2:53:41
People didn’t say kaffir anymore. It didn’t fit the times, Gerrit van Lange was thinking when the dog started its attack. The group’s mood instantly changed. From the baffled astonishment that had descended when the idiot had appeared to this tension that didn’t bode well for a leaderless unit. Too late, he caught sight of his son, in his own state of tension, trying to compensate for that state by reaching behind his back. He was still so young. Don’t do it, Gerrit van Lange thought. His eyes flitted across the part of the group he could see without turning his head. The young policewoman was watching Stevie, as she pulled her pistol out of her holster with shaking hands. Van Lange tried to comprehend what both movements meant, but the distance between them was too great. He registered the dog, which was now strangely airborne. Floating. A frozen image. He saw Stevie only as a particle, his movement, his step backward, because he couldn’t take his eyes off the police officer. Whose weapon was pointed at his son. Gerrit van Lange shoved his right hand under his flowing shirt as he sprang forward. Two people were between him and the officer. As he fell, he twisted around as he’d been taught in the army. The fall seriously hurt his shoulder, but by the time he hit the pavement, he had already squeezed off his shot.
2:53:19
The pig. They should shoot him in his tracks. From behind his ornamental bush, Moses watched the group of people caught in lethargy. Why weren’t they doing anything? He had murdered a person. The white man had slaughtered him. Him, Moses. Why wasn’t anyone furious? Why were they just standing there? The only one moving was the man with the dog that was blocked from his line of sight. He was doing something with the animal. That was the second it dashed off. Moses saw its front and back paws push off the pavement, again and then again. One last time and the dog was leaping at his target. Something was happening after all. At least, he had understood that much. The white man still hadn’t grasped that, hadn’t even raised his hands to fend off the teeth that were a second away from ripping his skin. A millisecond and vengeance would be achieved, Moses thought. He didn’t hear the shot until his eyes saw its devastation. Just like your senses can betray you if everything falls apart in your life. The dog continued to fly through the air toward the white man, slamming into him like the fist of a powerful boxer. Moses then heard the shot, and then another, and then another. And as these first shots catalyzed what followed, he threw himself back down on his stomach.
91
“She still isn’t completely cold,” Nozipho said.
“I know.”
Nozipho was lying on top of Thembinkosi, stomach to stomach. She had wrapped her bare arms around him, shoulders pressed against the freezer wall.
“She also isn’t completely dry,” Thembinkosi said.
“Yuck. And it’s so cold in here.”
“It was too hot a moment ago. You saved us.”
The garage door opened.
“Psst,” Nozipho hissed into Thembinkosi’s ear.
“Garage.”
“Freezer.”
“Leave it.”
“We’re supposed to check everywhere.”
“Don’t overdo it. Come on.”
The door again. Both of them exhaled.
“You saved us,” Thembinkosi repeated.
“We’re not out yet. Where’s the briefcase?”
“In the wardrobe.”
“Shit.”
“And your purse?”
“Also in the wardrobe.”
“They’ll find them.”
“Nonsense. They’re looking for people, not bags. They won’t even touch them.”
“But how can we get out of here now?”
“The back door.”
“In the kitchen?”
“Uh-huh. Simple lock.”
“But they’re still in the house, aren’t they?”
“No idea. I’m so cold.”
92
“I’ll be right there,” Warren Kramer had said as he left the control room.
Happiness had been working at Meyer Investment for only a few months, but she was already well-versed in her supervisor’s language. The boss had to go somewhere. Translated as: See, I have everything under control.
That was fine with her. She now had one less gated community to supervise. She was in the process of following a couple of young men in overalls in Paradise on Sea in Nahoon. They were on foot in the newest subdivision in her monitor group. Some of the houses there had views of the ocean, others were located on the golf course. One of the two men was carrying a ladder over his shoulder, and both of them were carrying empty backpacks. There was no white boss anywhere in sight who was telling them what to do. It was quite late to start a new job. The digital clock on the monitors read 2:52. Where were the two of them heading? A ladder could mean roof work, tree cutting, or burglary. She was now switching between the cameras in Paradise on Sea to try to find them again.
There they were. Three o’clock in the afternoon. That was definitely too late to start a job. She was now certain that the two men were wandering around all on their own. What should she do?
Call Warren? He was in The Pines, and it was a real mess over there. Old van Lange and his son were both there already, so maybe she should call someone at Central Alert. Or the police.
She was picking up the receiver from the desk phone when her eyes fell on the monitor on which the words “The Pines” had been written in marker. A large group of people had gathered near an intersection, and they were waiting on something. Central Alert, the police, others. She recognized the two van Langes. The camera was shooting the group from the side, and straight down the road on which it was trained stood that guy Warren Kramer was always griping about. What would he say if he saw him now?
Right: recreational security. The white man was standing a bit apart from the group, and somehow she had the feeling that all the others were watching him.
Happiness typed in the code that gave this camera priority status. She had to look closely to verify that the video stream hadn’t crashed. Nobody in the group seemed to be moving. She now noticed one of the cops leaning down slightly. She couldn’t tell what he was doing, because he was partially blocked by some of the others. Then a collective shiver seemed to go through the group, and something shot out of it.
It took Happiness a moment to realize that the thing was a dog. He was sprinting toward the white man Kramer was always making fun of. The dog then launched himself at the man as everything happened simultaneously. The young van Lange, who was standing closer to the white guy than most of the others, was suddenly holding something in his hand. A little flash of lightning shot out of the end of it. The dog then collided with the white guy. The young van Lange crumpled, as the dog took down the white guy. She recognized old van Lange as he dove onto the pavement. A female cop also collapsed. Another police officer bent over van Lange, and the Central Alert boss convulsed a few times.