Roadkill by Paul Leger

Author:Paul Leger [Leger, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
ISBN: 9781990952982
Publisher: Red Press
Published: 2020-04-27T22:00:00+00:00

27

“Don’t be a wuss, man – get in there with them. My babies don’t bite.”

Botes glanced nervously behind him, averting the eyes of the agitated white lioness pacing up and down the game fence. Lions had never been his thing, and Jakkals knew it.

“Ag, don’t worry about her. She’s just an overgrown kitten.”

“You sure the electricity is switched on? I swear that thing looks like she wants to jump the fence, Jakkie.”

Jakkals Venter cackled. “Nooit going to happen. Unless she wants fifty thousand volts to go through her poepol.” He was enjoying the moment. “Here, grab my mug. I’ll fetch one for you to hold.”

“Seriously, I don’t need to. Mustn’t we just leave them alone, before the mother gets even more pissed off?”

Jakkals stepped into the pen and waded into his pride and joy. “All right, all right, don’t get all excited now. Connie, check how happy they are to see me. It’s like they think I’m their mom. Hey, get off my leg! The claws on these little shits can slice you open like razor wire. I said, off!” Jakkals slapped the cub across the head. It released its grip and rolled across the sawdust, yelping.

“Jesus, Jakkie, that was a stywe klap,” laughed Botes, checking anxiously behind him that the cub’s mother was still behind the fence.

“You have to show them who is boss; it’s the law of the jungle, Connie. This little bliksem’s not even six months and he wants to take me out. Amazing, hey? Not like us pathetic humans.” Jakkals grabbed hold of another cub and lifted it into the air, squirming and hissing. “Check this power.” Without warning, he reached over the pen and thrust the cub into Botes’s unwilling arms. “Whatever you do, don’t drop him. The bitch mother will go befok if you do.”

Botes staggered back under the weight and writhing power of the cub, which was hissing in his face like a cornered Cape cobra. “Jesus, Jakkie, I can hardly hold onto him. Eina! The thing scratched me!”

“That’s because you’re hugging him to death,” laughed Jakkals. “Keep it away from you so he can’t reach with its claws.”

Botes was starting to panic. And so was the cub in his grip. Below, the earth rumbled with a bloodcurdling growl that cut straight to Botes’ primal fear centre. “Please, Jakkie, I can’t hold him any more. You take him. Shit, I’m gonna drop him!” The cub hit the ground with a heavy thud. Jakkals had stopped laughing. His eyes had turned icy.

“You fucking mad, or what? You want to kill him?”

“Sorry, man, I couldn’t hold him any more.” Botes lifted two bleeding arms in his defence.

“I don’t care a fuck, Connie. You don’t drop it from a height and tell me it’s fine. What if it broke a leg? You know what these things are worth?”

“I said I’m sorry, Jakkals.”

“Come on, tell me. Five grand? Ten grand?”

“I don’t know.”

“In that case, let me tell you what a fat American hunter will pay for a juvenile white lion.

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