“The witch doctors will use the knuckles for their potions,” Abernethy said quietly as they rolled a man’s remains into a blanket.
“These people live in the stone age.” Andrew felt slightly sick at what he had witnessed.
“I think they’ve graduated to the iron age,” Abernethy said grimly. “Certainly, no further.”
“Gather them up, lads.” Chalmers tied the ends of a blanket with his face taut. “Let’s get back to camp and hope these bastards attack us at Ibeka.”
Andrew could feel the alteration in the men’s mood. In place of apprehension was a grimness. These men wanted to kill; they wanted vengeance for the mutilation of their friends and colleagues.
More Galeka warriors gathered to watch as the patrol returned to Ibeka. They moved parallel to the police, five hundred yards away on eithe
