Blood Mines

Chapter 10: Wednesday, 22 August 2018

“Are you comfortable?" Edna asked the moment they returned to the bedroom, tucking Tanya into bed like a small child.

Tanya had to admit that it felt good to be pampered like this, even if her body screamed with pain with every movement.

The spacious farmhouse was not something she had expected. Most people had sold their precious possessions to stay alive, or simply used it as firewood. However, here everything was still intact.

There was bulky furniture which, like showpieces, filled the house to capacity. No clutter could be seen and the house was neat and tidy. The only things which were missing — evident by the large marks on the walls — were the paintings or photos that used to decorate the walls.

The wooden floors gleamed in the sun streaming in from the wide windows. Just beyond the windows were 10-foot fences erected to protect the occupants from any hostile attacks. Barbed wire lay on both sides to make it more difficult for any intruder to come in.

Watchdogs walked the perimeter, their bodies alert as they scanned the veld, waiting for their guards to catch up with them. On each corner of the property watchtowers stood sentinel with huge lights attached to them.

Clearly security was taken seriously here, Tanya thought as she took in the surroundings. When she had asked where she was, Edna gave a non-descriptive answer that left her clueless of her whereabouts. All she knew was that she wasn't close to the Vaal River, or her hometown, Parys. The fresh air, a clear sign that she was in a different area.

Tanya could understand the reason for this kind of secrecy, except that she felt entitled to know where they were. Clearly she wouldn't get any straight answer from the older woman. Edna was thorough in her work and only spoke in general terms, revealing nothing of who they were. All Tanya could hope for was that they really were in safe hands.

So far she had avoided any militia groups, staying on her own, although Etienne had told her many times to join up with one, even if it was only for their own protection. Maybe she should consider it after their ordeal and see where it leads.

She and Steve were helpless against the bastard and his followers. Not a wonderful idea to admit to oneself, but true, even if it angered her to think about.

So far she had kept to herself only going to work and back, never interacting with anyone around her. That's how you stayed alive in this new world. You never knew who was friend or enemy. The less people knew about you the better, and she was never a people's person.

She was satisfied being on her own. Etienne and his family would come and visit once a month, that was the closest she had to visitors. Susan and her husband left the country ten years ago, begging her to join them in Canada. But how could she? This was her land, her life.

Her father entrusted this place to her, and she made a promise that she would take care of it. To walk away meant that she admitted that there was no hope for a new future. She had to cling to the belief that this country would change, maybe not in time for her but definitely for her son.

“Yes, thanks Edna," Tanya replied, closing her eyes just to settle the pain that threatened to overwhelm her.

Each breath was laboured. Her face was swollen with purple bruises that covered most of her face, her nose bandage that made it difficult to breathe. She really looked a sight when she first saw herself in the mirror.

She couldn't understand that kind of hatred; to her all life was sacred – her mind still spun with the devastation on herself and her son. She washed painstakingly slow as each stroke filled her with remembrance; her tears mingled with the spray of water and bitterness swept through her like a torrent. There, in the cleansing spray she promised herself that the Douchebag would not win.

“Here, drink this, you will feel much better after more sleep. The rash looks much better." Edna told her as she handed her a plastic holder containing three tablets, a glass of water in the other hand.

Tanya marvelled about the clean water; basking in it when it touched her body and face. The feel of the fresh sparkling water so new to her, which she vaguely remembered from her childhood. At her home she had to do a few processes of filtering the borehole water before it was usable, not even to drink, but here it streamed from the tap, in abundance.

In her world, the water was poisonous, bloody stinking death that caused fatality to whatever it touched.

When she asked about it, Edna just smiled.