#Chapter1
Prologue
A full moon looks down on the dry African bush. The wind plays with the leaves of the trees. Shadows grow longer as the moon climbs in the sky. A Howl reverberates across the vast African landscape, splitting the night in two freezing the leopard in his tracks. He moves from the safety of the shrubs. Silence descends like a blanket. The chirping of the crickets and the mating call of the frogs disappear as the haunting cry rings off the kopje behind the big cat.
Shadows hide the other as it watches as the spotted feline moves slowly around the corner of the deserted house. The attack is fast and deadly. The watcher launches itself onto the back of the cat, its strong jaws latching onto the thick neck of the leopard, just behind the head.
Rolling onto its back the spitting cat tries to dislodge its attacker, blood flies. Bone is crushed and the spinal cord severed, the big cat now paralyzed is at the mercy of the creature of the night. The head of the leopard is torn from its body; sounds of ripping and tearing now fill the night as the other eats.
An abomination stands in the clearing; all is still, Africa waits; it lifts its head to the heavens and howls out its ownership of the night.
Nothing is safe when the moon is full.
Sunrises on a new morning, the area behind the house is deserted, the scene of the battle and the spoor in the dirt tells a story of its own, leopard spoor cover’s the area and covering the leopard spoor are tracks of another.
Dried blood splatter marks the walls of the house, and the torn decapitated body of the leopard half-eaten lies in the dirt.
Mother Nature uses the wind to slowly sweep the area clean, and soon there is nothing to tell the story the slate has been wiped clean. Nature will take care of the rest.
Glassy dead eyes of the leopard look out from its detached head, on the rubbish dump.
Thick bush surrounds the house that stands alone at the end of a long rutted overgrown dirt track. Inside the house the dust on the floor is thick, cobwebs fill the corners, and the bath is full of bits and pieces that have built up over the years. The stable door leading from the kitchen into the back area hangs on it rusted hinges, broken.
There are no birds nesting in the house, it’s free of mice and rats and the only thing that shows that any living thing was there are the prints in the dust.
With a screech and the smell of burning rubber the large wheels of the 747 touches down on runway 26 at Lusaka International Airport. David turns to his new bride a bright bubbly 27-year-old blonde with large brown eyes and smiles. /"Welcome to Africa my darling./"
Adele’s eyes are alive with wonder as she looks out the window as the big jet lands, excitement running through her veins, a new Chapter has opened in her life and she is now in Africa to share that Chapter with the man she loves. The man who is gentle, caring and most important who loves her with every ounce of his being. She feels safe with David and it did not take her long to say yes to his proposal of marriage, nor to the move from her home in London, to live in the wilds of Africa.
Excited but weary passengers disembark and move across the tarmac to the terminal building, moving through customs and into the reception area. /"David/" a voice bellows across the open space.
A larger than life specimen of a man pushes his way through the crowd dressed all in khaki takes David into a bear hug, both men are in their late thirty’s and grew up together. /"Man it’s good to see you again, this must be Mrs. Swart, hell David, she is far too lekker for you./" With a smile, David turns to his blushing bride.
/"Adele, I would like you to meet Piet Van Zyl, he’s the local hunter in these parts and my best friend./"
/"Best friend se voёt, I never even got an invite to the bloody wedding; good thing though as I would have convinced Adele to run away with me./" He offers Adele his hand, the size of a melon. /"Welcome to Africa Mrs. Swart, follow me I have wheels outside. Let me take you to your hotel, and we can make arrangements to get you out to your home in the morning./"
Piet drives through the traffic of central Lusaka, like a bull in a china shop, and finally, much to both David and Adele’s relief, they arrive at the hotel, in one piece. /"You two check-in, and meet me on the veranda for a beer, I need to fill you in and bring you up to date on a few things David, things have changed over the last few years, and there’s a lot to talk about./"
As David and Adele return from checking in and cross the broad veranda towards the burly South Africa, Piet gets to his feet in greeting, a broad grin on his rugged features. /"I took the liberty of ordering you a Beer Shandy Adele, that is half beer and half lemonade, and for you David, an ice cold Black Label with your name on it, Man it’s great to see you again./"
Helping Adele into a chair, David turns to his boyhood friend. /"You’re looking good Piet, and thanks for the beer, this is going to go down well./" A serious look comes into the big man’s eyes as he leans across the table towards the two. /"Guys, you need to know that your house needs work. I mean a lot of work, so you’ll be living in a tent for about three weeks and Adele, you will have to get used to using an outhouse until everything is up and running, that includes the generator, so no lights for a while but hey man this is Africa, you’re in the bush miles from anyone, what more could you ask for?/"
***
A full moon climbs slowly above the clouds as they run across the sky full and bright, throwing shadows on the ground. The area around the house is desolate; there is no evidence of bird life. Crickets start their concert, backed up by the sound of the frogs from the nearby Kafue River, the wind plays amongst the trees and the night waits.
Slowly a jackal leaves its den in a nearby outcrop and lifts its head to pay homage to the moon. She howls her greeting to the night and then moves across the veldt on her nightly hunt, her pups warm and safe in the den. Eyes watch her move away; a stealthy shadow detaches itself from the darker shadows and moves towards the den, towards the sleeping pups.
With the spoils of a successful hunt clutched between her jaws the female jackal returns to the scene of a massacre, the den has been opened the bodies of her pups lie scattered all around half eaten, mutilated, blood covering the ground. She drops her bounty her body rigid, ready for flight, but she never stood a chance. The shadow launches itself at the jackal, its strong jaws crushing her skull, tearing her head from her body, now it will eat.
The chilling sound of the howl rips through the night and the only witness to the carnage is the full moon. When the sun claims the day, the vultures will feed and no trace will remain.