Worst of all, I could hear her, hear her sucking in huge, lurching gasps of air. I hadn’t killed her. It wasn’t over. I approached with caution, feeling the ball of hot acid rising in my stomach, not knowing how incapacitated she was or how fast a prone elephant could rise to its feet. She had slid onto her knees then over onto her side, her vast rib cage rising with every shuddering breath. The bullet wound in her head swelled with blood that ran to co-mingle with that I’d seen earlier. She could see me, she watched me approach. I could not break away from her gaze. That eye that seconds ago had been so crazed now carried its melancholy cast, the same sadness I’d witnessed when I first saw her. That sadness stabbed me in the heart. I had one round left and knew what I had to do. Would she let me?

‘Oh, Cassie,’ I said, my voice cracked and laden. ‘You’ll be alright, I’ll take care of you and everything will be alright.’

I walked around her and stood behind her head, still talking to her softly, trying to keep us both calm. I leaned forward and touched her, she lifted her trunk slightly in acknowledgement but there would be no resistance, no fight.

She didn’t even flinch at the sound of my breaking the shotgun, ejecting the spent cartridge and clicking it shut with the next round.

Once again, I pulled back the hammer.

I pressed the barrel flush against her flesh. My vision blurred as the tears flowed down my cheeks.

Another shot rent the night.

31

‘Lay down your weapon.’

‘Huh?’ The intrusion of the voice snapped me back to the now. How long had I been sitting here, leaning back to back against the now lifeless form of what I considered one of God’s most magnificent creations? A creation I had just killed.

‘Sam, we need you to lay down the weapon.’ A different voice, softer, and one I recognised.

I looked up through tear-hazed vision and saw Smithy standing nearby, accompanied by another two officers with weapons drawn and pointed in my direction. Why the hell would they need to do that? I was an officer. Then I realised I was a non-uniformed officer with a non-issue weapon. I shoved at the shotgun that lay across my lap and it skittered across the asphalt, spinning a slow arc as it scraped to a halt.

The officers immediately dropped their stance and holstered their Glocks.

While one of them attended to the shotgun, Smithy came over and crouched down on his haunches next to me, placing a hand on my knee. ‘Sam, are you hurt? Are you okay?’