No Distance To Run

Chapter One

Chapter OneI touched my

brakes briefly, not bothering to change down a gear on the familiar

road. My trusty old CitiGolf took the speed bump like a horse going

over an easy hurdle. I kept to third gear knowing the next bump was

less than a minute away. Rina had actually turned back to watch the

black BMW320i. It had been sitting on our tail hooting irritably

for at least the past three minutes. The BMW braked hard but still

went over the bump with what must have been an annoying scrape.

Lindi cackled

wickedly, “You're evil, darling.”

“Don't be silly.

Everyone in Joburg knows all the speed bumps and potholes. And if

you don't know the road, you shouldn't be driving so fast.”

“Yes. Everyone in

Joburg drives too fast!” added Rina, who had just moved up from

Ladysmith.

“Uh-oh. I can feel

a Durbanite Joburg bite coming on...,” grinned Lindi, giving us her

signature hair pat and wiggle.

I caught Rina's

eye in the rear-view mirror. We both shook our heads. I had been in

Joburg for seven years now and didn't consider myself a Durbanite

any more. We listened to Björk as I turned left, then right onto

William Nicol towards Randburg.

“So you're really

doing it, Sammi?” asked Lindi.

Rina inched

forward on the back-seat.

“Ja. It feels like

the right thing to do.”

“You sure?” asked

Rina, “Because my cousin Priya from Newcastle went to this

astrologer lady in Dundee and she told her that she would meet the

man she would marry on a cruise. So, Priya used all her saving to

go on this cruise and almost died!”

“How? In the

swimming pool?” I wondered out loud as Lindi looked at Rina with

wide eyes.

“The ship

sank.”

“What, the

Achille Lauro?”

“No, The

Oceanus. So it just goes to show!” replied Rina, sitting back

with satisfaction as we turned into Peter Place and started to move

at a more acceptable pace despite the start of the Easter Weekend

afternoon traffic.

“This isn't the

same...,” I said lamely, knowing they would never understand. Rina

was only twenty-four, yet already married with a child planned for

the next year. Lindi didn't believe in romance and life-long

commitment—something her girlfriend found hard to deal with.

“What you need,”

began Lindi in her Mama-knows-best voice, “is some fun! When was

the last time you just went on a fun date?”

I didn't reply,

still too mortified to tell them the awful truth.

“Yes,” put in

Rina, adjusting the bindi on her forehead. “When was the last time

you had a date, never mind a boyfriend?”

I opened my mouth

with a shrug, trying to think of something off-hand to say when I

was saved the trouble by a taxi suddenly cutting in front of me. I

braked heavily and Rina's small purse went flying into the side of

Lindi's big new hair.

***

My sister, it

seemed, had similar misgivings.

“Look, Sam, you're

thirty-three. You've been waiting too long for the 'right man'.

Don't you think it's time you opened your mind a bit. There're some

really nice guys out there...”

I stared at my

phone hatefully, half wishing we were back in the days of landlines

only—or cellphones which didn't have loudspeakers.

She continued,

“What about that delivery guy you were talking about?”

“What! He's like

twenty-three!”

“So?” Easily said

if you are married, Aquarian and a femme-fatale yourself.

“So?” I echoed,

“It's not right for me. I need to marry a Taurean born in the year

of the Rat 'cos I'm a Cancerian born in the year of the

Dragon!”

My sister sighed

in exasperation, “You're so stupid sometimes. Just don't get

conned, is all I'm saying. I've got to go back underground. I have

to inspect a new seam. Love you. Bye. Oh, by the way, are you

coming over on Sunday afternoon?”

“Yes, see you

then. Love you too. Bye.” I sighed then lugged my suitcase out to

the car.

For most of the

drive to Magaliesberg, I sang along to my favourite songs which

helped keep my mind off the next two days ahead, and the fact that

I was driving through country roads in the dark—alone. I reached

the Lodge just after 7pm.

Mary, my friend

and life-coach, was there to meet me with her famous hug and

irrepressible exuberance. Linking her arm through mine, she steered

me first to the main farmhouse to point out the dining room and

lounges, telling me all the while about the schedule, before

leading me down the enchantingly lit path to my door.

“This is a really

special time, Sammi. I can just feel it!” she enthused, giving me

one last hug then leaving me to settle in.

At 8pm, it was

time to go meet the other nine on the course. Introductions were

brief. We were left to mingle over a buffet in the dining room of

the converted farmhouse. It was warm and cosy; just right for

exhaustion to hit, despite the strangers and my reason for being

there. I thankfully seated myself down by the fire with a plate of

snacky things, placing a glass of red wine by my side.

Mary bustled over.

“I'm so glad you're here!” she said with a hint of nervousness,

squeezing my arm affectionately.

A momentary doubt

flitted through my mind. If Mary, the facilitator of our

Heart-To-Heart course, was feeling nervous... “It's gonna be

great!” I smiled with more assurance than I felt.

Mary smiled back,

nodding. “You should mingle,” she encouraged, popping a kebab into

her mouth.

“I will. I just

feel a bit...beat...”

“That banshee of a

boss been screaming again?”

“Ja. We almost

missed the deadline for The Times. Lost booking materialised.”

“What, again?

Heads will roll,” said Mary ominously, waving encouragement to a

mousey-looking person called Susie or Susan or Sheila.

“Definitely,” I

remarked absent-mindedly as I let my eyes wander over the male

occupants of the room. None of them looked like the soulmate I had

envisioned.

Mary started to

brief me on the possible matches.

“That's Henry.

He's an accountant and a Reiki Master. That's Matthew, a freelance

writer and astrologer. Over there is Vusi—owns his own small ad

agency. He's a Wiccan. You two have a lot in common. Next to him is

Wilhelm, another accountant with big plans to open a retreat near

Rustenburg. And last, but not least, we have Malcolm. He's a healer

and a vet. You have a lot in common with him too. He could really

help you with your healing development.” Mary looked at him

thoughtfully. “And he's a Taurean.”

I looked at

Malcolm obediently. He had his back to me. It was a nice

well-formed back in a white shirt. His reddish brown hair was

neatly cut. Blue jeans and takkies completed the look; a pleasing

back.

Mary looked at me.

“Come on, I'll introduce you.”

“Um...”

“Come on! Don't be

such a chicken or you'll never get anywhere!”

She grabbed my

arm, pulling me towards Malcolm and Susie or Susan or whatever her

name.

I started to

panic, quickly disentangling myself from Mary before we reached the

pair. “I'm sorry, Mary. I just need some time to myself. I'm going

to go to the labyrinth, then to bed. Okay?”

“Okay.” Mary was

looking at me with disappointment. “You rest and think about what

we talked about. Any of these guys would be a great match for you,

but it's up to you to make them see that you'd be best for them.

Goodnight, Sweetie.”

She gave me a

hug.

“Goodnight, Mary.”

I scooted out of there as fast as I could.

***

I walked down

through the trees towards the labyrinth. There were three

firebrands burning at the edges of the clearing giving the whole

scene a 'Survivors Magaliesberg' look. The mountains were faintly

drawn in the background, illuminated either by a town or a veld

fire—I couldn't tell which.

I walked softly

not wanting to destroy the almost magical atmosphere, watching my

footing on the gravel path to avoid slipping. I'd almost reached

the nearest firebrand allowing me to vaguely make out the dark

shape of the tall centre stone. The shadow of the standing stone

looked odd. Deformed. Like some nasty shadow creature was squatting

at its base.

Gripped by a

primeval fear, I took a step back, with the intention of running to

the light and safety of the cottages, and tripped on a treacherous

stone. I shrieked as I started to fall, attempting to skate on the

damp grass to retain some balance. Instantly, a high-powered LED

light from the standing stone hit me in the eyes.

An angry voice

demanded, “What the hell are you doing here?” A male voice; accent

indeterminable. Register low. Menacing.

I lost my balance

completely, hitting the ground with a thump. Survival instincts

taking over, I scrambled up quickly and started to run back to

safety. I’d barely taken two steps when I was jerked back painfully

by the arm and swung around. The horrid LED light hit me in the

eyes. Too terrified to scream, I blindly hit out with my free hand

at what I thought would be a face. I hit an arm instead. The torch

went flying. He dived for it, his grip loosening on me.

Self-defence 101 coming back to me, I kicked him as hard as I

could. As he rolled away gasping in pain, I picked up the torch,

taking a second to blind him with it, then ran, frantically trying

to turn the thing off.

I found the switch

seconds before I reached the trees. Softly, I ran into the darkness

of the copse, carefully stepped off the path and leaned against a

tree, trying to quieten my breathing. I was absolutely certain he

was chasing me. Sure enough, he was.

Seconds later,

rapid footfalls announced his approach, slowing as he reached the

darkness of the trees. He stopped. I clutched the torch like a

club, praying he would pass me by unawares. The seconds crept by as

I strained to hear him—appalled that I couldn't hear him at all.

Then he was gliding past my tree like a shadowy spirit.

A minute or two

passed as I stood dithering whether to run to the farmhouse or back

to my cottage. The thought of meeting him on the way didn't bear

thinking about.

The sound of Mary

and a little group of people coming down the path was a godsend.

Sagging with relief, I waited for them to reach my tree before

stepping out to meet them. Mary screamed. I screamed. Everyone

shouted or yelled in surprise—except for Henry who laughed hard

enough to scare away any ghosts.

***

I woke up the next

morning, stiff and tired, amidst crisp cotton sheets, cellphone

inches away from my fingers. It took me a moment to remember I was

in the cottage. Thoughts of freshly brewed Nescafe proving too

tempting, I pulled off the bedclothes. Intent on the little kettle,

I stepped off the bed and almost broke my leg when I tripped on the

torch. It stopped me dead; all the terror of the night before

seeping back.

I had babbled my

story to Mary and the others as soon as everyone had calmed down.

We had all gone down to the labyrinth to search around the standing

stone but had found nothing wrong. There was talk of calling the

police and nowhere being safe these days. Mary had offered to sleep

in my room, but, looking at the others who seemed to be viewing me

as some sort of hysterical flake, I had decided that I would be

okay on my own. In fact, standing in that group had made me doubt

my own account, with the terror fading like a bad dream. Except it

hadn't been a bad dream. That heavy Coleman torch definitely wasn't

mine! Whose was it?

I found my

toothbrush in distraction. I reflected on my attacker as I had seen

him last—in the bright LED light rolling about in pain. Dark hair,

bright beady dark eyes, a strong nose and a wide mouth...Or was he

just grimacing in pain?

I finished

brushing my teeth then stepped into the shower. He had been wearing

dark jeans, boots, and a dark shirt, underlining his good build.

And he'd been strong, I remembered, rubbing my upper arm ruefully

where it had already bruised.

I dressed quickly

in preparation for breakfast and the course. Dropping a notebook

into my bag, I turned to leave. The torch stood staring balefully

back at me. I hesitated a second before quickly putting it into my

bag and hurrying off to breakfast.

“Any other strange

visitations last night?” asked Melanie who, despite claiming to be

a psychic who's only life's purpose was to help people, handed out

the snidest remarks of anyone I'd ever met.

I blushed, trying

to ignore her.

“Well, stress can

manifest itself in strange ways,” came Vusi to the rescue, his dark

face breaking into a huge cheeky grin. “I remember when I worked at

T&T Ads, I got used to experiencing the weirdest things. Like

the time I thought the coffee machine was speaking to me in

tongues!”

Everyone laughed,

starting a recital of their own funny stress experiences. Vusi

winked at me. I gave him a grateful smile over the croissants and

cold dishes. The course began soon after. I was paired with

Malcolm, ostensibly to help each other develop our healing

abilities, but actually to see if there was any chemistry.

Three hours later

it was obvious Malcolm and I had as much chemistry as neon and

argon. I didn't like Malcolm at all, finding his energy rather

abrasive.

“Never mind,

Sammi,” comforted Mary patting my hand absent-mindedly as we

watched Malcolm hurry off to Susan/Susie/Sheila’s side. “I think

Henry likes you very much. He's been asking me all about you and

been giving you the eye.”

I looked at Mary

blankly.

“You know, The

Eye,” demonstrated Mary, assuming the expression of a bug-eyed

locust. “I feel you two will have a remarkable future

together.”

I turned around to

find Henry watching me. He smiled, a shy whimsical smile, adjusted

his glasses, then strode heron-like out of the room.

***

With a two hour

break for lunch, rest, and meditation, I grabbed a quick bite with

some water before heading off to the labyrinth safe in the

knowledge that on this beautiful, clear day no-one would dare

attack me. Not being entirely stupid though, I approached the

labyrinth circumspectly.

With only the

breeze to disturb the calm, I took a moment to listen and look

carefully into the trees around the labyrinth as well as into the

long grass bordering the entrance. There appeared to be no-one else

around. Satisfied that I had the place to myself, I took a small

rose quartz out of the basket at the entrance and pulled my special

wish-stone out of my jeans pocket, to leave at the centre with the

hope that my wish would come true.

I began to slowly

walk the labyrinth, allowing its calming effect to do its thing as

it always did for me. It was hot, the breeze making it pleasantly

bearable. I reached the centre in a dreamy haze, kneeling down to

gently place my two stones in the pile near the base of standing

stone. There I concentrated on my wish to meet my true-love, my

husband. That's when I saw it: a little plastic tube, about the

size of a cigarette butt, sticking out at the base of the standing

stone. It looked oddly menacing, destroying the sanctity of the

labyrinth. Feeling almost compelled, I started digging it out with

my fingernails, certain it would explain why I had been attacked

the previous night.

“Hey, what are you

doing?” I jumped at Henry's voice. There had been no hint of his

approach.

“You gave me a

fright!” I panted, covered in dust and perspiration. That tube was

just about out, but it was putting up a hard fight.

“Sorry. Did you

lose something? Can I help?” Henry was striding across the lines of

stones with a helpful smile.

“Um, no. I was

just making a wish.”

“Oh,” said Henry,

stopping just in the centre, “I see.”

That smile again,

only taking on a false quality. I leaned backed against the stone,

my body blocking the plastic tube, and slid down to a kneeling

position in the stone's shade. Brushing back wet hair off my

forehead, I smiled just as falsely, wishing he would go away.

He knelt down too.

“So...”

He really was

quite cute, but...“Look, Henry,” I began, wanting to get it over

with quickly. “I really need some time to myself. Do you mind?”

He stared at me a

moment. “Um, ja. Sure. I'll just...,” He got up and began to back

off. “Um…See you later?”

“Definitely.” I

smiled sincerely, suddenly liking him more. I watched him stride

off towards the trees, my hidden fingers worrying the tube out of

the dusty ground.

A couple of

minutes later I had it nestled in my hand. The tube was about two

centimetres long, all black with a little seam along its width. A

little pressure on the seam helped pop it open. Inside was a single

piece of tightly rolled paper with a stream of printed numbers. A

shadow fell across me. “Henry...,” I began, already instinctively

crumpling the piece of paper into my hand whilst turning to look

up. It wasn't Henry. It was my attacker from the previous night. I

stood up slowly as we eyed each other warily, with him standing no

more than a metre or so from me.

He was remarkably

handsome in daylight. The dark hair was dark brown; the bright

beady eyes were still bright but a light, pure green—not beady at

all. His mouth was full, not too wide or small. So he had been

grimacing...Oops! He wasn't as slim as I had thought him to be, but

broader, making him appear even more menacing in daylight with his

arms folded, his legs spread; his hand extended expectantly for the

plastic tube. I started to hand over the tube.

“Who's Henry?” he

rumbled.

“What?”

“Who's Henry?”

Help arrived.

“Him!”

Henry was running

down to the labyrinth drawing something from his pocket. Good old

Henry was calling the police. Mr Menace didn't turn around. He just

grabbed my arm again, constantly jerking me off balance, preventing

me from running away or attempting to kick him.

“Henry!” I

screamed.

Mr Menace turned

to face him just as Henry arrived, gun in hand. I stood open

mouthed. Henry with a gun!

“Hand it over,”

demanded Henry, not sounding very nice at all.

“But..,” I

whinged. Wasn't Henry supposed to save me?

Mr Menacing stood

very still. He didn't say anything.

“Hand it over

Sammi. I know you've got it. I don't want to have to shoot you

too.”

Henry looked way

too comfortable with that gun.

“Give it to him.”

Mr Menace's voice was softly compelling. I held out the black

tube.

“Throw it,”

instructed Henry obviously not keen on stepping any closer to the

simmering Menace.

I threw the light

tube. It landed closer to Mr Menace than to Henry in a tuft of

dried grass.

“Don't move.”

Henry's voice was cold as he stepped forward.

Keeping the gun

trained on us, he knelt down groping for the black tube. I could

not believe that Henry was going to shoot us. He had already

indicated that he was going to shoot Mr Menace. There was no reason

to believe he would not shoot me too. This was not how my life was

supposed to end!

A few long moments

went by as I waited for my life to flash before my eyes. Instead, I

just thought of all the things I would never get to do.

Henry shifted,

glancing down to search for the tube which must have rolled away.

It’s usually at this point in movies and books that the guy charges

the gun-wielder, wrestles it out of the gunman's grip and wins the

day. Mr Menace must have watched the same movies as me. He moved

abruptly, kicking out at Henry's face, fist hammering down. Henry,

somehow anticipating this, shot him.

My scream seemed

disembodied as Mr Menace came toppling down on me. Futilely, I

tried to catch him, only to be borne to the ground with him, my

hand and body turned to the right as I ended up cradling his torso,

still screaming. Henry's triumphant eyes met mine as he stepped

forward. He shot Mr Menace again. The bullet jerked his body

momentarily off me then slammed me painfully into the ground again,

leaving me with no breath.

I passed out.

***

My side was

burning, bringing me back to consciousness.

A man was crying

over sharp, concerned voices, “I could have stopped them! I should

have stopped them. If only I...,” he sobbed hysterically. It was

Henry.

Melanie was

comforting him. “There's nothing you could have done. They had

guns, lovey. Toe nou, kom.”

Henry wasn't going

anywhere. “No, no! Maybe I can still help! Maybe she's still

alive!” Which was how Henry got to see Vusi and Mary gently roll Mr

Menace off me.

I groaned

involuntarily. Instantly, Mary and Vusi were attending to me,

checking the extent of the wound.

“Let me see!”

Henry was trying to push past, but Vusi shoved him gently away into

Matthew and Wilhelm's waiting arms. They led him away despite his

protests.

“Henry did it!” I

tried to say.

“Yes, Henry's

fine, sweetie. Don't worry about him,” reassured Mary, holding a

piece of her torn skirt to my wound.

“Guy...,” I tried

again.

“He's...not good,

sweetie. Malcolm's doing his best.”

I passed out

again, only to be awakened by new voices. The paramedics and police

were quick and efficient. They were working on Mr Menace when I

turned my head to him. His green eyes bore into mine. “Gerrie...” I

thought I heard him say just before they carried him away on a

stretcher. I tried to think. He was trying to give me a message,

surely. But what did it mean? It was no good. I fell into a numbing

daze as they lifted me to be carried towards the farmhouse.

“She's okay. It's

just a flesh wound,” someone said.

“Thank God!” I

heard Mary say, hurrying alongside.

I was taken to my

cottage for treatment. Mary stayed with me the whole time, holding

my hand as I drifted in and out of consciousness; partly from the

pain, partly from the painkillers. I remembered insisting Henry be

kept away from me. Fortunately, Mary listened. No-one else was

allowed in with us, except Vusi who spoke quietly with Mary sitting

in the window-seat. Their presence was comforting. Eventually, I

relaxed into sleep.