The Disappeared (48 page)

‘They’re
coming to get me,’ Jansen said, his voice barely audible through the sobbing.
Coetzee led him to an empty cubicle. His training and common sense told him he
needed to lock up Jansen with Robert John Visser. But he was suddenly overcome
with a searing compassion for the broken policeman. Coetzee tucked his pistol
into his belt and made Jansen sit down.

‘Willie, I’m
going to give you some time to cool off,
oraait
? And think things over.
But I am going to have to restrain you, you understand?’ Jansen nodded meekly.
Coetzee pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He snapped one loop around Jansen’s
wrist and attached the other to the metal bar that served as a footrest. ‘Look
here, this doesn’t have to be –’

‘Oh my God!’
Maureen Sacks was standing her hands covering her mouth. ‘They’re gone.’
Everyone turned to her. Surprised. Puzzled. ‘The Lovisas. They’re gone.’

Doctor
Tenebaum sat in silence in the small confined space that had been prepared as
an ad hoc office. He removed the steel-rimmed spectacles from his face and
massaged his eyes with great care. Sleep deprivation and the never-ending
stress of the last few weeks were beginning to take their toll. He was
struggling to concentrate and even the most menial tasks had become Olympic
challenges. He replaced his glasses and stared at the screen of the laptop perched
on the steel Government-Issue desk. The contents of his weekly report stared
back at him. It seemed flat and perfunctory. Lacking the usual insight and
deductive brilliance he would bring to these tasks.

Enough. He
needed a break. He stood up and stretched out languidly. He considered taking a
walk outside, taking some time to enjoy the African sun. In his home state of Michigan,
the season was beginning to turn. Soon there would be only the flinching cold
of a mid-western winter. He wondered what the weather was like outside. This
being a high-security compound, none of the rooms had any windows. It was just
one more factor that added to his stress levels. The feeling of being locked up
in the bowels of the earth – cut off from the world outside. It was no way for
a human to live.

‘Enough is
enough,’ he said to himself. He was going to take an extended stroll outside
and enjoy the lush vegetation that surrounded the compound.

Doctor Saul
Tenenbaum reached for his security card next to the notebook. The old woman who
was fighting for her life stared back at him. Amidst the contents of a hastily
assembled dossier lay her photograph. Doctor Tenenbaum paused. Her resemblance
to his late mother – God bless her soul – was striking. And unsettling.

Elsa
Werner. Beloved wife and mother. Survivor of the Buchenwald concentration camp.
And final victim of a virulent strain of the pneumococcal bacterium. What began
as pneumonia ended as an excruciating form of meningitis. A slow sadistic
death. The young Doctor Tenenbaum who was busy conquering the medical world was
vanquished by a little microscopic killer. The mighty Doctor Tenenbaum saw his
beloved mother vomit her life away. Saw her sink into delirium. Into the
clutches of a coma. And then death. The young Jewish doctor had done everything
in his considerable ability to save his mother. He had pushed himself way
beyond the limits of human endurance. And yet. Upon her death – and forever
afterwards – he couldn’t help but punish himself. For a lack of effort. For a
misguided treatment.

Doctor
Tenenbaum was not so exhausted to recognise that his efforts to save the old
woman in the ward below was a vicarious attempt to save his own mother’s life. Or
at least to acquit himself in his own mind. He saw so much of his mother in the
retired nurse now occupying the only bed in the compound’s specialised ER wing.
The same uncompromising fighting spirit. The same lines on her face that spoke
of a life tempered by hard times. He had to save her. It was imperative.

The
decision to keep a round-the-clock vigil by her bedside had been his. And
although he was beginning to reach the end of his tether, he did not regret the
decision. If he could save her life there would be a small part of his soul
that would find peace ... and consolation. He was not too tired to know that
this was true without the benefit of an over-priced therapist.

Unfortunately
things were not looking good. The old woman had been exposed to just enough of
the diabolical X9 compound to place her life in serious jeopardy. So much so
that even if she were to survive she would carry the scars and consequences for
the rest of her life. That is if she were to survive at all. The possibility of
which looked slim ... and almost hopeless.

The doctor
sighed as he slipped the security card into the pocket of his white lab coat.
All he could do was try his best. The rest was up to Yahweh.

The
intercom next to the door beeped. It was followed by static. And then a voice. ‘Doctor
Tenenbaum?’

The doctor
depressed the green button on the system. ‘Yes.’

‘Doctor,
you asked me to inform you the moment there was a change in the patient’s
vitals.’

‘Yes,’ Saul
Tenenbaum said, intrigued.

‘Doctor.’
The speaker paused. In the background Doctor Tenenbaum could hear him
consulting someone. ‘Doctor, the patient’s recovered. She’s awake.’

Saul
Tenenbaum took his finger from the green transmission button.

Rest in
peace Elsa Werner.

Joshua saw his
opportunity. And didn’t hesitate.

The commotion
caused by the Lovisas’s disappearance had caused the distraction he needed. He
and Duggan had arranged with Thabo and Joyce Mohapi to cause a similar
distraction. Joyce was to faint while Thabo caused the biggest brouhaha since
the storming of the Bastille. But now it was no longer necessary. Joshua rushed
over to Lindiwe. ‘We’re going, right now.’ He looked over at the group
assembled around Maureen Sacks. ‘Duggan is going with me. I’m kinda glad. I was
never good at reading maps.’

‘I’m going
with you.’

Lindiwe’s
words stunned Joshua. During this entire time he had never even considered
taking her with them. The possibility of danger was simply too big. The last
thing he wanted was for harm to come to her because of a decision he had made. ‘Baby,
I don’t know.’

‘I am coming
with you.’ She spoke with a resolute firmness that surprised him. ‘Every time
someone leaves that door, something bad happens. I’m not going to let you
leave, just to never see you again.’

‘But what if
it’s dangerous over there? I don’t know if I wanna expose you to –’

‘I’ve made up
my mind, Joshua. If it’s going to happen to you, then it’s going to happen to
me too. I would rather die with you ... than live without you.’

Her words
reverberated through his entire being. They stunned him. And electrified him.
He reached over and kissed her fiercely. Tasting her. Absorbing her. Becoming
one with her. ‘Let’s go. Before it’s too late.’

Lindiwe looked
over at Minki. ‘Please Josh, I can’t just leave without saying goodbye.’

Joshua sighed
in exasperation. ‘Lindiwe, we don’t have time.’

‘I won’t even
be a minute, I promise,’ she said, already walking towards the cubicle where
Minki was lying on Katya Vladislavic. She flashed Joshua an apologetic smile
over her shoulder. He rolled his eyes and tapped impatiently on the bar
counter. ‘Minki?’Lindiwe slid into the padded bench next to Minki. ‘Poppet, how
are you?’Minki smiled wanly but said nothing. Lindiwe looked at a tired looking
Katya. ‘Listen poppet, I want you to be a brave girl for me. I need to go with
Joshua, to help him ... so that we can all be safe, you understand.’ Minki
turned away from Lindiwe, burying herself in the folds of Katya’s dress. ‘I
know I haven’t been very nice today. I know I didn’t take care of you the way I
should have. But I really have to do this. I wish I could take you with me, but
I don’t think it’s a good idea.’ Minki remained unmoved. ‘Poppet, I have to go
now. But I’m coming right back for you, you hear me, Minks?’ Lindiwe stroked
her hair tenderly. ‘And remember that I love you. I always will.’ She kissed
the little girl’s head. She looked into Katya Vladislavic’s eyes and squeezed
her hand. ‘Katya.’ The old woman nodded and smiled softly. Lindiwe slid out
from the cubicle. When she was halfway towards Joshua she felt a tug on her
dress. Minki stood before her. She held out her arms. Lindiwe bent down and
hugged her tightly, tears flowing from her eyes.

‘Lindi, you
will always be my best friend. Always.’

‘You too, baby,
you too.’

‘Lindi?’

Lindiwe
released her. ‘Yes, poppet?’

‘Please be
careful.’

Lindiwe nodded
wiping tears from her eyes. ‘I will. I promise.’

And with that
the little girl turned her back and squeezed into the bench next to Katya
again. Lindiwe turned around. Moira walked out from behind the counter and
stood before her. She held both her hands. ‘I love you, girl. Good luck.’ She
embraced Lindiwe both women crying without inhibition.

‘Holy shit,
can you possibly make it any more obvious.’ Joshua was shifting impatiently,
running an agitated hand through his hair. He looked over at Coetzee who was
standing with Maureen Sacks.

‘Don’t worry,
Mr Grumpy, I’m coming.’ Lindiwe and Moira shared one last look. Then she joined
Joshua.

‘Okay, let’s
go.’

‘Wait. Shouldn’t
we leave some kind of message? I don’t want Inspector Coetzee to think we’ve
abandoned them. I want them to know we’re coming back.’

‘Lindiwe.’
Joshua stared at her sternly grabbed her hand and walked towards the entrance. ‘Don’t
worry about it,’ Joshua said looking over at the Mohapis. ‘It’s already taken
care of. Let’s go. Now!’ He grabbed her hand and nonchalantly yet forcefully
walked her out of the restaurant. Duggan was already waiting outside.

And so. Unseen
by everyone. They walked out into the soft darkness of a Free State spring
evening. Lindiwe and Joshua walked westwards, while Duggan ran behind the
police van parked in front of the restaurant. Behind one of its wheels he had
stashed a large canvas bag that contained the flashlight, wire cutters, bolt
cutters, a pair of binoculars and several other items that may come in handy.
He rushed to join Lindiwe and Joshua.

‘Come! There’s
no time to waste,’ Joshua said. They began running. Slowly at first. And then.
Enthused by youth and madness and a sense of exquisite purpose, they sprinted like
lunatics into the dark night. Joshua and Duggan whooped and shouted while
Lindiwe laughed with huge careless joy. The world had fallen apart around them.
They had all lost so much. And there was no guarantee that a dreadful fate did
not also await them – as it had the others. But as they ran ... none of these
things mattered. There was only freedom. And hope. And joy. And love.

Eventually as
they reached the outskirts of the town, they collapsed on someone’s lawn,
laughing and fighting for breath. For a brief moment they allowed themselves
the luxury of lying on the grass and staring up at the dazzling night sky where
a hundred billion stars watched over them. Then they rose and turned towards
their objective. They were about half a kilometre from the foot of the
mountain. From their vantage point the Obsidian compound was a mere geometric
shape in the dark, obscured by trees. Joshua who was standing in the middle looked
at Lindiwe then Duggan. ‘Good luck, guys.’

‘Fully,’
Duggan said slapping Joshua on the back. For a moment longer they stared at the
dark behemoth that loomed before them. And then began their journey. Up the
mountain. Towards their fate.

Inspector Jan
Coetzee of the Bishop police precinct watched Joshua and Lindiwe walk out of
the Abbot restaurant. He was of course aware of Joshua’s intrepid plan. With
all of its attendant dramatics it was difficult not to be.

Jan Coetzee
could have stopped them. Maybe he should have. Maybe he should have quit the
police force all those years ago. Maybe he should have worn his favourite pair
of blue boxer shorts that day. It was all the same really. Because when a man
has reached the point in his life that Coetzee had reached at that moment, all
decisions – profound and inane – become one and the same.

Inspector
Coetzee had faced many adversaries and challenges in his life. Nigerian drug
lords. Human traffickers. Cash-in-transit robbers. Petty criminals. Drunk
drivers. Corrupt and bigoted politicians – both pre and post Liberation. Even
aspirant Satanists. Yes. He had faced them all. And to lesser or greater
degrees he had triumphed. Simply because he refused to admit defeat. But now.
After a day of bizarre anomaly. And tragic occurrence. Now. After an elderly
couple simply disappeared into thin air, apparently right before the eyes of a
dozen people. Now. After the Lovisas had vanished without explanation or means.
Now. Inspector Jan Coetzee admitted defeat. If anybody had bothered to enquire,
they may have gauged exactly the astonishing degree to which Coetzee felt
himself to be defeated. Which is maybe just as well that no-one did. For they
would have been disturbed indeed to realise that the man who had assumed the
mantle of leader for the greater part of the day had comprehensively abandoned
all hope. Waving a tattered white flag to the colossal forces of fate and
destiny. Inspector Coetzee was defeated. And he didn’t give a damn anymore who
knew it. Which is why – when he became aware of Joshua’s madcap plan – he had
simply feigned ignorance. And let it be. He would of course never insist that
anybody attempt the very thing which Joshua and Lindiwe and Duggan now
endeavoured to achieve. It was too risky. Almost suicidal. But at the same time
he was not going to stop them. All he could do now was wait. And pray. And
pray. And pray. The fate of all the remaining survivors now rested in the hands
of three youths. God be with them. And God help them all.

Moira
approached Coetzee. She looked worried. Drawn. Exhausted. She looked the way
Coetzee felt. Moira pulled him aside. ‘Inspector?’

Inspector Jan
Coetzee tried to pull himself together. Despite his mammoth sense of surrender the
commanding officer in him still had strength enough for one last round. Paltry.
Yes. But it was something. ‘Yes, Moira.’

‘Inspector, I
think something is wrong with Robert John. I’ve been knocking for the last few
minutes. I wanted to know if he wanted something to drink. Or eat. But there’s
no reply, at all.’ As if to pre-empt his response, Moira held up the keys to
the gate and the office door. Without saying a word Coetzee took the keys and
proceeded to the office. He unlocked the bared gate and swung it open. He
knocked on the door.

‘Robert.’ His
voice seemed to drift through a fog. Originating at a point light years away. ‘Robert?
I’m going to open the door.’ There was no reply. Coetzee looked at Moira and
indicated for her to move aside. Coetzee slowly swung open the door. And was not
at all astonished by the sight that greeted him.

Robert John
Visser was gone.

Yes indeed.
God help them all.

Passing
through the wild grass that bordered the properties at the edge of town, Joshua
and his entourage hit the foot of the mountain and began scaling the slope. The
gradient was slight and the going was relatively easy. The wild grass at the
foot of the mountain was now replaced by a hardier strain. Thick and short and
interspersed with explosions of sturdy brush and low bushes. Gnarled thorn
trees clung to the surface like desperate scarecrows.

They gradually
moved further and further up the slope. As they climbed higher, boulders and
jagged rocks increasingly littered the slope, making their ascent – especially
in the dark – awkward and precarious. At various places, sharp angular outcrops
of rock obstructed their way, forcing them at times to perform strange and near
hilarious acrobatics.

Joshua had
allowed Duggan to take the lead while he hung back. Keeping an eye on Lindiwe’s
progress. As they made their laborious way up the side of the mountain, Joshua
thought back on the day behind him. He could scarcely believe that only a few
hours ago he had awoken in this strange little town. And that his life had
changed so utterly in such a short space of time. He thought about all the
events of the last few days and the convoluted series of events that had
brought him to this strange and tragic place. So beautiful yet so horrific. He
thought of his brother and his mom. And he wondered if he would ever see them
again. He looked back at the little town that lay below. Completely dark save
for a little halo of light that Joshua assumed must have been the restaurant.
From up here, Bishop looked like a graveyard for houses. A cemetery with paved
streets and sticks of unlit street lamps.

From nowhere,
a Tanita Tikaram song floated through his mind. It’s mood seemed appropriate.
Slow
genocide
. Yes. She knew it.

Joshua looked
at Lindiwe. He couldn’t believe that only a short while ago he had run into a
girl outside a bottle store. Most of all he found it hard to believe that he
had developed such intense feelings for her so very quickly. A few hours ago
she was a complete stranger. And now. Now she was the virtual centre of his
tiny fragile universe. All in all. And all things considered. It should have
been the worst day of his life. And yet, he could almost say it was the single
best day of his short life on planet Earth.

The sun was a
mere sliver of light on the western edge of the world. And the only light came
from little torn pockets of stars peeking through the dense cloud cover. To the
east, an ascendant moon shone gloomily through a blanket of clouds. Every now
and then dim light would illuminate Lindiwe’s features. Every time Joshua was
struck by her natural beauty. He paused looking back at her. ‘Damn, you’re
beautiful.’

‘Josh,’
Lindiwe said protesting with feigned coyness.

‘How you
doing, lovely? You okay?’

‘I’m fine, my
gallant knight.’

‘Hey, Romeo,’
Duggan shouted from further up. ‘We don’t have time. We need to get a move on.’

Joshua winked
at Lindiwe although he was almost sure she couldn’t see it. ‘Yeah, Scrooge. We’re
coming.’ They resumed their slow trek up the face of mountain. Now the gradient
sharpened suddenly and they found themselves on hands and feet. Almost digging
their way up the steep incline. One wrong move and any one of them could
plummet down the sharp slope, smashing into the craggy rocks below. Finally
after an anxious climb that seemed to last forever they hit a particularly
aggressive outcrop of rock. The lanky Duggan easily scaled the sharp shark-tooth
formation. Joshua waited for Lindiwe to reach the outcrop and, giving her more
assistance than what she actually needed, they scraped and cut their way over
the rocks. Above this jagged obstacle, the slope eased into a kind of a gently
sloping plateau that formed a wide ledge. From here on up the mountain side was
densely wooded with pine trees. This sylvan landscape was man-made – the creation
of Obsidian Technologies – and formed a bristle carpet that stretched all the
way to the compound’s outer perimeter. The massive artificial forest was declared
as an ostensibly aesthetic endeavour to beautify the rugged slopes of Bishop’s
Berg. It was clear however that its true purpose was to afford a cloak of
privacy and secrecy to the Obsidian compound. The three of them stood at the
edge of the woods staring into the thick darkness. ‘Wow, man,’ Joshua said in
awe, ‘it looks like something out of Robin Hood. Or even better.’ He withdrew
his neck into hunched shoulders and held up claw-like hands in imitation of a
monster. ‘Lord of the Rings.’ Joshua rushed at Lindiwe and grabbed her
growling. ‘Come here my precioussssss.’ Lindiwe screamed and howled with
laughter as Joshua buried his face in her neck.