Hellgate London Exodus

ONE FYNBOS BIOME OUTSIDE CAPE TOWN, SOUTH AFRICA Loud gunshots woke Simo Cross from a too-short slumber and threw himdirectly into the path of a killer hangover. He sat up in the tent,automatically reaching for the hunting rifle beside his sleeping bag. Hetried to figure out where the gunshots had come from, but had to admitthat he might have dreamed them. Or hallucinated them.He groaned and cursed as he forced himself tohis feet.You know better than to drink like that, you stupid git.Especially while you're out in the brush. Bright sunlight lay in wait outside the tent and the mosquito netting. Noone else was up and about. The three other tents comprising the group ofvacationing tourists he'd brought out to view the flora and fauna of theFynbos grasslands for the last two weeks hadn't stirred. Simon listened intently but the gunshots weren't repeated.You dreamedit. Go back to bed. Get what little sleep you've got coming to you and beglad of it. With all that alcohol in your system, you're going to besweating your bleeding guts out today. With a sigh, he turned back to the sleeping bag. Last night Saundra hadjoined him. Sometimes she did, but she liked to be out of his tent beforetheir clients got out of bed. Saundra McIntyre was long and lean, five foot ten if she was an inch, buthe still towered seven inches above her and made her look small because hewas so broad-shouldered. She wore her long auburn hair pulled back in aponytail. Freckles spattered her cheeks and nose. He held a great affection for her, but it wasn't love. He'd been truthfulabout that. They'd been conducting safaris in the South African wildstogether for the last sixteen months. Long enough to get to know eachother really well. And to develop great affections for each other. Neither one of them wanted to risk continuing the relationship anywhereelse. Simon, if he ever went home again, lived in London. Saundra lived inSidney, Australia. Both of them had family ties. Simon figured he could leave his family -- his father was it, more orless -- behind easier than Saundra could, but he was unwilling to do thatat this point. He preferred an...extendedabsence from England, hesupposed, rather than a more permanent separation. That was the kindestway to put it. Saying it like that didn't feel so grim and so final. He sighed.You're thinking way too much. Dreaming strange thingsyou've no business dreaming about. Imagining things. Then there's thathuge hangover you're going to have to pay for last night's festivities. That had been a definite mistake. He'd told everyone when they'd leftCape Town that there weren't to be any unnecessary items in their gear.He and Saundra hadn't checked their clients' gear. If they hadn't beengetting paid so well, Simon might have pressed the issue and looked tosee who carried contraband. But they hadn't. Jarl Klinker, the photographer from Dusseldorf, had brought in bottles ofRussian vodka. He was part of the film research team. The other twoclaimed to be a director and a writer. Simon put the hunting rifle down and climbed back into the sleeping bag.It was cool now, but the day would be hot. "You're awake?" Saundra mumbled. "Only just." Simon closed his eyes and lay back. Saundra snuggled upagainst him. "Can't sleep?" It was true that sometimes he couldn't. Too many unresolved complications,he supposed. "I can sleep." "Are you sure you want to?" Saundra's voice held a throaty giggle. Shekissed his ear. Simon rolled over to face her. "Well, I still think that sleep isoverrated. And no one is up, so -- " Two quick gunshots cracked the quiet morning again. Saundra's eyes widened and Simon knew he haOdom, Mel is the author of 'Hellgate London Exodus', published 2007 under ISBN 9781416525790 and ISBN 1416525793.