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

The hunters fanned out with Dutchy on the flank. Rigby and Turner stayed in the middle. Sam put his fingers in his ears and squatted.
    The lion charge started in slow motion. The male under the baobab came at them slowly at first. The cat extended his massive forelegs to build speed. His arrow-shaped head stayed level. His yellow eyes locked on his prey. As he closed the distance, the big male extended his razor-sharp claws, opened his jaws and spewed deep resonating snorts.
    “Take him, Max! Shoot him, for Christ's sake. Shoot him!” Rigby screamed. Mentally thickened by fatigue and the chaos of the moment, Max had forgotten to release the safety. When he pulled the trigger, he got no response. When he turned to run he hit Rigby in the face with his rifle butt, knocking him to the ground. Sam Mabota took the full charge of the five-hundred pound lion. The sound was one of bones breaking. Rigby and Dutchy swung their weapons inward, but realized they would shoot each other in the crossfire.
    The first lion's attack triggered his brother's charge. Dutchy turned around and found Jocko latched on the second lion's tail. The cat swatted Jocko. One quick bite crushed the terrier's skull. The lion dropped the dog and headed straight for Dutchy.
    “Jocko! My baby,” Dutchy cried. He fired his nitro express, but missed. His second shot blew a hole in the cat's thigh. The enraged lion pounced on Dutchy and tried to deliver a death bite, but Dutchy grabbed two fistfuls of the lion's mane and stiff-armed its jaws. Rigby discharged his .416 into the lion's ear. The big male collapsed on top of Dutchy. Frightened by the gunfire, the first lion bounded off into the elephant grass. The dust and gun smoke settled. The air was filled with the stench of cordite.
    “Is anyone hurt?” asked Rigby, his voice shaking. “Where in Christ's name, did that second one come from? Max, why didn't you fire? What the bloody hell happened?”Rigby checked the lump on his forehead for blood.
    “It was a defective cartridge,” said Max. “I pulled the trigger and nothing happened.”
    “Nothing happened?” Rigby asked.
    Dutchy sat next to the dead lion with Jocko in his arms. He was covered in blood and part of his scalp had fallen down over his face. He wasn't crying, but tears ran down his cheeks, mixing with his blood. “My poor Jocko, one of them finally got you. Rigby, I reckon Jocko's barking saved me. I never saw this one,” he said, spitting on the dead lion.
    “Jesus, Dutchy, you're hurt. Let me have a look at you. That lion worked you over.” As Rigby surveyed the carnage, he realized Sam was still lying on the ground. One of Sam's legs had a bone protruding. “How bad is it?” he asked Sam, kneeling beside him.
    “I have no feeling in my legs. I'd rather die than crawl like a worm. My youngest wife dreamed this would happen.” “Sam, you're talking rubbish. I'll get you fixed up proper. ” Rigby lit two cigarettes and put one in Sam's mouth.
    “We've had a good life together,” said Sam, taking Rigby's hand. His face was contorted from pain. “I want to be buried in Zimbabwe. This country has always been cursed for me.”
    Rigby took Sam's hand and said, “My brother, we'll grow old and fat together.”
    Sam forced a smile and answered, “I'm already old.”
    Rigby had seen too many Africans die not to know that Sam was determined to end his life. He walked over to Max who was sitting on the ground. “Max, what's this bullshit about how you never miss and you never run?” Rigby had to be led away by Dutchy.
    The Matabele trackers stayed behind to bury the woman's remains under the baobab tree. Next to her, they buried Jocko. They piled sandstones on the graves to prevent the hyenas from digging them up. When they arrived back in camp, they learned Sam Mabota had died in Rigby's arms. The men wrapped Sam's body in a tent and placed it in the back of Rigby's truck.
    A somber Max Turner stood over Sam's body. “I will pray