Griessel blasted a path through the traffic with his hooter and turned from Annandale into Upper Orange. A man in a fucking yellow Humvee gave him the finger, two cars had to brake sharply as he raced over the crossing. Vusi clutched the handle above the door, speechless.
Benny sped, on, accelerating out of the corner. They were nearly there. A madman in a big silver panel van came racing downhill in the middle of the road. Benny hooted again and swerved out of the way. He caught a glimpse of the driver's face, a young asshole with a fierce expression, then he looked up at the street ahead, which was suddenly empty. He changed down a gear, flattened the accelerator, engine protesting, another gear change, charged up the hill. This was his territory, his flat was only one block away in fucking Vriende Street; stupid bloody name, he still thought so. De Waal Park to the right, then Vusi said, 'It's just up there,' and they crested the rise. They both saw the Corsa at the same time, and neither spoke, because from the angle it had stopped, something was not right.
The single cab bakkie drove right in front of him, reversing out of a driveway from the left side of the street. Griessel slammed on the brakes and the Opel nose-dived, rubber screeched and smoked, and he skidded until the left wheels struck the kerb. 'Fuck,' he said smelling the burning rubber, jerked the Opel back, just missing the Toyota's front fender. He saw the man behind the wheel's big, wild, shocked eyes. Griessel looked at the Corsa, was the window smashed? He swung across the road and stopped behind the small white car, leapt out and heard the Toyota racing away towards the city. He glanced quickly after it, fucking asshole. He noted the street number on the wooden gate. Number 6. Bullet casing, he smelled cordite. Trouble here, bullet holes in the windscreen and the driver's window and there was someone behind the wheel, fuck, fuck.
'It's Mbali,' Vusi shouted as he pulled open the other door.
Griessel saw her head on her chest, blood on the headrest. He pulled open the door. 'Jissis,' Griessel said, trying to feel her neck for a pulse. His fingers slipped in the blood. He saw the wound below her ear, bits of jaw, white chips and a pulsing vein pumping out thick red fluid.
'Get the ambulance! She's alive!' He shouted louder than he meant to, his heart racing. He gently pulled her by the shoulder, until he had her turned over with her back to him, then he put his hands under her arms and felt more blood lower down. Carefully he pulled her out of the car and laid her on the pavement. Vusi came running around the car with his cell phone in his hand.
Two wounds, but the one in the side of her head was bleeding the most. He got up quickly and felt for his handkerchief, found it, bent beside Mbali Kaleni and pressed the hanky against the hole. He heard Vusi talking urgently over the phone. He swapped the hand holding the handkerchief and got hold of his phone, hearing a car skid around the corner in Belmont at great speed, he couldn't turn in time, just saw the tail, something. He looked at Kaleni, she wasn't going to make it, the ambulance would take too long.
'Help me,' he said to Vusi, 'I'm taking her myself.'
Vusi knelt beside him and said calmly, 'Benny they're on their way.'
'Jissis, Vusi, are you sure?' as he searched his phone for the Caledon Square number.
'They know it's a policewoman. They're coming.'
Griessel pressed the hanky harder. Mbali Kaleni moved, a jerk of the head. 'Mbali,' he said in despair.
She opened her eyes. Looked far away, then focused on him. 'The ambulance is coming, Mbali,' he wanted to encourage her: 'You're going to make it.'
She made a noise.
'Take it easy, take it easy, they'll be here soon.'
Vusi picked up Mbali's hand. He talked quietly to her in an African language. Griessel noted the small Xhosa man's calmness and thought Vusi might not be hardass, but he was strong.
Mbali was trying to say something. He felt her jaw moving under his hand, he saw the blood running out of her mouth. 'No, no, don't talk now; the ambulance will be here soon.'
He looked up at the house. 'Vusi, you will have to see what's going on inside there.' The black detective nodded, jumped up and ran. Griessel looked at Mbali. Her eyes were on him, pleading. He held the hanky tight against her neck, realising he still had his phone in the other hand. He phoned the station. They needed more people. Mbali Kaleni's eyes closed.
Chapter 34
At first she was only aware of the noise, voices shouting, the high revving of an engine. Then she felt the pain in her face and she wanted to put a hand over it, but she couldn't. There was the sensation of movement, a loss of balance, a vehicle turning sharply, accelerating.
Then she remembered everything and she jerked.
'The bitch is waking up,' one of them said. She tried to open her eyes, she wanted to see, but she could not. One eye was swollen shut, the other would not focus, her vision was blurred. Four people were holding her down. The pressure on her arms and legs was too much, too heavy, too painful.
'Please,' she said.
'Fuck you.' The words were spat out with hatred, flecks of saliva spattered her face. A cell phone rang shrilly.
'It's the Big Guy,' said a voice she knew.
'Fuck.' Another familiar voice. 'Tell him.' She flicked her eyes across, but could not see them, only the four holding her. They were all looking forward now.
'Jesus. OK.' Then: 'Mr B, it's Steve. The fucking bitch stabbed Eben ... No, he was with Robert, on the back door ... It's bad, chief ... No, no, he's with Rob in the bakkie, you'll have to call him ... OK. Yes, it's here ... No ... OK, hang on ... The boss wants to know what's in the bag ...'
The one holding her leg let go. 'Here, take it,' he said and then she kicked him with all her might, struck him somewhere.
'Fuck!' A heavy blow against her head, her leg clamped fast again, and she screamed, in frustration, pain, fury and fear. She fought wildly, straining her arms and legs to break free, but it was no good.
Vusi came running, Griessel could hear his hasty steps.
'Benny, there's an old man inside. He's been shot, but he's alive.'
'An old man, you say?'
'Yes, wounded in the chest, through the lung, I think.'
'Nobody else?'
'Nobody.'
'Fuck.'
Then suddenly and clearly, the wail of an ambulance.
'You do that again, I'll shoot you in the fucking leg, you hear me?'