He blew out a breath, dragging his hand over wet hair, his heart thumping. He shot her a glance. “You okay?”
She nodded, but she was white with pain, her eyes huge. Brandt felt a sudden punch of affection. Quickly he turned away, concentrating instead on driving. They were reaching the brown pools and water was flowing in widening streams between them. Tension wound tighter.
“How deep do you think that water is?” she said.
“Don’t know.” He entered the narrowest part of a stream between two of the deep-looking pools. Water swirled dark in his lights. The front tires went into the water, then the back ones. As he drove, the jeep went deeper, water coming up over the wheels now. Brandt kept the forward motion steady. Then suddenly the jeep plunged abruptly forward, water sloshing up over the running boards and flowing in under the door. He could feel it soaking into his boots. His mouth turned dry and he quickly changed direction, steering upriver instead, trying to keep the jeep level and keep it from becoming immersed even more deeply. Water churned around the wheels.
“You know how to swim?” he said.
She gave a snort.
“That’s a yes?” He was worried now.
But she didn’t reply, her gaze fixated on the water still rising around them, her knuckles white as she gripped the top of the door. A wave rolled suddenly over the bonnet. Water leaked under the fold-down windshield, wetting their knees.
The engine burbled strangely and Brandt swallowed. He knew as long as he could maintain forward momentum, the diesel engine would be fine. But if the sand turned to mud, and the wheels slipped just once, the engine would take in too much water and seize. He wondered about crocs—these pools were a lot deeper and bigger than he’d thought.
The engine gurgled again, and Dalilah shot him a hard look. He said nothing, kept his attention on driving. Suddenly he felt the jeep wheels levelling out. The tires found harder purchase and they shot up the other side of the pool. He kept revving until they slid onto firmer ground, then he gradually eased up on the accelerator. Slowly Brandt breathed out the air he’d been holding in his chest—they were out of the water.
But now they were sandwiched in a V of sand between the rising flood on one side, and the high-bank cliff, and the only way was north, even farther upriver, where the bank seemed to rise even higher.
“We’ll keep going,” he said. “Until we find a way out.”
Ahead in their headlights the rain was silvery, and the strip of white sand between cliff and water grew narrower and narrower as the river continued to swell. Urgency bit into Brandt.
They could be trapped.
“If a full flood comes down,” he said, trying to keep her positive, “it’ll keep Amal and his men on the other side for at least a day or so until they find a way to cross.”
Dalilah’s gaze flicked to the high bank on the Botswana side. “Yeah, and at least we’ll be driving head-on into the wall of water if it does come down,” she said. “Always nice to face what’s coming.”
Brandt laughed, a great big booming release of tension. He loved that Princess had a sense of humor on top of her bravado.
“Hold tight, Princess!” he yelled as he veered left and zoomed through more water that was closing them in. It splashed up the sides of the vehicle, higher, higher. Then something hit them with a hard thud.
Oh, Jesus.
“What’s that?” she hissed.
Then he saw—the carcass of a bloated cow, floating down. For a minute he’d feared it was a croc. Relief rushed out his chest once more and he laughed again. But this time she remained wire-tense, her fist clutched with a death grip on the bar.
Brandt drove fast, denying the first stirrings of panic licking through his gut as his headlights kept illuminating more and more cliff. The clock was ticking—they had to get out of here.
Dalilah reached suddenly forward, grabbed the hunting spot off the dash, flicked it on. She panned up the river, farther than his lights reached. All caution about being seen was now completely overridden by a desperate urge to get out of the riverbed, away from rising water.
“Over there!” she yelled. “A gap!”
Sweet heaven—she was right. A break in the cliff wall, a gentle incline up onto the high bank. Sweat dripping into his eyes, Brandt raced for it, water chortling at the wheels. He swung the jeep up onto the banking incline, and the jeep stuck. He revved, hard, tires spitting out wet sand. The engine cut, and they stalled. Brandt cursed viciously as he tried to restart it, praying there was no water damage somehow. The engine coughed, turned, then died again. He tried again, slower on the gas. The jeep growled to life. He said a silent prayer as he began carefully edging the four-wheel drive up the bank, all the way up. They shot out over the top onto hard grassy ground fringed with tall fever trees.