Danger at Dahlkari (28 page)

We stood in front of the huts, still silent, all of us watching Reggie, waiting for instructions. He was superbly calm now, and when he spoke his voice was crisp, full of authority.

“You will go to your quarters and pack, get everything ready so we can leave immediately at first light. I suggest you change clothes tonight and sleep in what you'll wear tomorrow. Sleep. God knows it won't be easy, but tomorrow is going to be a rough day, and all of us are going to need our strength. I feel sure there's no immediate danger, but, just the same, I'm going to keep two men on guard all night. We'll take it in two-hour shifts. Norman, you and Burke will take the first shift. Bates and Herlihy will relieve you.”

Sally and I returned to our hut. While she lighted all three of the lamps, I closed and locked the door, closed and fastened the flimsy woven grass shutters over the two windows that opened onto the small front veranda. I was calm. I knew I had to be. Later, when this was over, when we were out of danger, I would grieve, give way to the emotions welling up inside, but it was a luxury I couldn't afford at the moment. I took off the blue silk dress and packed it away, changing into a blue- and tan-striped cotton frock. Lifting the mosquito netting aside, I sat down on the bed to fasten up my kid boots.

Sally was still in her petticoat, holding her sumptuous emerald gown in front of her with a resigned expression.

“I have a feeling I'll never wear it again,” she said.

“That's a foolish thing to say. You—you mustn't think that way.”

“It did the job,” she replied. “He asked me to marry him, just up and asked me as we were sitting on those cushions. I said no, of course, said I'd never consider marrying a military man. Then he grinned and told me he was leaving the army, being demobbed just six weeks from now. He's saved enough to go into business for himself, and he owns a little house in Chelsea—his aunt left it to him. He wants to be a
printer
, can you imagine that?”

“I'm sure he'll do very well for himself. What did you say then?”

“I told him I'd think about it. Naturally I'll say yes eventually, but it'll be lovely having him per
suade
me. This—this was the loveliest evening of my life, and then.…”

“Let's not discuss it, Sally. We—we must pack.”

“I'm worried. I may as well confess it. They—they're just supposed to attack unwary caravans, and then they massacre a whole group of English soldiers. Reggie says there's no danger, but—he just says that. I could tell he was just trying not to alarm us.”

“Maybe so, but—we've got to be strong, Sally.”

“You're right, of course. At least
this
time we're surrounded by men. We came through before. We'll come through again. Personally, I intend to be bright and brave and put on a good front for the men tomorrow. They're going to need all the encouragement they can get—”

Sally changed into her old dusty-rose frock and put on a pair of brown kid boots. We finished our packing and made everything ready, and then we blew out the lamps and stretched out on our beds. Sally said she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep a wink, not a wink, but both of us were exhausted and a short time later I could tell from her breathing that she had indeed fallen fast asleep. Moonlight seeped in through the cracks under the shutters, tracing silver patterns on the floor, and the walls were thick with shadows. The camp was still, silent. I could hear jungle noises. All the creaking, rustling, slithery sounds seemed to take on ominous, threatening new meanings as my imagination peopled the jungle with stealthy figures all in white.

You must stop this, I scolded myself. You must go to sleep.

I tried not to think of Michael. It did no good. I could see that handsome face, the wide, mobile mouth, the solemn blue eyes, the errant lock of dark blond hair that always seemed to be spilling over his brow. I remembered his touch, his smell, and I remembered the gravity in his voice when he spoke of his love for me. He would never ask that question now. I fought the emotions sweeping over me, knowing that if I gave in to them I would never be able to face the ordeal ahead. Michael was gone. The passionate promise of that last, tumultuous kiss would never be fulfilled. If only I had given him the sign he had so eagerly awaited. If only I hadn't held him off … How I wished now that he could have left for his expedition confident of my love.

Try though I might, I was unable to sleep. Resting on top of the covers fully clothed, I turned this way and that, trying to make my mind a blank, but it was futile. I thought about all that had happened since Sally and I had left Bath. I was no longer the same person. That stiff, stubborn, inexperienced young girl seemed a stranger to me now.

I heard low voices outside as the guard was changed, then the sound of Burke and Sergeant Norman returning to their hut next to ours. Norman was indeed a fine specimen. He would make a superb, if somewhat strict husband, exactly the sort Sally needed. I had no doubt they would be extremely happy together, two strong, vital, red-blooded people who were very much in love. I was pleased for them both.

Time passed. Still I was unable to sleep. Now that my eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, I could see everything inside the hut clearly, the misty moonlight turning the rough wooden floor the color of old pewter, spread with long black shadows from the furniture. Sally moaned softly and stirred in her sleep, throwing out one arm. The transparent tent of mosquito net billowed. A stream of moonlight reached the wooden table between our beds, washing it with silver. The pistol rested on top of the table, cleaned, oiled, fully loaded, ready to use. If the occasion arose, would I be able to use it? Could I actually shoot someone with it? Would I be able to take a human life?

Drowsy now, praying for sleep, I thought about Robert Gordon. I wondered where he was, what he was doing. He was probably somewhere in the area, probably wearing his native disguise.… I saw him in the flowing tan and white burnoose, the hood pulled up over his head, looking like some fierce Arab sheikh, and he had hold of my wrist and was dragging me across the sand toward a billowing tent. We were inside, and he was holding me in a tight grip and I struggled, beating at his chest, and he told me it would do me no good, that it was inevitable, and then he wrapped his arms around me and it was raining and we were in the gazebo and he was wearing the gypsy outfit and I wanted never, never to leave those arms because I was truly alive only when I was with him and he was my fate, my destiny.…

I awoke with a start, galvanized into a state of total alertness in a matter of seconds, not the least vestige of drowsiness remaining. There had been some noise.… I sat up, my blood cold, and I was startled to see Sally sitting on the side of her bed, the mosquito net thrown back. The room was flooded with moonlight. It was almost as bright as day.

“I—I was dreaming,” I said. “Something woke me—”

“I thought I heard a—a funny noise,” Sally whispered.

My heart seemed to have stopped beating, and that icy coldness inside was chilling. I heard a soft, barely audible thud on the veranda as though someone had swung lightly over the railing. Sally gave a little gasp, her cheeks pale. I stood up, seizing the gun. Sally stood behind me, and I could feel her body tremble. We listened, and there was no more noise. I was beginning to think I had imagined it when the shutters covering one of the windows began to rattle.

“Miss Lauren—” Sally said hoarsely.

And then the shutters flew back and the man leaped up on the sill. He was dressed all in white, and he held a yellow rumal stretched tautly between his hands.

Eleven

He crouched there on the windowsill, ready to spring into the room, and he was like something from a nightmare, his dark face stamped with hatred, the eyes burning, the lips spread back, teeth bared. He stared at us for perhaps three seconds, and then he popped the yellow rumal and coiled his body for the leap. I swung the pistol up from my side and aimed and pulled the trigger. The hut seemed to rock with the blast. I saw a bright red blossom explode in the direct center of his forehead in the brief instant before he toppled over onto the veranda. It had happened in less than a minute, in a matter of seconds.

I felt nothing, nothing whatsoever. I heard shouts, screams, the deafening explosions of guns firing, firing, and I threw open the door and rushed onto the veranda, instinctively, without thinking, and I saw the white clad figures swarming over the camp. I took aim. I fired. I saw the Thug leap into the air with arms and legs thrown out, and then he fell in a heap, blood gushing from his temple. I fired again, again, never once missing, and vaguely I was aware of Burke and Norman and all the others, all of them firing, the noise incredible, causing my ears to ring, the area around the huts dense with smoke, orange fires streaking, bodies flying in a grotesque, frenzied dance of death.

Reggie was standing several yards in front of his hut, firing his pistol rapidly, turning this way, that, bodies falling around him, and then I saw Dollie rush out of the hut with another pistol. She was still wearing that remarkable red velvet gown. Quickly, she and Reggie exchanged pistols, and she turned to rush back inside to reload the one he had been using. It was then that I saw the Thug standing on the edge of the roof of their hut. He dived toward Dollie, flying through the air like some treacherous bird, and he would have landed directly on top of her if my bullet hadn't caught him in midair, the impact of it sending him crashing against the veranda. He hit it with such force that one of the columns broke in two, causing the roof to sag down. Dollie rushed on into the hut without a pause.

A Thug leaped toward me, screaming, cracking the yellow rumal between his hands. I fired, and there was nothing but a loud click. The gun was empty. I turned and stumbled back into the hut, slamming the door behind me, locking it. I saw Sally standing at the foot of her bed, her face chalk white, one hand hidden in the folds of her skirt, the other spread across her bosom. I hadn't moved two yards across the room before the Thug hurled his body against the door. It came tumbling down with a loud bang, the Thug on top of it. I stared in horror as he climbed slowly to his feet, looking at me with insane eyes.

I shook my head, backing away from him. His lips spread in a terrible smile of anticipation as, slowly, deliberately, he moved toward me. Still holding the empty pistol, I stumbled, falling back against the wall. The Thug yelled. He swung the yellow rumal in the air and hurled himself at me, and then his body jerked back convulsively and his eyes widened with shock as the bullet from Sally's pistol splintered his spine. Tumbling to the floor, he landed on his side and began to thrash around in a circle, kicking his legs, spinning like a gigantic insect. Sally fired again, and the side of his face exploded like a pulpy red plum. His body jerked violently, then went limp.

“He—he's dead,” she said hoarsely. “I killed him.”

The pistol in her hand was still smoking. Dazed, incredulous, Sally stared at the broken, bloody thing on the floor.

“I brought the pistol—just like Gordon told me. He told me never to leave the post without it. I—I didn't think I could use it.”

“Give it to me, Sally. Here. Take this one. Reload it. Do you know how to do it?”

“I—I think so. Bill showed me once.”

“The bullets are in a box in my bag. Hurry, Sally.”

Clutching Sally's pistol, I rushed back out onto the veranda. A Thug was climbing over the railing. I shot him between the eyes. I saw Private Stanton across the way. A Thug charged him, and even as Stanton fired at him another Thug fell upon him from behind, slinging his rumal around the private's throat. Stanton dropped his pistol and threw his arms up to tear at that tightening yellow scarf, and then Corporal Burke leaped on the Thug strangling the private, and all three of them went down together. Through the smoke I saw Stanton stumble to his feet, rubbing his throat. He shook his head, momentarily dazed, then quickly retrieved his pistol and continued to fire. Burke was astride the Thug on the ground, choking the assassin to death with his bare hands. When the Thug went limp, Burke leaped up, seized the pistol he had thrust into his waistband and fired at a Thug who was about to sling a rumal around Reggie's throat.

It went on and on. I emptied Sally's pistol, and then she was beside me with my own gun, fully loaded. I took it from her, gave her the other, and she rushed back inside to load it. I shot another Thug, another. The ground was littered with bleeding bodies, dozens of them, it seemed, as though some furious giant had scattered handfuls of them from above. Bullets streaked. Smoke billowed. People yelled. It seemed there weren't so many of them now, only a few when before there had been multitudes. The bodies continued to pile up. The ground ran red with blood. Then only half a dozen or so assassins remained. Realizing they were defeated, they raced into the jungle, Burke and three others in hot pursuit. We heard the loud crackle of gun shots and anguished yells, and finally there was silence.

The smoke gradually lifted. I stood in front of the hut, dazed, in a trance, and Sally stood beside me, gripping my hand tightly. The ground in front of us was covered with bodies, at least twenty-five of them, all twisted in crazy angles, blood still streaming from some of them. Four of the bodies were English. Lieutenant Jones was dead, his neck broken, his dark brown eyes open wide in amazement. Captain Barber was dead, too, and Sergeants Bates and Herlihy, the two men who had been on guard duty before the attack began. The smoke evaporated, and the first pale yellow rays of morning sunlight streamed over the treetops. Birds warbled throatily, celebrating the new day. A monkey chattered noisily. The three men who had gone with Burke after the Thugs returned. Burke was not with them.

“Where—where is Burke?” I asked Captain Palin.

“I'm afraid I don't know, Miss,” Palin replied. “We got separated in the jungle.”