Black Reef by Nick Elliott

Author:Nick Elliott [Elliott, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780992902865
Published: 2018-12-10T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

I woke under a mosquito net, bathed in sweat, my mouth dry. But I’d slept for ten hours and after a cold shower and three cups of Côte d’Ivoire coffee I was ready for whatever lay ahead, or so I told myself.

It was raining with all the deafening ferocity of an equatorial storm. Fork and sheet lightning flashed across the sky accompanied by apocalyptic thunder-rolls. Water overflowed the guttering and splashed onto the veranda where we stood watching the drama.

Grant was determined we should meet with Nzinga as soon as possible. That was until Marco greeted us with the news that the only road to Kintani, the township where she held court, was closed.

‘Any idea why?’ Grant asked.

It was Mariana who replied. ‘They say Mendesa’s men are sealing off all routes into the city to stop people from the provinces getting in.’

‘What about the river?’ I asked. ‘Is it navigable?’

‘There are rapids east of the city but beyond that it’s navigable and boats can get all the way up to Kintani. It’s not used much these days but with the road closed it’s a possibility I suppose. We would need a boat of course,’ she said looking at Marco. I could see from their body language that they were on easy terms which each other, born of their past friendship and a mutual trust.

Marco headed off on a little motorbike to make enquiries and returned after a couple of hours to tell us what he’d arranged. The rain had eased off and we sat out on the veranda where it was cooler and formulated a plan so fraught with risk that Grant insisted Mariana stay behind. She just smiled.

We left at dusk that evening. Marco was driving a decrepit UN Land Rover he assured us he’d only borrowed, with Mariana alongside him and Grant and myself in the back. Marco knew another route away from the main road that would take us past the rapids to a small settlement from where we might find transport upriver. His best guess was that the journey to Kintani would take three or four days, that was if all went well.

We rolled, bounced and slithered our way along a track of red mud heading east with the aim of intersecting with the Rio Chitoka some eighty miles or so from Kazunda City. This would place us at the river port a few miles upriver from the rapids, and it was here we hoped to find the ride on up to Kintani.

Again the rain was incessant, the road a quagmire. Either side of us was dark jungle. Marco was twisting and turning the wheel to keep from getting stuck in the deep ruts left by other vehicles. But on three occasions during the five-hour drive, Grant and I had to get out and lay mats in front of each wheel to provide traction.

We saw little traffic in either direction, which was welcome as with the main road closed Marco had feared our track would be crowded with people from the villages trying to reach the capital.

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