Nila
IF DIAMOND ALLEY was the place where diamonds were sorted, raining eternal sunshine from giant spotlights, then Almasi Kipanga was the scar in the earth that’d created them.
The entire journey from the airport, Daniel kept his hand latched around my knee. I’d stewed in annoyance and repulsion but hadn’t argued or struck up conversation.
I had so much to say.
But each word would only herald more punishment.
Besides, Daniel didn’t deserve conversation. He was a lost, little boy, unable to see he was already dead. He might be a Hawk about to hurt me, but I was a viper in his nest just waiting to bite and poison him.
I had time.
I had stealth.
I’ll wait.
The driver escorted us through the silent night without a syllable spoken. His passenger-guard never rested, glaring out the window, his reflexes flinching and finger soaring to the gun trigger more than once. Especially when we stopped at red lights and drove down dirt roads.
When we traded human busyness for sparseness, he unsheathed a machete, placing it reverently across his knees. Starlight bounced through the windscreen, kissing the tarnished blade.
Hoots and howls replaced sounds of suburbia, scuttling premonition down my spine.
Inside the Jeep, we were safe...but out there...out there feasted animals far more equipped at killing than we were. Out there, they hunted; their yellow eyes flashing in the headlights.
My fatigue evaporated the deeper into Africa we drove. The driver and passenger granted me copious amounts of adrenaline as I fed off their alertness. They lived here yet they didn’t relax. They stayed on edge the entire journey.
What had they seen that I hadn’t?
What had they lived that I never would?
I didn’t want to know.
The four of us travelled together but apart—each wrapped in their own thoughts and journeys.
By the time we left barely sealed roads and clunked onto gravel trails, my muscles cramped from anxiety.
Every bump, I flinched. Every cackle from hyenas and every growl from lions, I squeezed my eyes with fear. The weapons our guides carried weren’t to subdue me; they were to prevent whatever was out there from consuming us.
Civilisation was no more. We’d entered the heart of nature where survival superseded wealth and common-sense triumphed over stupidity.
As we pulled into the horrendous hell of Hawk territory, more and more animal eyes gleamed in the darkness as the high beams illuminated wilderness. My heart banged against my ribs as a flash of predator and the squeal of prey echoed in the night. Some poor creature died only metres from me.
I’m next.
If I didn’t kill first.
Daniel chuckled, licking his lips at the thought of some poor animal becoming dinner.
I curled my fingers in disgust, looking out the opposite window. There, I could vaguely make out knobbly trees and sun-beaten terrain. The silver cast of moonlight forgave Africa’s sins but couldn’t hide its danger.
After crossing a dried-up riverbed and navigating the death plains, we finally pulled into a permanent camp.
The driver slowed, slipping through gates that sent a shiver down my spine. For all my strength and committed confidence at killing before being killed, I couldn’t swallow the lie any longer.
I finally understood that this place was more than just a mine. More than just Hawk property. More than just their ticket to wealth.
This was my grave.
“Welcome to our office.” Daniel opened the door once the Jeep wrenched to a halt. His fingers pressed on my seatbelt, freeing me, then wrapped around my wrist and yanked me from the seat. I slid out the door, stumbling a little as my legs woke up after being useless from sitting so long.
“Where are we?” I stretched, working out the kinks in my spine while my eyes danced over the camp.
A congregation of shipping containers had been converted into offices, wooden shacks with thatched roofs decorated the outskirts, and trodden muddy paths spoke of hardship and toil.
The moon offered some illumination, competing against the watery lights strung in bushes and the brighter warmth of electricity spilling from dwellings.
If I didn’t know who this place belonged to, it might’ve welcomed. I might’ve relished the thought of being in Africa for the first time. Going on a safari and witnessing the creatures I was afraid of, all from the safety of an organised tour.
Instead, all I wanted to do was run—to scale the fence barricading us and take my chances with the sharp-toothed lions prowling the boundaries.
At least I knew what they would do to me.
“Are you deaf or just fucking dumb?” Daniel wafted at the site as if it held every answer.
“This is ground zero. The place where the first diamond was found. The place where your family’s future became shadowed by mine.
” Tightening his cruel fingers around my wrist, he marched me through the encampment.
I guessed about thirty to forty shacks and canvas tents decorated the space while seven or so containers oversaw whatever work they undertook. The surrounding fence was patched like an old quilt—wood recently replaced and other wood that needed to be. Everything was sun-scorched and dust-sprinkled.
But it held a wild vibe. A homey vibe.
Somehow, the people who lived here had made the most of what they had and transformed it into more than just a mine but a sanctuary.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw something I didn’t think I would ever witness.
Daniel seemed to...relax.
His shoulders smoothed out. The feral desire to be seen and noticed calmed. The insanity inside him muted by the freedom he found here. Perhaps, he wasn’t just a psychopath, after all. Perhaps, I’d misjudged when I called him one-dimensional.
Just like I’d broken Jethro by using his lust for me and Kes’s kindness to become my ally, I tried to do the same with Daniel. “You like it here.”
His eyes snapped to mine. “Shut up, Weaver.”
“No. I want to know. You’ve got me all to yourself, Daniel. Cut said I could ask anything I want. Alright then, my first question is about you.”
His mouth hung open as if he couldn’t believe I’d just willingly entered into a conversation with him.
That’s right.
See me.
Hear me.
Feel me.
Then perhaps you won’t try and hurt me.
It was wishful thinking, but maybe, just maybe, it might payoff.
Just like it did with your brother.
“Is this some sort of trick?”
I shook my head. “No trick.” Pulling on his hold, I forced him to stop in the centre of the camp. A large fire pit charred the dirt while hacked up logs acted as seating. “You like it here. Why?”
His eyes darkened, but he answered. “Because it’s away from Hawksridge.”
“You don’t like that place?”
“I never fucking said that.” His temper smouldered.
I backtracked, trying to read between the lines. “You prefer this place over Hawksridge though...why?” Sudden understanding dawned. “Because you think of this place as yours and Hawksridge as Jethro's.”
His hand lashed out, wrapping around my collar. “Wrong, bitch. Hawksridge is mine. Jethro is dead. Remember? Shot. Cold and buried.”
I kept my secret while my heart warmed, rolling around in the truth.
He’s alive.
Looping my fingers over his wrist, I held on while he imprisoned my throat.
“It’s yours now—if you behave and follow what Cut tells you, of course.
But something makes me think you’ve always been happier here.
” I cocked my head. “Why is that? Because it’s away from Bonnie, perhaps?
It can’t be because Jasmine doesn’t come here.
I don’t see you interact, but she’s harmless. ”
As if.
Jasmine terrified me.
He didn’t answer, shoving me back and wiping his hands.
I tried again. “Jethro was hurt because of his condition. Jasmine was disabled for something I don’t understand. Kes was tolerated because he kept the peace. But you...you...” I gasped. “I know. You were the mistake. The third son—the unneeded backup to an inheritance that already had two heirs.”
Daniel suddenly exploded. His palm struck my cheek. “Shut the fuck up. I’m. Not. A. Mistake.”
I gasped against the pain, fighting an ocean of heat.
He could hit me. But he couldn’t deny it. The way he argued throbbed with past history and conviction. How many times had he been called that? How many times had it undermined his place in the family and turned him into this evil creature?
Holding my cheek, I muttered, “I didn’t say I thought you were a mistake. I asked if that was why you prefer it here.” I rubbed my flaming skin. “You’re his child. Same as all his children. It wasn’t right to make you feel any less than them.”
“Stop with the fucking psychoanalyzing. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Imprisoning my wrist again, he hauled me toward a large canvas tent.
I went with him—what choice did I have? But I did have a deeper understanding of my nemesis now. His childlike hatred. His out of control temperament. He might not have a soul to implore but once upon a time...he did. He was just a kid. An unwanted kid who did everything he could to be accepted.
The similarities with Jethro didn’t escape my notice. The only difference was Jethro allowed himself to finally change, improve...see his own self-worth.
“It wasn’t Cut who told you first, was it?” I couldn’t stop my runaway mouth. But this might be my only chance at understanding Daniel enough to defeat him.
He didn’t turn to look; his footsteps moved faster. “Shut up. Before I make you.”
“It was Bonnie, wasn’t it? She’s the one who told you you were a mistake.”
What are you doing?
Our pace increased and my eyes sought out escape paths. Climbing the few steps onto the wraparound deck, the fabric tent wasn’t a temporary abode. It’d been swallowed by the ground and had become part of the landscape with outdoor chairs, a veranda, internal reception room, bedroom, and bathroom.