‘I wonder what else that chip unlocks,’ Luke said, looking past the raising barrier towards the complex beyond. ‘Maybe we can use it to cut through the satellite blackout. Maybe we can get to the raw footage for the Predasaur cut‑scenes . . .’

  Ralph nodded. ‘And show the world who Gerhard and Mbato have killed on film.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ Gerhard breathed.

  ‘There is fear in his eyes,’ Xai said quietly. ‘This time, boys, I think we have him.’

  His adrenaline was ebbing, but Ralph felt fresh strength returning to his body. ‘Shall we go see?’ he said.

  8

  For Robyn, the interior of the Casspir felt like a moving prison. In the rear compartment, two benches had been installed for the use of a crew of twelve soldiers, sitting side by side so they could look out of the three grilled windows set in the walls. Right now, it was just her and Grant, sitting back to back, while Niko accompanied Roland up in the cockpit. Roland was pushing the armoured vehicle hell for leather over the rough terrain, and Robyn felt a wave of nausea at each lurch.

  They were travelling through a grassy valley with only occasional trees punctuating the view, mostly small proteas which could make the most of the poor soil, with their extensive root systems. It was too early for the proteas to begin their autumn flowering, but as they rattled past Robyn glimpsed the lumpy shape of early buds among leathery leaves at the end of long stems.

  ‘I get that we need to reach home as quickly as possible,’ Robyn said. ‘But do we have to go so fast?’

  ‘This thing can reach ninety kilometres an hour on a road,’ Grant informed her. ‘We’re actually going kind of slow.’

  Robyn nudged him. ‘Maybe. But we’re towing a terrified woolly rhino!’

  ‘If Mbato’s troops catch up with us, we’ll all be dead.’ Grant got up suddenly. ‘Wow. Seems Tanky isn’t the only frightened predasaur around here.’

  Robyn turned to see him looking out of the reinforced window, holding on to the safety rail in the wall. She got up carefully, riding out the bumps, and peered out through the window beside him.

  Perhaps fifty metres away there stood a straggle of bizarre animals cropping the long grass: creatures that looked like elephants, but were covered incongruously in shaggy fur.

  ‘Mammoths. So many of them,’ Robyn said in wonder. ‘It’s like travelling back in time.’

  The largest of the woolly mammoths had not taken kindly to the metal interloper straying onto the herd’s pastureland. It lowered its head, pointing its tusks at the Casspir like ivory scimitars.

  ‘Oh, no way,’ Grant breathed. ‘Mr Ballantyne –’

  ‘Dad!’ Robyn shouted.

  The mammoth broke into a charge and came thundering towards them. Others followed.

  ‘Hold on,’ Roland yelled from the front, as the engine growl rose in protest. The Casspir hit a bump, and Robyn was thrown towards the rear. Through the window there she saw the rhino pen on the trailer, rocking wildly. The juvenile inside showed red eyes as it screamed out its rage. Clinging to the metal handholds, she tried to make eye contact with the frightened animal. But it was no use; the vehicle was rocking too much as the Casspir tore up the valley slope. The mammoths lost momentum in their pursuit as the vehicle rumbled up the hillside. By the time Roland had steered the Casspir back down the slope in a wide, sweeping arc, the beasts had given up. One of them raised its head and trumpeted a last bellow of rage before it disappeared from view, as Roland drove deeper into the veldt.

  ‘We’ll be carving a trail half a mile wide in this thing,’ Niko said anxiously. ‘We’ll be spotted so easily from the air.’

  Roland tried to reassure her. ‘Xai, Ralph and Luke have a shorter journey to Gerhard’s. Once they’ve disabled Gerhard’s anti‑comms satellites, we’ll be able to make contact with the outside world.’

  Robyn felt a pang of longing for the days when she could just pick up a phone and be a part of everything – order stuff online, check her social accounts, read the news. Now, of course, the Ballantynes were headline news themselves. Mbato and Gerhard had smeared her family so badly, Robyn felt sick to imagine what her former friends must think of her.

  Grant was watching her. ‘Kind of surreal, isn’t it? Remembering when we were free.’

  Robyn nodded. ‘I . . . never took the time to appreciate how good it was.’

  ‘Me neither. Cos we never imagined things wouldn’t stay that way.’ Grant used the hand supports in the walls of the Casspir to swing himself closer to her. ‘Things can change so quickly.’

  ‘I still can’t believe how much we’ve lost.’ Robyn looked into his eyes. ‘And I can’t believe we’ll ever get it back.’

  ‘Me neither. But hey . . .’ Grant gave her the smallest of smiles as he moved closer. ‘I also can’t believe what I’ve found on the way. Something kind of amazing.’

  ‘Amazing. Right.’ Robyn nodded. ‘I just know you’re talking about Tanky.’

  Grant laughed. ‘Obvs.’ He moved in closer, placed his hand just below hers on the safety rail.

  Robyn looked down at his scratched, dirty fingers. Generally, she found she was better at reading animals than people, but this seemed to her a clear invitation. If she were to move her fingers, press them against his own . . .

  ‘Grant!’ Roland barked from the front.

  Grant literally jumped and snatched his hand away so fast he fell sideways and banged his head. ‘Sorry, Mr Ballantyne!’ he blurted.

  Roland hit the brakes and the transporter rumbled to a halt, while Grant struggled to regain his balance – and his dignity.

  ‘What is it, Dad?’ Robyn asked, hugging herself, embarrassed.

  ‘They’ve done it!’ Roland held up Yonker’s satellite phone. ‘Xai, Ralph and Luke – they’ve dealt with Gerhard’s satellite.’

  ‘We’ve got a signal?’ Robyn laughed and grabbed Grant in an embrace, holding him close. ‘We can actually get through to the outside world!’

  ‘I can call my father,’ Grant said, holding Robyn back just as tight. ‘Find out what’s been happening, how bad things are. Get him to help us somehow.’

  ‘We’d better try him right away,’ Roland said. ‘That is, if you’ve finished celebrating.’

  ‘Who knows how long we have to talk?’ Niko added more gently.

  Self‑consciously, Robyn broke off the embrace.

  Grant stepped away and cleared his throat. ‘Right. Yeah. Course,’ he said. He made his way over to the front cab. ‘What do I even say to him?’

  ‘Let’s keep it brief,’ Roland said, passing him the phone. ‘I don’t want to move on and risk losing the signal. But that leaves us a sitting duck for Mbato’s troops.’

  ‘I’ll do my best. But . . .’ Grant hesitated. ‘I know I’ve said it before, but me and my dad, we . . . we don’t have the easiest relationship. He always put politics before me. And if he believes what the media say . . .’

  ‘Trust me,’ said Roland. ‘Whatever’s happened before, you’re his son, he’ll have been worried sick. He’ll want to help you.’

  And he’s the only one who can, thought Robyn. This could change everything.

  She held her breath as Grant dialled his father’s number.

  ‘Yes! I did it!’ Luke crowed, his face lit blue by the monitor in front of him. ‘Gerhard’s satellites are no longer blocking competitor frequencies in the shared spectrum.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Standing in the brightly lit, air‑conditioned computer server room in the basement of Gerhard’s complex, Ralph felt relief rush through him. ‘How the hell did you manage to –’

  ‘I’m an expert.’ Luke threw back his head and laughed. ‘An expert at turning things on and off again! All I had to do was reboot the system, so it defaulted to regular operation.’

  ‘Don’t downplay it.’ Ralph slapped him on the shoulder.

  ‘The “I did it” part is what matters.’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t have done it without Gerhard!’ Luke chuckled. ‘Shame, huh?’

  Ralph had to agree it was super‑sweet to use the man’s own tech against him. It wasn’t just the front gate that the chip in Gerhard’s neck opened; it automatically overrode all the regular security protocols, granting the big boss exclusive access to anywhere he chose without needing to carry a key, scan a retina or input a single code.

  And that’s why he risked running outside his complex, Ralph thought, so we wouldn’t find out. Using his chip had allowed them to take the skeleton crew – who’d remained loyal to Gerhard and stayed to man the complex – by surprise; Xai soon had all four safely locked up in the animal pens. The only thing the chip couldn’t control was the building’s landline exchange, which was secured with a passcode so only approved personnel could make and receive calls. Gerhard had refused to spill the code, of course, determined to keep his jailers silenced for as long as possible.

  Well, not any more, thought Ralph. This is where it finally turns around for us.

  He jumped as the door opened suddenly, but it was only Xai, who had washed and changed out of his bloody clothes into ranger gear. He now held an AK‑47 assault rifle and smelled incongruously of expensive cologne. ‘I left Gerhard tied up in one of the bathrooms. Seemed a shame not to shower while I was there. Then I went to the armoury. An automatic rifle should never be used for hunting, but for some of the monsters Gerhard’s reared and released here . . . Well, I guess an AK is better protection than most.’ Reading Ralph and Luke’s faces, he grinned. ‘Wait. You were successful?’

  ‘Thanks to Luke, we should be able to get online now,’ Ralph said. ‘And Dad should be able to use the sat‑phone.’

  ‘So, first thing I need to do is get through to my folks,’ Luke said. ‘Man, they’re gonna freak out, hearing from me after all this time . . .’

  The thought of reaching out to the world outside had seemed dizzying for a moment, but now that freedom left Ralph feeling scared. ‘Is it safe to just make contact like that?’

  ‘Safer than you doing it,’ Luke retorted. ‘I’m the only one of us not wanted by the law.’

  ‘But there’s no landline,’ Ralph said, ‘we don’t have a mobile we can use, and the PCs here will have logins you can’t crack –’

  ‘I can use one of them,’ Luke argued, ‘reset Windows without logging in – sure, it’ll wipe the drives, but who cares? You know my dad, he’s head of VanRok Security! Resources, manpower, moolah. He could get us out of here and over to Croc Lodge ahead of your dad. Scope out the place, make sure it’s safe.’

  Xai smiled uncertainly. ‘Luke, I know how badly you must want to get back to your family –’

  ‘Is that a crime?’ Luke broke in.

  ‘You have to remember the media has said we are ecoterrorists,’ said Xai. ‘Sure, it would be great if your father could help us get out of here. But if he hears you’re with us, he might feel he has to go to the authorities . . .’

  ‘Then I won’t say I’m with you, and I’ll tell him to keep things on the down‑low,’ Luke replied. ‘Look, Gerhard threatened to have Dad and Mum killed if I didn’t do what he said. I need to know they’re OK, you know? And if he can get us out of here faster and safer than we can on our own, that’s good, right?’

  Ralph nodded. He understood. He wished it was safe to message his own dad.

  ‘It’s worth a try,’ Xai said. ‘Make contact. We’re more likely to crack Gerhard’s security with him than without him.’

  Luke left with Xai, and Ralph stood alone in the server room, feeling uneasy. For the first time in so long, it felt like they had scored a real victory.

  He didn’t entirely trust it.

  9

  ‘Hello, Dad?’

  Grant closed his eyes as he heard his father’s voice explode over the phone line. ‘Son? Grant, is that really you? Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, Dad, I’m all right. We need to talk.’

  ‘Well, where are you?’ his dad went on. ‘What the hell have you done? When I saw the reports, I couldn’t –’

  ‘Dad!’ Grant could feel anger and tears thickening behind his eyes. ‘Please. Just listen, I may not have long.’

  ‘All right. Sorry.’ His voice was professionally calm now: Max Khumalo, premier politician, was back on the line. ‘Go on, then. Say what you’ve called to say. But just . . . just tell me you’re safe.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ Grant said, swallowing hard. ‘We’re not safe. We’re in danger.’

  ‘We?’ He paused. ‘I’ve seen the news reports. You’re with the Ballantynes?’

  ‘Yes. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for them.’

  ‘Have you any idea of the media storm around you all?’ His dad’s words came in a pained rush. ‘My own son branded a terrorist! With the election so close, it’s hit us hard in the polls. So many donors have thrown us to the wolves –’

  ‘Thrown you to the wolves?’ Grant hissed. ‘Mbato and Josef Gerhard threw me to a pack of cave hyenas! They threw Dane Mellanby to some monster that tore him apart.’

  ‘Dane?’ There was a stunned silence. ‘I feared the worst, but still hoped . . .’

  ‘He’s dead,’ Grant said simply, ‘murdered by Mbato. And it was Gerhard who bred the predasaurs and released the virus, not Mr Ballantyne. We only just escaped, and when we did, they framed us.’ He could feel Robyn’s eyes on him, and turned his back so she wouldn’t see how close to tears he was. ‘Sorry that the timing of all this doesn’t work for your campaign, Dad, but that’s just how it is.’

  ‘I guessed Mbato and Gerhard were working together,’ his dad said slowly. ‘The press put out a story that Mellanby used his position as party chairman to steal funds, then left the country because he knew we couldn’t win. But I never thought he’d stoop to actual murder . . . until I saw the evidence with my own eyes.’

  ‘What?’ Grant said, dreading the explanation.

  ‘My aide, Lindiwe Matuza. You went to school with her.’

  ‘Sure, I remember Lindiwe,’ said Grant. ‘What’s she got to do with anything?’

  ‘I sent her to our house to collect a laptop.’ His dad paused. ‘A simple errand. I’d have gone myself but Lindi was always so eager, so capable . . .’ He trailed off. ‘My staff found her there hours later, dead. Killed by scorpion venom. They also found the corpse of some monstrous beast in my office.’

  In a horrified heartbeat, Grant was suddenly back running for the goods lift as the sea scorpion burst from its tank. He shook his head and tried to focus on Lindiwe – the cute girl he’d liked at school – and found that a whole lot harder.

  ‘Lindi’s dead?’ Grant whispered.

  ‘I’m afraid so. So much potential. Poorer world without her,’ his dad said gruffly. ‘We’ve had to hush it up, of course –’

  ‘But why? Why kill her?’

  ‘The scorpion was supposed to kill me. It’s the only explanation.’ He paused. ‘I told you, Mbato has been working to link me to Ballantyne in the public’s mind through your involvement, inventing his own evidence. To have me dead, killed by one of Ballantyne’s unnatural creations – well. He could put out the story that I was the real mastermind, bankrolling Ballantyne’s schemes . . .’

  Grant found he was nodding to himself. ‘Then your life’s in danger too.’

  ‘I’ve moved to a safe house on the outskirts of Pretoria for my own protection,’ his dad said. ‘Somewhere well away from the press and other prying eyes.’ He paused. ‘Where are you, Grant? Can you get to Pretoria?’

  Grant looked at Robyn. ‘We were hoping you could get to us, at Crocodile Lodge.’

  ‘The Ballantynes’ place?’ His dad sounded doubtful. ‘I don’t dare risk it. If it got out that I was helping the people who created the virus –’

  ‘But you know that’s a lie!’

  ‘Of course I do, but as far as the voters are concerned . . .’ Grant could hear the pain in his father’s voice. ‘I’d be doing Mbato’s work for him. Not just making myself unelectable but facing criminal charges, political disgrace. Mbato would coast to victory, unopposed.’

  ‘Yeah. Course.’ Grant nodded, weariness engulfing him. ‘I get it.’

  ‘But listen. If you can get to me, I can help you.’

  ‘Just me?’ Grant stopped talking, allowed a tear to squeeze out from between his eyelids. ‘Look. I have to go. I’ll call again when I can, OK?’

  ‘Son, wait. The safe house is –’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ Grant snapped. ‘If I know, and I’m caught, I could give you away. You can tell me when we’re sure we can get there, but it won’t just be me coming. It’s all of us or none of us. Bye, Dad.’

  Grant killed the call.

  Roland was looking at him, granite‑faced. ‘I take it that didn’t go so well?’

  ‘Actually, by Dad’s standards, that was a real heart to heart,’ Grant said.

  Robyn came up beside him and placed a cool hand on his shoulder. ‘Can you tell us what he said?’

  ‘Sure.’ Grant wiped his cheek and mirrored her anxious gaze. ‘And I reckon I know how that Scorpio folder back at the mine got its name . . .’

  In the animal pens in Gerhard’s complex, Ralph listened to the predasaurs howl.

  The last time he’d been in this vast warehouse, he’d been a prisoner; now he stood on the same raised walkway he’d been forced over by Gerhard. It overlooked pens and cages of all sizes, each containing beasts whose ancestry stretched back to prehistoric times, to a world mired in blood that offered nothing but the bitter freedom to survive. Yes, he thought, nature was cruel, but when someone like Gerhard interfered it was always a damn sight worse. These creatures had been manufactured – science stitched with savagery – and as he heard the predasaurs’ tortured yowls and barks, Ralph felt as if they knew that themselves, as if they felt their own wrongness. Their red, ulcerated eyes burned with it.

  He’d come here to kill time while Luke tried to get through to his father. Xai had locked away the four animal workers who’d stayed behind, so Ralph had decided to feed the predasaurs, just as he did the animals back in Crocodile Lodge. He wanted to feel useful. There was a cold room full of refrigerated meat and stalls full of kibble and bedding. But there were also powders and chemicals to add to the water, steroids and proteins and who knew what. Despite the notes written on charts beside the cages, Ralph wasn’t sure what to do.