The Elephant Girl by James Patterson & Sophia Krevoy

Author:James Patterson & Sophia Krevoy [James Patterson and Ellen Banda-Aaku & Krevoy, Sophia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2022-07-25T00:00:00+00:00

THIRTY-FOUR

There was a standoff, guns pointed, rocks poised, the crowd outnumbering the KWS staff tenfold. I wondered how long it would last and how it would end.

Mbegu’s heart rate was slowing; her time was running out. It was up to me to do something. I wasn’t going to let Mbegu die like Momma and Shaba. I had to help her, but how?

Lying over Mbegu wasn’t enough to save her. I realized I had to think fast.

Then, on the dusty horizon, I saw a dark green truck approaching. When it was close enough, I was able to make out the Naibunga Conservancy logo stenciled on the hood; a black antelope within a ring.

My only hope was that whoever was in that truck could help.

But the Land Rover stopped in the distance. My heart stopped as well. Why didn’t they come closer? Couldn’t they see us?

Time was running out. I wasn’t sure what to do. If I moved away from Mbegu, the crowd would stone her to death. If I stayed put, she would still die without medical attention.

In a flash, I made up my mind. I counted to ten and sprang to my feet. “Don’t let them hurt her!” I yelled at the KWS workers.

And I was off. Running, sprinting, leaving all the bewildered, unfinished questions—Where? Why? What?—in the dust. I tuned out the curses being flung at me and kept running. I prayed that the two men would keep the crowd at bay just a little longer. I prayed that Mbegu could hold out just a little while longer.

“Over here!” I waved my arms at the Naibunga Conservancy Land Rover. “Here! Help me! I need your help!”

The driver sped toward me and then slammed on the brakes, sending a spray of dirt in the air. “What’s happening?”

“An elephant,” I heaved. My lungs felt as if they were on fire. “In trouble. Revenge. They hurt her,” I explained between gasps. I hoped I was making sense.

“Whoa, whoa,” the man said. “Slow down.” He was wearing a uniform, a green jumpsuit with matching canvas belt and beret. His name tag read WARDEN, NAIBUNGA CONSERVANCY.

“No time,” I heaved. “She’s dying. The baby elephant.”

“Get in.” He reached across the passenger seat and opened the door for me. “Let’s go.”

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