They had to be careful not to become victims of friendly fire. Dog man pointed at his chest, then down the side of the house. They were standing behind the house in front of which the whites had taken up their positions. Hlaudi nodded and indicated to the other man that he was going to go down the other side of the house.
That was it in terms of discussion between dog man and him. Be cautious, see what was going on at the wall, shoot. The people on this side wouldn’t be waiting for them. They had enough to do simply trying to survive.
He crouched down behind a bush with colorful flowers. Both sides were firing. As he leaned against the wall of the house, he could feel the bullet strikes. He slowly extended his head forward and saw five men. All stretched out on the ground. Two of them had obvious head wounds, another was wounded, possibly dead. Two were still firing. Hlaudi pulled his head back. Concentrated. When he stuck it back out again, he wanted to take a shot. Hand extended, head behind it. There were now fewer shots being fired. Reloading. Empty clips.
He could now see that three of them were dead. Nonverbal communication between the two survivors. He couldn’t make out about what. He aimed at the blonde man in the polo shirt.
Fired.
In the back of his head.
The man in shorts turned around and took two bullets instantly. One of his and one of dog man’s. Slumped to the side.
“Cease fire!” dog man called. “Cease fire!”
Wait. No sound. Hlaudi peered around the house corner and saw dog man doing the same thing. Both of them flashed a thumb’s up. All clear. They moved to the front of the house.
They didn’t notice that the man in shorts was still moving a little. He raised his pistol and fired at dog man’s heart.
Dog man collapsed. Hlaudi spun around at the same moment and fired two more rounds into the man on the ground. With that, his police pistol was empty.
98
“You have blood on your shoes,” Thembinkosi pointed out as he took the briefcase from Nozipho.
“That’s okay,” she said. “It’ll come off. Let’s get out of here. Where are the shots coming from?”
“Over there,” Thembinkosi said. “We need to go in the other direction, anyway.”
“We look like shit.”
“We can’t do anything about it. I feel better than I did in the wardrobe or the freezer. Even if my suit’s going to be stained after this. Come on…” He wiped his forehead with his suit sleeve.
They slipped around the next house and froze when they reached the street. Looked both ways.
Nozipho straightened Thembinkosi’s jacket. “Let’s first head over to the outer wall.” She pointed across the street at the next row of houses. “I’d feel better over there. The further I am from that house, the better I’ll feel. And then we can follow the wall. To the exit.”
99
Moses stopped at the next cross street. Knocked the dirt off his pants and t-shirt. Behind him, the gunfire sounded like a full-blown war. Had all this happened because of him? Couldn’t be, he thought.
The house across the street looked empty. He ran to the other side of the street and stopped once he’d passed it. Checked out the next house and sprinted to the next street. The house in front of him wasn’t empty. He saw a woman in the lounge, but her back was turned toward him. Didn’t matter anymore, he thought. He had to keep going. He had to get out. To the wall, then on to the exit. And then… Something had to work out.
Past the house. To the outer wall. Had he already been here today? Definitely. He had been everywhere already. He briefly crouched down and tried to see down the long stretch between the wall and the houses. All the way to the end. Then to the right, and somewhere past that point the exit had to be located. The view in both directions was free and clear. Of course, people could be concealed behind the walls, hedges, and bushes.
He would have to solve that problem if it arose.
Moses set off. Jumped over a hedge. Then over a wall. Then over another one that was high. Could feel how heavy his legs were by now.
Be careful, he warned himself. The wall he was approaching was fairly tall again, and he jumped with all the strength that remained in him. Was already focusing on the next obstacle.
He had hardly landed before he took off again. The blow was so powerful that it knocked all the air out of him. No feeling inside, no thought. End of existence. No god was strong enough to withstand an assault like this. Right into his stomach.
His supporting leg had just been searching for and had found the ground. The other was still in the air and had wanted to carry his body a few meters more. The counter-force drove him back in the direction he’d just come. For an eternity, Moses hung in the air, almost weightless, but then he crumpled to the ground.
“Pig!” someone yelled.
Shit! thought Moses as blood once again surged through his brain.
It was him again. And now he finally had the better cards. The club was already rushing down at him. Moses wanted to vomit.
100
“Come again?” the female voice from Central said.
“What do you mean they’re all dead?”
“I mean that they’re all dead.”
“Slowly. Are you Warrant Officer Mafu?”
“Yes.”
“The break-in at the gated community.”
“The whites started it.”
“What?” the woman asked. “They shot first.”
“Officer… Are you really Warrant Officer Mafu?”
“It’s the whites’ fault.”
“But who are the whites?”
“The whites… are the whites!”
“And now everyone’s dead.”
“Yes.”
“Who’s dead?”
“Bezuidenhout.”
“The Warrant Officer?”
“Yes.”
“He’s white.”
“Dead.” Who else?”
“Baker. Constable Baker.”
“Dead?” Dead.”
“Who killed her?”
“The whites.”
“But Bezuidenhout is also white.”
“Yes.”
“And who killed him?”
“The dog handler.”
“Inspector Dlomo?”
“Yes.”
“And where is he?”
“Dead.”
“And who killed him?”
“The whites.”
101
“Police,” Nozipho said. “It’s the police.” She pointed down the wall at a group of people.
“Shit!” Thembinkosi said. “We need to disappear in the other direction.”
“They’ve already seen us.”
A young woman in uniform waved at them. “Over here.”
They slowly turned toward the officer behind whom the others were gathered.
“Okay. Better than being shot to pieces in the wardrobe,” Thembinkosi said.
“We weren’t shot to pieces.”
“We almost were.”
“Now we’ll just do what we’d planned all along.”
“Didn’t you get a phone call?” the officer asked once they reached her.
In a cul de sac that ended at the wall, several garbage collectors were standing around, their large truck parked a short distance behind them. As well as a mail carrier, a heavyset woman in a green smock, two boys in overalls, and a couple of people in civilian clothing. The stench of rotting garbage stood over the scene like a tent.
“Must’ve missed it,” Thembinkosi said. “Why?”