Read Online The Lion Killer (The Dark Continent Chronicles) by James S. Gardner - Free Book Online

Anything else?” Max sounded irritated.
    “That covers it. We'll pick you up one hour before dawn. Tell your friends you'll see them in ten days.”
    “I thought we agreed to two weeks.”
    “The agreement was to get you a lion. Where we're going is crawling with lions. Getting you a lion in ten days won't be a problem.”
    “Great. Sorry about the mix-up. What about dinner tonight?” Max asked.
    “I'm afraid that's quite impossible. I pitched my tent down the road. These bloody hotel rates would force me to sell my farm. Remember, I need you ready to go at first light. We're in for a hell of a drive. Cheers, Max, see you in the morning.” As they walked away, Rigby remarked to Martin, “I'd rather eat hyena shit than have dinner with that asshole. I'm gonna need you to keep an eye on his friends. Turner's a snake. I'd like to get this safari over as quickly as possible.”
    “Turner's woman is something else. I can't remember seeing a better-looking bird.”
    “That woman's not his, she's—let's just say it's complicated. Do yourself a favor, stay the hell away from her.”
    “Christ, Rigby, no need to get so huffy. I've never seen you so edgy.”
    “I haven't slept a wink since I agreed to do this hunt. I wish I'd listened to my wife.” Rigby said goodnight to Martin and retreated to his tent.
    ***
    Dawn peeked over the Lebombo Mountains as they arrived at the border post. There were two South African army trucks parked next to the Customs and Immigration building. One was a flatbed. Rigby saw what appeared to be bodies covered by a dark green tarp. “What's going on here?” he asked the border guard.
    “Poor devils, three women raped and killed by bandits. Say, the kaffirs who stopped you. Was one missing a hand? Are you all right?”
    Rigby felt dizzy. He paused before speaking. “Sorry. Yes, one was missing a hand. Are you sure it's the same bunch?” Rigby asked, handing him passports and papers.
    “Quite. Preying on refugees is their pleasure. Wicked devils. Be careful, my friend,” the guard said.
    “Cheers. Thanks for the warning,” Rigby replied.
    Rigby walked over to the truck and lifted the edge of the tarp. When he saw the clubfoot, he gently recovered it. Turner questioned him. Rigby mumbled something about a dead animal, but Sam knew otherwise. Rigby dried his eyes, but when he realized Sam was staring at him he regained his composure.
    The six-hour drive to camp was done in almost total silence. They stopped once to give way to a herd of elephants lumbering across the road. Rigby refused help with the driving and seemed to take out his hostility on the bumpy road. Max's endless questions were answered with terse responses. Rigby stopped at the same place they stopped the day before. Instead of eating, he walked down by the river.
    When they pulled into camp, Dutchy greeted them with Jocko tucked under his arm. “Did you miss me?” Rigby light heartedly asked Dutchy.
    “I missed you. Jocko missed you. You should have heard them last night. In the morning, we followed the sticks. It was a young male and his three lionesses.” Dutchy turned to Max and extended his hand. “You must be Turner.”
    “Max, the men place sticks in the direction of the last roars they hear,” Rigby explained. “It helps us find them in the morning. Lions don't venture far in the heat of the day. It'll all be clearer tomorrow. You might want to sleep with earplugs. The sound's quite deafening.”
    “Don't worry about me,” Max scoffed.
    “Suit yourself. Just remember, I warned you. Now, let's make sure that fancy rifle of yours is zeroed in. We've put some targets up at a hundred meters.”
    Both Dutchy and Croxford were surprised by Turner's marksmanship. He had obviously been practicing. “A charging lion is not a paper target,” Dutchy said to Rigby with his back turned to Max. “We'll see how wellhe shoots when the time comes.”
    ***
    Max wasn't sleeping. After the second night, he demanded that