"Right, turn right that's it. Hold that course." He was lined up on the white glare of a small salt-pan a few miles ahead, and the surface under them seemed firm and reasonably fast. The Land-Rover accelerated away, barging through the low thorn scrub, weaving only when they came to coarser thorn or one of the stunted trees. Craig called corrections after every deviation.
They were making twenty-five miles an hour and it was clear as far as the horizon. The pursuing trucks, heavy and cumbersome, couldn't outrun them, Craig was sure, and the border was less than an hour ahead, darkness not far off. That cup of tea had cheered him, and Craig felt his spirits lift.
"All right, you bastards, come and get us!"he challenged the unseen enemy and laughed into the wind. He had forgotten the way adrenalin buzzed in the blood when danger was close. Once he had thrived on the feel of it, and the addiction was still there, he realized.
PP
L He swivelled and looked back, and saw it immediately likea little willy, willy the dust devils that dance on the desert in the hot stillness of midday, but this dust cloud was moving with purpose, and it was exactly where he had expected to find it, due east of them and coming fast down the road they had just left.
"I have one patrol in sight," he leaned out and shouted down to the open driver's window. "They are about five miles behind." Then he looked back again, and grimaced at their own dust cloud thrown up by the four-wheel drive. It followed them likea bridal train and hung for minutes after they had passed, a long pale smear above the scrub. They could hardly miss it. He was watching the dust when he should have been looking ahead. The ant-bear hole was screened from the driver's view by the pale desert grass. They hit it at twenty-five miles an hour, and it stopped them dead.
Craig was hurled forward off the roof, flying out over the bonnet to hit the earth with his elbows and his knees and the side of his face. He lay in the dust, stunned and hurting. Then he rolled into a sitting position and spat muddy blood from his mouth. He checked his teeth with his tongue, and they were all firm. There was no skin on his elbows, and blood seeped through the knees of his jeans. He fumbled at the strap of his leg and it was intact.
He dragged himself to his feet.
The Land-Rover was4ilown heavily on her left front, chassis deep in the h*le. He limped to the passenger side, cursing his own inattention, and jerked the door open.
The windscreen was cracked and starred where Sally, Anne's head had hit, and she was slumped forward in the seat.
"Oh God! he whispered, and lifted her head gently.
There was a lump the size of a blue acorn over her eye, but when he touched her cheek, her vision focused and she looked at him.
"Are you hurt badly?" She struggled upright. "You are bleeding," she mumbled, likea drunk.
"It's a graze," he reassured her, and squeezed her arm, looking across her at Timon.
His mouth had struck the steering-wheel, his upper lip was cut through and one of his incisors had broken off at the gum. His mouth was full of blood, and he staunched it with the silk scarf.
"Get her in reverse," Craig ordered him, and pulled Sally-Anne from the cab to lighten the vehicle. She staggered a few paces and flopped down on her backside, still groggy and confused from the head blow.
The engine had stalled, and it baulked at the starter while Craig fretted and watched the dust cloud behind them. It was no longer distant, and it was coming on fast.
t ast the engine caught, stuttered and then roared as Timon trod too heavily on the pedal. He let out the clutch with a bang, and all four wheels spun wildly.
"Easy, man, you'll break a half shaft Craig snarled at him.
Timon tried again, more gently, but again the wheels spun, blowing out dust behind them, and the vehicle roe I ked crazily but remained bogged down.
Stop it! Craig pounded Timon's shoulder to make him obey. The spinning wheels in the soft earth were digging the Land-Rover into its own grave. Craig dropped on his belly and peered under the chassis. The left front wheel had dropped into the hole, and was turning in air; the weight of the vehicle rested on the blades of the front suspension.
"Trenching-tool, "Craig called to Timon.
"We left them," Timon reminded him, and Craig went at the earth on the rim of the hole with his bare hands.
"Find something to dig with!" He kept on digging frantically.
lit J, LI Timon hunted in the back locker and brought him the jack handle and a broad-bladed pan ga Craig attacked the edge of the hole with them, grunting and panting, his own sweat stinging the open graze on his cheek.
The radio jabbered. "They have found the spot where we left the road,"Timon translated.
"Christ!" Craig sobbed with effort, that was less than two miles back.
"Can I help you?" Timon was lisping through the gap in his teeth.
Craig did not bother to reply. There was only room for one man at a time to work under the chassis. The earth crumbled and the Land-Rover subsided a few inches, and then the free tyre found purchase in the bottom of the hole. Craig turned his attention to the sharp edge of the hole, cutting it away in a ramp so that it would not block the wheel.
Sally Anne you get behind the steering wheel He spoke jerkily between each blow with the pan ga "Timon and I will try to lift the front." He crawled out from under the body, and wasted a -second to look back. The dust of the pursuit was clearly visible from ground level. "Come on, Timon." They stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the radiator, and bent their knees to get a good grip on the front fender.
Sally-Anne sat behind the dugt-smeared windscreen. The lump on her forehead l*oked likea huge, blue, bloodsucking tick clinging to her pale skin. She stared at Craig through the glass, her eyes and her expression desperate.