A hand brushed against the wire scieening, and then settled on the
handle, rattling it softly.
At last Debra found her voice. Who is that? she called, a high panicky
cry that ran out into the night silence.
Instantly the soft sounds ceased. The intruder was frozen by her
challenge. She could imagine whoever it was standing on the top step,
peering through the screening into the darkness of the veranda, trying
to make her out in the gloom. Suddenly she was thankful for the dark
blouse and black slacks.
She waited motionlessly, listening, and she heard a little wind shake
the tree-tops, bringing down a sudden quick patter of droplets. A
hunting owl called down near the dam. She heard the thunder murmur
bad-temperedly along the hills, and a nightiar screeched harshly from
amongst the poinsettia bushes.
The silence went on for a long time, and she knew she could not stand it
much longer. She could feel her lips beginning to quiver and the cold
and fear and the weight of the child were heavy upon her bladder, she
wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run to.
Then suddenly the silence was broken. In the darkness there was the
sound of a man giggling. It was shockingly close and clear, and it was
a crazy sound. The shock of it seemed to clutch at her heart and crush
the air from her lungs. Her legs went weak under her, beginning to
shake, and the pressure on her bladder was intolerable, for she
recognized the sound of that laughter, the sick insane sound of it was
graven upon her mind.
A hand shook the door handle, jerking and straining at it. Then a
shoulder crashed into the narrow frame. It was a screen door, not built
to withstand rough treatment. Debra knew it would yield quickly.
She screamed then, a high ringing scream of terror, and it seemed to
break the spell which held her. Her legs would move again, and her
brain would work.
She whirled and ran back into her workroom, slamming the door and
locking it swiftly.
She crouched beside the door, thinking desperately.
She knew that as soon as he broke into the house Akkers need only switch
on a light. The electricity generator would automatically kick in on
demand, and in the light he would have her at his mercy. Her only
protection was darkness. In the darkness she would have the advantage,
for she was accustomed to it.
She had heard the nightjar and the owl calling so she knew that night
had fallen, and it was probable that the raincloud still blanketed moon
and stars. Darkness was out there in the forest. She must get out of
the house, and try to reach the servants quarters.
She hurried through the rooms towards the rear of the house, and as she
went she thought of a weapon. The firearms were locked in the steel
cabinet in David's office, and the key was with him. She ran through to
the kitchen and her heavy walking-stick was in its place by the door.
She grasped it thankfully and slipped open the door catch.
At that moment she heard the front door crash open, with the lock kicked
in, and she heard Akkers charge heavily into the living-room. She
closed the kitchen door behind her and started across the yard. She
tried not to run, she counted her steps. She must not lose her way. She
must find the track around the kopje to the servants hutments.
Her first landmark was the gate in the fence that ringed the homestead.
Before she reached it she heard the electricity generator throb to life
in the power house beyond the garages. Akkers had found a light switch.
She was slightly off in her direction and she ran into the barbed-wire
fence. Frantically she began to feel her way along it, trying for the
gate. Above her head she heard the buzz and crackle of the element in
one of the arc lamps that lined the fence and could flood the gardens
with light.
Akkers must have found the switch beside the kitchen door, and Debra
realized that she must be bathed in the light of the arcs.
She heard him shout behind her, and knew that he had seen her. At that
moment she found the gate, and with a sob of relief she tore it open and
began to run.
She must get out of the light of the arcs, she must find the darkness.
Light was mortal danger, darkness was sanctuary.
The track forked, left to the pools, right to the hutments. She took
the right-hand path and ran along it.
Behind her she heard the gate clank shut. He was after her.
She counted as she ran, five hundred paces to the rock on the left side
of the path that marked the next fork.
She tripped over it, falling heavily and barking her shins.
She rolled to her knees, and she had lost the walkingstick. She could
not waste precious seconds in searching for it. She groped for the path
and ran on.
Fifty paces and she knew she was on the wrong fork.
This path lead down to the pumphouse, and she was not familiar with it.
It was not one of her regular routes.
She missed a turn and ran into broken ground. She stumbled on until
rank grass wrapped about her ankles and brought her down again, falling
heavily on her side so that she was winded.
She was completely lost, but she knew she was out of the arc lights now.
With luck she was shielded by complete darkness, but her heart was
racing and she felt nauseous with terror.
She tried to control her gulping, sobbing breath, and to listen.
She heard him coming then, pounding footsteps that rang clearly, even on
the rain-soaked earth. He seemed to be coming directly to where she
lay, and she shrank down against the wet earth and she pressed her face
into her arms to hide her face and muffle her breathing.
At the last moment his blundering footsteps passed her closely, and ran
on. She felt sick with relief, but it was premature for abruptly the
footsteps ceased and he was so close she could hear him panting.
He was listening for her, standing close beside where she lay in the
grass. They stayed like that during the long slow passage of minutes.
For Debra it seemed an eternity of waiting, broken at last by his voice.
All! There you are, he giggled, there you are. I can see you. Her
heart jumped with shock, He was closer than she had thought. Almost she
jumped up and began to run again, but some deeper sense restrained her.
I can see you hiding there, he repeated, giggling and snickering. I've
got a big knife here, I'm going to hold you down and cut She quailed in
the grass, listening to the awful obscenities that poured from his
mouth. Then suddenly she realized that she was safe here. She was
covered by the night and the thick grass, and he had lost her. He was
trying to panic her, make her run again and betray her position. She
concentrated all her attention on remaining absolutely still and silent.
Akker's threats and sadistic droolings ended in silence again. He
listened for her with the patience of the hunter, and the long minutes
dragged by.
The ache in her bladder was like a red-hot iron, and she wanted to sob
out loud. Something loathsome crawled out of the wet grass over her
arm. Her skin prickled with fresh horror at the feel of multiple insect
feet on her skin, but she steeled herself not to move.
The thing, scorpion or spider, crawled across her neck and she knew her
nerves would crack within seconds.
Suddenly Akkers spoke again. All right! he said, I'm going back to
fetch a flashlight. . We'll see how far you get then. I'll be back
soon, don't think you'll beat old Akkers. He's forgotten more tricks