It's not even love at first sight, it's love at a glance

"S'bu," I scream from the water, shoving past Ronaldo's bobbing bloated corpse. "It's the drugs. Stop it! Put down the knife!"

The Crocodile turns its head as if about to slide off the slipway into the water. "No, stay," Huron instructs. "It's nearly over." He snaps at the Marabou, "Taken care of, huh?" He pulls the gun out from under his armpit, and aims it at the water. "Never mind, I'll do it my-f.u.c.kingself." He points the gun. I dive.

But I can't let you go, I have to take this chance.

Underwater, the gunshots sound like staccato snaps.

Three of them in quick succession. I imagine I can feel them burrowing through the water, leaving silvery trails. Something tears at my ankle. I twist away in panic and blunder into Ronaldo. I pull the rotting body over me as a shield, as a fourth gunshot echoes through the cavern. The trajectory is slowed by the water, by the corpse. Slowed, but not stopped. It rips through the mushy flesh and into my chest, wedging into my collarbone.

I scream into the water, swallowing half the lake. But I stay under. Counting down. Holding my breath. 74 alligator. 92 alligator. 118 alligator. Until I can't anymore. But when I surface, it's under the cover of Ronaldo's armpit. I kick for sh.o.r.e, pushing my Trojan corpse ahead of me, staying low.

But you looked straight past, didn't see me

"Hurry this up," Huron says, gesturing impatiently at the Marabou. She looks at him coolly and then moves forward. The Stork spreads its wings and beats the air behind her. She grabs S'bu's wrist, swats Songweza's arm out of the way and, still holding S'bu's wrist, drives the knife into Song's chest.

Now I'm wondering if the thought of you will let me be The knife rasps against bone as the Marabou jerks it free. S'bu gives a little shriek of surprise, but he gets the idea. She doesn't even have to force him to make the next thrust. Or the next. Or the next after that. Song's screaming is a jagged counterpoint to the gleeful chorus. Baby, it's a drive-by, drive-by, drive-by love Baby, it's a drive-by, drive-by, drive-by love

Songweza drops into a curl on the cement, trying to shield her body. The Marabou urges S'bu down over her. He keeps the knife moving like a darting piranha as Song screams and howls and is finally silent.

"Enough," Huron says.

S'bu looks around, dazed. The Marabou plucks the knife from his hand and pa.s.ses it to Huron. S'bu smiles at her, uncertainly, and then notices his sister. He kneels down to shake her shoulder. "Come on, quit messing around," he teases. "Re-sp.a.w.n, you big baby." But the air pressure has changed, and I understand that Song is dead. The Undertow is coming.

A thin howling sound starts up, like wind through narrow s.p.a.ces. Instinctively, I retreat, paddling backwards in the water.

"Eat," Huron says to the Crocodile, nudging Songweza's body with his foot. "f.u.c.king eat!"

The Crocodile slithers forward and reluctantly rips a piece out of Songweza's leg. It swallows with obscene jerks of its head, its white gullet undulating with the weight of flesh. S'bu moans in horror.

I look away. Shadows are peeling off the walls, congealing in the water. The howling reaches a new pitch, underscored by a dull click-clack click-clack, as if of teeth. Huron looks uneasy. All zoos do with the Undertow coming. Even the Marabou has retreated against the white-painted rock closest to the stairs. Huron uses the knife to slice open his left palm and then drags it through the bloodied tangle of animals on the butcher's block. The howling gets louder.

Marabou prompts him, like a priest at a wedding ceremony. Huron repeats the words after her, dully. His hands are shaking. "I offer this boy in my place. Let him not be animalled. Let him take mine. Bound by flesh, bound by blood." He lunges forward and slices across the Crocodile's snout with the knife, as it tears at Songweza again. It yanks its head away in fury and hisses at him with open jaws.

"Now you," Odi screams at S'bu. "Say: I take this animal."

"I don't underst"

"Say it! f.u.c.king say it!"

"Please." S'bu starts to cry.

"Do you hear that sound? Do you know what that is?" Odi yells. "That's the f.u.c.king Undertow, my boy. Now say it, or it's going to swallow you up and drag you down to h.e.l.l."

"I take this..." S'bu stutters.

"Animal!"

"Animal. I take this animal." He looks to Odi for ap

proval. Odi looks to the Marabou.

"Did it work?" Odi screams. "Did it f.u.c.king work?"

The Marabou shakes her head. She doesn't know.

"It better have f.u.c.king worked!"

S'bu is rocking backwards and forwards, staring at his sister, his arms hugged around his body. His chest heaves with sobs.

The darkness seethes and boils, like a slick of oil. It separates to flow around S'bu. He waves his hand at it feebly, trying to ward it off. The Undertow rises like a wave, tendrils reaching towards him, as if tasting his skin. I shudder at the memory.

"Song?" S'bu says, his voice trembling.

The Crocodile suddenly bursts forward, its belly rasping over the concrete, snapping its jaws at the Undertow, sweeping its tail through the thick black. The darkness turns to steam instantly, as if it was only ever mirage. S'bu screams as the reptile lunges for him. But it's only moving to lean its ma.s.sive head against his leg in something like affection. Horrified, he tries to shove it away. The same way I did with Sloth, until I realised he was the only thing between me and the rising dark. Of course, Sloth didn't have my sibling's blood on his teeth.

"This isn't how the game goes," S'bu sobs, bewildered, standing stiff and frozen with the Crocodile nuzzling his leg.

"He's yours now, kid. Congratulations," says Huron. "I'd say enjoy feeding the f.u.c.ker, but you won't live that long."

"I" S'bu starts, but Amira steps forward, holding a retro gun. She puts the muzzle of the Vektor to the side of his head and pulls the trigger. S'bu falls onto his knees and tips slowly forward onto the remains of his face. I look away.

Drive-by, drive-by

Without the howl of the Undertow the music is audible again.

"Well, that went well. Turn that racket off, will you?" Huron says. Amira clicks a switch and the music dies, leaving a heavy silence, broken only by the waves lapping at the pier and the m.u.f.fled thump of the Crocodile nudging at S'bu with its head, as if to make him get up.

"Well enough," Amira replies, sheathing the gun in a concealed holster under the straps criss-crossing her chest.

"Good luck getting that f.u.c.king thing out of here."

"Don't trouble yourself. We have a plan. Alive would have been better of course, but you take what you can get." She eyes the Crocodile evaluatingly.

"Shhhh," Odi laughs. "He'll hear you."

I wait until they're both up the ladder and then count out another few minutes, 289 alligator. 294 alligator, until I'm sure they're not coming back. I creep out of the water as quietly as I can so as not to disturb the Crocodile, which is still head-b.u.t.ting S'bu. I've seen animals live for months after their humans have died. But they're never quite the same.

I can't raise my arm, courtesy of the bullet in my collarbone. Every step sends shards of gla.s.s stabbing through my chest and causes sunbursts in my head. But I have to get upstairs, have to get to a phone. There's no way I can drag Benoit out of here on my own.

I skirt round the side of the butcher's block, trying to avoid looking at the mess of animals, but the Crocodile sees me. It swings its bulk between me and the stairs in a rapid jerk, faster than should be allowed for something that big. Its mouth gapes, a clear sign of aggression. I hold up one hand, all I can manage, in surrender.

"They're planning to kill you. Chop you up for muti. muti. They've got all the tools waiting." It studies me impa.s.sively with slit gold eyes. I persevere. "Monster like you? You're probably worth a fortune. I can help you. I can They've got all the tools waiting." It studies me impa.s.sively with slit gold eyes. I persevere. "Monster like you? You're probably worth a fortune. I can help you. I can try try to help you. But I have to get out." to help you. But I have to get out."

It jerks its head at me. I flinch, but it's not attacking, it's motioning towards the stairs. For me to go. I step past it gingerly, still half expecting it to lunge, for those bonecrushing jaws to snap around my body, but it doesn't, and I haul myself agonisingly up the ladder, one-handed, pain screaming through my chest.