumper coughed hard and his face was streaked with soot. Doc spat black phlegm to the ground. “Chopper came down almost on top of us.”
Elliot’s heart was a hammer, his throat clenched shut.
“Which way is Majambu running?” Ikolo asked, staring at Elliot’s profile. “There are only two roads out of Sake. Which one is he taking?”
* * *
Cole and Hoodscrambled behind a black boulder and over the slick volcanic rock, their boots slipping beneath them every other step. The ground was cooled lava, sculpted flows of igneous rock from Nyiragongo, slicing through roads and pouring almost into the lake twenty feet away.
People were running into the water and trying to swim for freedom. Swim across Lake Kivu or to the peninsula jutting toward Sake, he didn’t know. The peninsula didn’t seem far enough to get away from this shit.
“I see him,” Cole said. “He’s making his way up the road. He’s running with a group of refugees. L-T, should we follow? We might be able to catch him.”
There was a pause, static on the line. “Which direction is he going?” Elliot asked. “Which road is he on?”
Hood frowned, but checked the compass. “West, L-T. He’s on the road heading west.”
* * *
Ikolo turnedElliot’s face to him, his hand on Elliot’s jaw. “Majambu is not going back to rebel territory. The ADF only control the north. He’s going west with a purpose. He has identity papers now and the name Elombe, thanks to me.”
“What’s west? What’s on that road?”
“The dark heart of the Congo is west. The impenetrable forest, the Congo river, and the Mai-Mai. More rebels. Mines. Ebola is out there too. Everything you’ve ever feared about Congo, every nightmare you’ve heard. That is what lies to the west.”
Elliot stared at him. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not. I’m from there. You will never find Majambu to the west.”
“Fuck!” Elliot shouted. His expression went tight, his face rock-hard, and he cursed again. Doc and Jumper looked back.
“You will never find him there without help,” Ikolo said softly. “Youmzunguscannot travel the forest. You don’t know the Congo. No matter who you are or how special you are where you come from, you cannot penetrate the Congo’s heart.” Ikolo held Elliot’s stare. “But I can.”
“You’re offering to guide us?”
“I’m offering to trade.”
“Tradewhat?”
“I will guideyou, Lieutenant, and your men will take the children in my hospital to your rendezvous and back to safety.”
“What?” Elliot exploded. He jerked away, staring at Ikolo with a wild look in his eyes. “There is no way—”
“When this hospital needs to evacuate, the nurses are in charge of taking the ambulatory patients and I am responsible for the children. There are twenty children in that tent.” Ikolo pointed to the malnourishment tent. “Twelve of them can walk. Eight are too young. There are five of you. Four of your men can carry the little ones and guide the rest to safety.” Ekumanyi was there, trying to recover the weight he’d lost. He was skin and bones, so thin Ikolo could count his ribs. But he was strong. He would survive. He could see it in Ekumanyi’s eyes.
If he lived through this night.
“We are not a rescue service—”
“I will guide you through the forest and we can catch Majambu, but this is my price. Save my people, Lieutenant. Save my children.”
Elliot breathed hard, his chest rising and falling, jaw muscles bulging. “Why me?”
“You’re black. The rest of your men aren’t. Where we’re going, most people have never seen a white face before. There are still stories told about demons with white faces. Your men could be killed.”
Elliot looked away.
“You speak some Swahili. Do the rest of your men?”
