where am I continued
My mind screams at the top of its voice. I feel how slow-motion become my view, how the welcoming trunk of Themba my elephant friend leaves me. Dust burst from the ground.
“Gunshots Fuckin gunshots,” I hear my voice.
The sound of diesel vehicles rams like dim reminders through my mind, I am hunted again.
“Hunted, by them that I know, by my friends,” I think.
“I cannot shoot back, I cannot defend myself, I cannot fight to death anymore.” The thought crush through my soul as I dive behind a tree.
I see the young elephant body of Themba run to his herd. I see the Matriarch leading the herd away from the gunfire with her trunk in the air.
“Run Themba run,” I scream at the top of my voice.
My mind flips like a page taken by the wind.
I feel the cramps in my testicles, the switch the fuckin switch I think.
“Seven eight, seven eight,” I scream.
But my voice does not carry it bounces off the walls and get absorbed by the curtains around my bed.
“The white coats, where are the white coats,” I scream.
The gunshots, yes it is the gunshots that jolt me back to the dust and pieces of soil hitting my face. My body is on autopilot crawling towards the river. Crawling away from the brutal attack.
"Koevoet,” My inner mind now interrupts.
“Yes,” I think,” Koevoet the military police border patrol. They are ruthless.
“Why are they shooting at us?” my mind asks, while my hands and arms crawl and dive behind the trees.
“We are...,” I stop for a second, “I am an unauthorised entry, they picked our tracks up, my tracks I mean. They do not take prisoners,” I complete my answer, while I dive over the embankment into the crocodile infested water.
“We have to outmaneuver them,” I scream with a whisper to my mind.
My mind does not answer perhaps he is scared because he knows these guys. He knows that they are ruthless and well-trained.
Algorithms run through my mind calculating survival rate, or shall I rather say possibilities of survival. Training schedules and history of the Koevoet that now chasing me. Water temperature and feeding patterns of the crocodiles, the area and the number of beasts flash through my mind.
I am now drifting down the river, attempting to get to the other side without a bullet ending my quest. I know that the eyes attached to the log type creatures are safe, as long as they do not dive under the water. They normally feed and attack from below. I cannot afford my mind to loose reality for a second as that will be my death.
It's raining bullets across the water as the machine guns rattle from the diesel vehicles. Crocodiles scatter to safety and I sink my head under to hide. I know that the vehicles cannot cross the river at this point. and that will be my route to possible survival.