The harpoon vibrating in the wood next to my ear sounded like a death knell. I lay there, my lungs feeling like they were filled with wet sand, watching the black helicopters hover like giant, predatory insects against the bruised Tanzanian sky. The air was whipped into a frenzy by the rotors, spraying salt water and the stench of diesel across my face.
I tried to move, but the bullet in my chest felt like a hot coal that had finally settled into my spine. Every shallow breath was a gamble.
"Mama!"
Sasha was screaming from the wreckage of the ship, his small body silhouetted against the orange fire of the burning SUVs. The water around him was still churning, that dark, oily tide he’d summoned now receding, leaving him stranded on a splintering piece of timber.
"Don't... touch him," I
