Chapter 13 - THE WATER WAS RISING, AND THE CLOCK WAS RUNNING OUTHLENGIWE
There are moments when fear becomes so overwhelming that the mind simply refuses to accept it.
This wasn't one of those moments.
The second Matla told me there was an explosive device beneath the quarry, I understood exactly what was at stake.
The natural watercourse beneath the Makhetha property connected to several surrounding communities.
If the underground barrier collapsed, the sudden change in water pressure could flood homes and damage the local supply system.
And the people living in those villages had no idea danger was coming.
"We need emergency services," I said.
Matla was already dialing.
I called Naledi.
She contacted the police officers investigating the illegal excavation and began forwarding the documents showing the watercourse's location.
My mother telephoned the municipal water authority.
Abby contacted a local community representative whose family lived near the lower stream.
Nobody asked whether we were overreacting.
Not after they saw the photographs, maps, and threats.
Within minutes, messages were spreading through the villages.
Move away from the stream.
Get to higher ground.
Help the elderly.
Do not approach the quarry.
I stood beside the old pump house, watching Matla give instructions to his security team.
He looked calm.
But I knew him better now.
His hands shook when he thought nobody was looking.
"Matla."
He turned.
"Princess?"
"Where are you going?"
"To get Motsumi."
"I know. How?"
He looked toward the wooded ridge.
"The road is too slow."
I followed his gaze.
Then I understood.
"No."
He stepped closer.
"Listen—"
"You want to run there in your wolf form."
"I can reach him faster."
"What about the security personnel? The police?"
"I'll use the forest trail. Nobody needs to see me."
I looked into his eyes.
For a moment, I wanted to forbid him from going.
I wanted to lock him inside a room until the danger passed.
Then I realized that was exactly what he had been doing to his brothers for years.
Fear made control feel like love.
I took a breath.
"Can you do it safely?"
"I believe so."
"Can you contact me?"
"I'll have my phone when I change back."
I nodded.
"Then go."
He looked surprised.
"Just like that?"
"Not just like that."
I touched his face.
"Promise me you won't try to become a hero by dying."
His eyes softened.
"I promise."
"And bring your brother home."
"I will."
He kissed me.
Then he disappeared into the trees.
A few moments later, a massive black wolf emerged between the trunks and bounded up the hillside.
I watched until he vanished.
My heart was pounding.
But I didn't call him back.
He had to trust me.
And I had to trust him.
Behind me, my mother approached.
"Does that still frighten you?"
I turned.
She had seen him change once before, just before sunrise, when he hurriedly demonstrated his nature after the attack on our house.
"Yes," I admitted.
She smiled sadly.
"Then why are you marrying him?"
I looked toward the ridge.
"Because when he's human, he tries to love people. And when he's a wolf, he still chooses not to hurt them."
My mother considered that.
"Choice matters."
"It does."
She reached for my hand.
"I wish I had understood that when I was your age."
I squeezed her fingers.
"You understand it now."
An emergency vehicle arrived.
Two engineers stepped out, carrying protective equipment and maps.
One introduced herself as Ayanda Dube from the regional water authority.
"We received reports of unauthorized excavation," she said. "Who has the original watercourse survey?"
I immediately handed her copies from the metal box.
She spread them across the hood of her vehicle.
For several minutes, we studied the old drawings.
Then she pointed toward a section marked in blue.
"There's a bypass channel here."
My heart leaped.
"Can it redirect the pressure?"
"Possibly. It was designed as an emergency overflow route, but we need to know whether it's still operational."
I looked toward the pump house.
"Matla's father maintained the system himself."
Ayanda nodded.
"We'll inspect the controls. Only authorized personnel should operate them."
For the next twenty minutes, the engineers worked while we coordinated with the local emergency teams.
I helped identify access roads from the property maps.
My mother spoke with village leaders.
Abby tracked which households needed assistance.
It wasn't glamorous.
Nobody was giving heroic speeches.
But every phone call mattered.
Every family that moved away from the water mattered.
Then the ground trembled.
A deep rumbling sound rolled beneath our feet.
Ayanda looked toward the quarry.
"That wasn't thunder."
The emergency radio crackled.
A man shouted that one of the underground charges had detonated prematurely.
My stomach dropped.
Then another message came through.
The engineers had managed to open the emergency overflow channel.
Water was moving toward an uninhabited containment basin.
But the pressure was still increasing.
"Everyone away from the lower building!" Ayanda shouted.
We began evacuating.
I helped my mother toward the vehicle.
Then I remembered the waterproof box containing Khotso's recording.
It was still inside the pump house.
Our only direct evidence of his warning.
I turned back.
Abby caught my arm.
"Hlengiwe!"
"The recorder!"
"We have copies!"
I froze.
She was right.
Naledi had already preserved the files.
I had become so focused on protecting the original that I nearly risked my life unnecessarily.
I stepped away from the building.
A sharp cracking sound came from behind the wall.
Something moved among the trees.
A large gray wolf emerged.
It was not Matla.
Its fur was matted.
A long scar crossed its muzzle.
It stood between us and the vehicle.
My mother stopped walking.
"Hlengiwe..."
The animal lowered its head.
Its lips curled.
I stepped in front of her.
"Stay behind me."
The wolf advanced.
I grabbed a fallen branch.
It wasn't much of a weapon.
But it was all I had.
"Go away!"
The wolf lunged.
I swung the branch.
It struck the animal's shoulder.
The wolf snarled and knocked me sideways.
I hit the ground hard.
Pain shot through my arm.
My mother screamed.
The wolf turned toward her.
I tried to stand.
My legs wouldn't cooperate.
Then I heard a low growl from the forest.
Another wolf.
Black.
Enormous.
Matla.
Relief rushed through me.
He bounded toward us.
But the gray wolf moved first.
It seized the fabric of my mother's dress, pulling her off balance.
She fell onto the muddy embankment.
Below her, floodwater surged through the emergency channel.
I screamed.
"MA!"
May you like
Matla launched himself through the air.
But before he could reach her, the ground beneath my mother's feet collapsed into the rushing water.
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