Krieger sighed. When it came to business, Botha was just too African. He’d trusted Krieger to sell the Kimber back to him when the time was right. Big mistake, “Never hold another man’s dick” being one of Krieger’s rules. A rule he’d now have to modify for Blaze.

•   •   •

The trackers returned with a zebra, already parted. Isaac shouldered the zebra’s legs while his father, Njovu, lugged buckets of offal. They carried the carcass to a tree at the edge of the clearing, upwind of the lion’s promontory. Krieger watched them hook a chain into the zebra’s Achilles and haul its flanks into the tree. The African boy looked to be about Blaze’s age, but Njovu could easily have been a grandfather. The old man was having difficulty doing his job.

Krieger got out of the truck. He looked at his daughter. “Come on, Blaze,” he said. “Let’s help them.” He started toward the tree, and she followed him.

He reached into the gut bucket and scooped a handful of intestines. “Think of it as mucking the stables for Nefertiti and Marigold.”

“Yeah,” Blaze said, “like I would know.”

She reached into the bucket.

The old man was struggling to secure the free end of the chain. His son did it for him quickly, then turned to Blaze. “Let me,” he said. He put his hands into the gut bucket with Blaze’s. “You’re too pretty for this. I will do it.”

Blaze smiled, grateful. “It’s not that bad once you get started. But you don’t—”

“Boy!” Krieger barked.

Isaac jumped, nearly spilling the bucket.

But Krieger wasn’t addressing Isaac. He was talking to Njovu. The old man turned, saw his son, and leapt forward. He seized Isaac by the shoulders and jerked him backwards so hard they both fell into the dirt.

“Jesus, Dad,” Blaze said. “It’s okay.”

As if nothing had happened, Krieger reached into his bucket of zebra guts and tossed a length of intestine underhand into the tree. The gut wrapped a low branch and dangled like sausage.

Blaze glanced across the clearing. Njovu and Isaac had moved off to the blind, the father instructing the son in something, Isaac furtively looking in her direction.

Blaze hurled two fists of grassy stomach content as hard as she could into the air, but throwing grass is difficult.

“Goddamn it, Blaze!” Zebra shit covered Krieger’s shirt. It was in his hair. His face. He quick-checked to see if she’d done it on purpose.

“Sorry.” Blaze laughed.

“Oh!” Across the clearing Isaac stifled a shy laugh. Krieger swiveled and glared at the young man. Why didn’t these people just do what they were told, he thought.

The bait tree was ready.

“Like a Christmas tree from the Apocalypse,” Blaze said into her iPhone.

“So now you like baiting animals,” Krieger interrupted.