Zambezi by Tony Park Page B

punched the man in the kidney, then raised his knees and thrust the man off him.
    They both scrambled to their feet, circling each other. The intruder looked to the edge of the roof.
    He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and drew out a knife. The silver blade flicked free at the touch of a button. Jed skipped out of reach and snatched up the fallen desk lamp by its cord. He started to swing it. The heavy ornament quickly gained momentum as he swung faster and faster. He hoped the cord would hold. The man started to back away out of range of the spinning weight. Jed brought his arm above his head now and charged at the man.
    The cord connected with the man’s raised arm and the lamp swung around and glanced off his head, causing him to lose his footing. Jed closed in on him and kicked the man in the groin, causing him to double over and fall to his knees. He stomped on his hand, forcing him to drop the knife. Jed picked it up. He kicked the prone figure in the side again. They were on the edge of the roof now. The man tried to roll away, but stopped when he reached the precipice.
    Jed stood over him. ‘Who are you, and what were you doing in my room?’
    The intruder said nothing. From below them there was the squeal of rubber as a car pulled up. The man craned his head and looked over the edge of the roof.
    ‘Up here,’ he yelled.
    Jed grabbed him by both feet and started pushing him over the edge of the roof. The man’s arms flailed in the air. ‘Tell me who you are, asshole, or I’ll fucking send you over to meet your friend right now.’
    The intruder stayed silent and stopped struggling. Jed knelt down, putting his weight on the man’s shins, and reached over towards his face. The man tried to grab Jed’s arms but he was too quick. He grabbed at the ski mask and yanked it off. The man had cropped red hair and a pale complexion.
    ‘Last chance. Who are …?’
    Jed ducked instinctively as he heard the sound of gunfire. Two bullets split the air above his head.
    He grabbed the man’s skivvy and rolled backwards and to one side. The man had tried to rob him, but he didn’t really wish to push him off the roof and leave him dead or crippled – he had more questions to ask him.
    The gun fired again and Jed rolled further away from the edge, letting go of the intruder. The man saw his chance. He stood up and kicked viciously at Jed’s kidneys. Jed arched his back and rolled on his side, watching in agony as the man lowered himself over the edge. The tyres protested as the car took off. Jed crawled to the roof’s edge and saw the vehicle racing through the half-empty car park. It was a sedan, white. Maybe a Mercedes. It was already too far away for him to read the licence plate.
    Peering over the lip of the roof he could see the man had shimmied down a drainpipe.
    A small crowd of people had spilled from the restaurant and bar inside the hotel to see what all the noise was about. A couple of young males, one white and one black, had pistols drawn. He had heard that many people carried guns in South Africa for personal protection because of the high crime rate.
    He stepped back from the edge of the roof – he didn’t want to provide target practice for a civilian with an itchy trigger finger.
    Jed brushed himself off and started back towards his hotel room. He felt his body, assessing his injuries. He could tell he would be badly bruised, but none of his ribs were cracked. He touched the inside of his lip with his tongue and tasted blood.
    In his room, things looked as he had left them, apart from the missing lamp. His suit bag was zipped shut and his Alice pack still buckled closed. He must have arrived just after the man had entered his room, and before he’d had time to steal anything. He picked up the telephone and dialled reception. ‘Send your security man up here now and call the police. There’s been a break-in.’
    ‘The police are already on their way, Mister Banks. There have been gunshots