Blood Mines

By Lynelle Clark

Tanya’s life was turned upside down when her son, Steve was attacked by renegades and she had to dig deep facing her worst fear to save them both.
It is the year 2048, 30 years after a devastating quake had changed Gauteng’s geographic features. The effects of the acid water, that covered most of the area, was visible to everyone but the government. The silent death crawling closer leaving devastation in its path. Nothing is excluded from the terror.
Tanya and Steve’s path of survival meet up with the rebels in their search for clean water and she had to face much more than just acid water to stay alive.
A thrilling story of courage and survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lynelle Clark
• Release date: Feb 9, 2018
• ISBN: 9780620783361

Lynelle Clark

The desire to write was a silent wish I rarely talked about, keeping personal journals year after year. In my late forties, I found myself overwhelmed by life's experiences.This became a trigger that launched me into a new season. I have discovered much about myself and explore the many facets of writing, finding my peace within the walls of paper.I am a self-published multi-genre author and write short stories in my native tongue regularly. I collaborate with co-authors in different projects and find the connection fulfilling and of great value.In my free time, I judge stories, do some beta reading, create new products and YouTube videos, and love to read and leave reviews.Visit my website and subscribe to my quarterly newsletter.

Book preview

Prologue

Panic gripped her throat, her heart pounding in her ears the moment the dark surface closed over her head; the sudden coldness drenching every pore of her skin didn’t help her situation. She struggled to fight the torrent of emotions that flooded over her, while simultaneously realizing she had to relax in order to break through the surface. She had to free herself from the icy grip that threatened to overwhelm her at any second. She had never experienced such coldness before: Such a heaviness that pierced her right to her bones. She knew she was in morbid danger as the darkness pulled her down, even deeper into the murky water. It scared her shitless, her mind spinning as she struggled with another surge of terror as water rushed into her mouth. Belatedly, she pressed her lips together.

She desperately wanted to cough, but suppressed the urge ─ she couldn’t give in. She had to keep the precious air in her lungs for as long as she could. ‘Don’t panic,’ she encouraged herself. She couldn’t afford to open her mouth, not now.

She was too young to die. She wanted to live!

These thoughts kept on hammering through her as she trampled water, trying to find her footing on a solid base; her arms flailing in the hope to grasp a strong lifeline. Her chest was burning. It demanded air. It wanted to breathe. She kicked hard, but it felt futile. The pull of the darkness was incessant; it wanted to drag her down deeper. There was no sun, no evidence of light, just this thick blackness that enveloped everything around her. She was in danger!

Then, unexpectedly, vice-like arms clamped around her body and her head broke through the surface of the water so quickly that it shocked her system like a jolt of electricity directly to her heart. She spattered and coughed all at once before she opened her eyes in slits. As if in a haze, she saw a most welcome face.

Uncle Jack looked at her with his big, scary eyes, his face pale as he gazed at her. Drenched himself, he held her in his arms and she wrapped her arms around his thick neck, crying hysterically while he patted her back, all the while trying to calm her down. It felt like she was on fire. Everything burnt. She coughed a few times, trying to focus on anything that brought light. The haze disappeared with each blink.

Her dad was beside her the moment they stepped back on solid ground. She could feel his presence close to her. Out of breath, troubled, he asked, Are you okay, sweetie pie? Please talk to me.

She nodded in acknowledgement as she slipped into his warm embrace, nestling into his neck searching for more warmth and safety. The way she always did when she was in Daddy’s arms. His burly chest wide and comfortable; she could always lay her head down on his shoulder finding comfort there.

Oh, honey, are you okay? Mommy asked so close to Tanya that she could feel her warm breath heating her wet cheek.

Get something warm to wrap her in! Uncle Jack bellowed. The next moment Dad and Tanya were swaddled into a blanket. She still coughed, her lungs burning with the effort of inhaling and exhaling.

Here, let her drink this, Granddad said, also close by. His gruff voice unmistakably from years of chain-smoking cigarettes.

Dad, that’s brandy. I cannot give a ten year old brandy. Mom uttered, aggravated with Granddad’s suggestion.

Oh, hogwash, nothing can happen to her, she needs to get warm immediately, and brandy is the best source of heat right now.

With that a glass was held in front of Tanya’s shivering lips and tepid liquid ran down her throat. She coughed from the sudden burn, but gulped it down. Not that she knew what brandy was but at that moment it warmed her body, which was all she cared about, soothing the burning cough at the same time.

She shook uncontrollably, even inside her cosy nest. She knew it was partially because of winter: It was in the middle of August after all. But, mostly it was because of the big fright she had. That fear would stay with her forever.

Tanya knew it would be a bad idea to listen to Etienne from the start when he told her that they should rescue the frog before it died in the icy water. He knew about her love for animals and that she would never let the opportunity slip pass to help a defenceless creature. Now, after the experience, she knew that the frog had been content where it was, sitting on the balmy rock, toasting itself in the midday heat. It was in no need to be rescued by her. It was her first real lesson about deceitfulness and Tanya knew she lost a little bit of a child’s ignorance on that day ─ not knowing of all the lessons she would learn through her life yet.

Dad was stroking her back with his large, rough hands and her muscles relaxed methodically. She knew she was safe. In the few seconds she thought she was about to die, it was a terrible feeling: The feeling of total helplessness and having lost control. Tanya never wanted to feel like that ever again.

Let’s get her to the hospital. Mom said as she rushed towards the truck that had parked not too far from the river.

That’s not necessary, Estelle! shouted Granddad, She only had a scare, no need for the doctor.

Dad, she has to go for a check-up, you know how much filth is in the water…

Oh, be quiet. My word, the kid was in the water for barely a minute. She will be fine. Granddad said, stopping her mom from a further flow of words.

Take her home, run her a warm bath and let her rest, that’s the best medicine for her now. He commanded in his usual stoic manner and with that he dismissed any further arguments from her.

A rising death

Wiping the sweat away from her brow, Tanya peered straight into the scorching heat. Her face was covered by the wide-brimmed hat, her eyes protected by dark sunglasses ─ the heavy duty kind that hardly allows any light to pass through.

It was early November with no sign of rain in the sky. The previous day they had a few drops which splattered onto the dust-covered earth, but it had made no significant difference to the parched earth. They needed a downpour soaking the earth, and soon.

Death was around her in various forms, and it didn’t discriminate between the strong and the weak. It was as if the Grim Reaper had a license to kill and touched everything with robustness. Fires were a constant enemy due to the scorching heat, and with the dry winds it ran rampant over the veld destroying all in its path. At times she could swear she heard death laughing at their expense ─ he was a living being who had carte blanche on everything that had breath and he revelled in every minute of their anguish.

With a last glance over the dry veld, she turned her back on the vegetable garden and made for indoor cover. She tried to maintain the feeble veggies, but between the sun and the lack of water it was impossible. Every drop of water that she could save was put in the ground, nursing the seedlings to yield a harvest: even if it was just enough for her and her son. She didn’t ask for much, but now and then help would be appreciated, she thought with some aggression.

Ma, what will we eat tonight? Steve asked and drew her back from her morbid thoughts. Her boy has grown the last year. Again, she looked at him, fascinated, at her kid’s lanky body. Soon he would tower over her, she thought with a sad smile. Crouched in front of the fridge, he scanned the meagre contents of the ice box. She knew there was not much to look at. Their options became slimmer by the day and it pained her. She had no idea what would they do once it was done.

In town the people were already fighting about the scarce food supply and she would rather stay far away from that commotion as possible. Violence was at the order of the day and no one was safe. Law enforcement was useless and would rather take part in the looting than protect the innocent. She tried to visit the town a week ago, but only got so far as the outskirts when gunshots were fired and a bullet slammed into her car. The bullet’s trajectory ended up close to Steve’s head, leaving a burnt hole in the headrest of his seat. She knew she would not make that mistake again.

She brushed away the wisps of hair from her wet forehead, I will have to open a few cans. Get some in the cellar. she requested with a tired sigh.

She hung her hat on the doorknob, placing her spectacles on the shelf next to the now-empty spaghetti bottle. She could still remember a time when all the canisters on the shelves were filled with a variety of noodles, pastas and rice. It was her pride and joy, decorating the cheerful kitchen with all kinds of bric-a-brac. Now they were empty reminders of a past she could only vaguely recall.

Okay, Ma. He ran outside, his thick blond hair rustling as he moved. He jumped over Brutus, who lay lazing in the scant shade.

The once-beautiful oak tree gave plenty of shade when it was younger. She could remember the countless times she played under it: Her, Etienne and Susan. Now there was barely enough shade left to cover the dog’s body. How things have changed over the years!

The once-abundant country had become a shadow of its former self. With each passing year of the last thirty years things deteriorated. The more people complained, the worse it got, with a government that was only looking out for themselves. The masses that helped to get them there long forgotten. She could remember her father arguing with the Water Board about the poor maintenance and the pollution—it was like talking with ignorant children that had no idea of the importance of the issue. Later on it became worse when the sewerage systems failed and the river was polluted. Even though they tried to filter the water, E-Coli became a constant threat.

They held meetings with the councillors and ministers even went as far as to rally in front of the Union Buildings - all in an attempt to convince the regime that they had a potential problem on their hands.

Even the threat of enormous lawsuits didn’t scare them into action. They would find loopholes to cover themselves, unwilling to admit that there was a problem at all. Empty promises resulted in more decline until, thirty years later the once-blooming province became nothing more than a wasteland. This soon went on to affect the rest of the country, since Gauteng was a major source of supplies to the rest of the country. Horror stories inundated social media networks and it spread like the infection it was.

Once a fertile piece of land that delivered vegetables to a retail group within the city, which in turn supplied the whole of South Africa, they had to scale down until there was only this little piece of land left standing with their house on it.

Her grandfather was murdered during a farm attack the same year she turned twelve. He was brutally massacred. Her father’s blood curling screams still filled her ears at night when he found what was left of his father. His killers were never found. The house was burnt down, losing everything of value they had within that fire.

Her father had to try and rebuild with money he didn’t have. Then she saw the changes in him: The bursts of anger followed by long silences as depression overwhelmed him. Then the alcohol started. It was a slow process where he just didn’t give a damn about anything or anyone. He refused to take care of the simplest things on the farm and neglect was evident everywhere, even in himself.

Her mother left them when she was sixteen. She refused to take care of him any longer. She had met a black man, a wealthy businessman from the city and ran off with him the moment they had sensed a spark.

The last time she saw her, she was living in a shack near Nelspruit, alone and hopeless. Tanya had heard they had a child together. The man left her with nothing to support herself or the child. Her once-vibrant and pretty mother had become a completely different person. Lack, neglect and poverty had taken its toll over her. The bastard child, her half-brother, was playing with the kids in the filth and dirt as if it was the most natural thing to do. All the wealth the man had promised her was a scam and he had left her mom broken. She had tried to help, but after a while she couldn’t do it any longer. She barely had enough for them as it were.

She offered them a place to stay on the farm, but pride or foolishness – Tanya wasn’t sure which – caused her mother to turn a deaf ear to her assistance and she declined her offer.

Tanya tried to reason with her, gave her the full picture of her situation and that of the decaying country. Told her why they should come and stay with them, but her mother was adamant that she would make it on her own.

Tanya knew that in her mom’s mind she still hoped that the man would come back, even after all those years. Looking at her half-brother she could recognize the fear of want in him – maybe he had been the reason she took the time to talk some sense into her mother. He seemed like a bright youngster but schooling wasn’t in his future now and she doubted it ever would be if things continued the way they were going. When she rode away from the informal settlement that day she knew she would never see her mother again. That was four years ago.

At the age of sixteen Tanya took over the position of mother to the youngest children and had taken the responsibility of running the farm. Her father would disappear for days, just to be found somewhere he had fallen asleep again after another drunken binge. Sometime later, he too left the farm and became a bum. Her father died a broken man who couldn’t accept the changes or face the neglect. The sheer powerlessness of the problems that he had to face continued to mount and it eventually drained his will to fight.

Now, on days like this, she could understand his despair that she felt most days. Powerless.

Unlike her father, she had the will to confront things, but nowadays even her will was starting to slip. She knew it. She didn’t see what he had seen in his time, so she was in no position to judge him.

The death of his own father broke him. The death of his land and dwindling account left him bankrupt in both body and soul. She could only tap into the strength of the love for her son and the country she still had after all this time. She owed it to her son to give him something better.

What? She had no idea.

How? She had no plan.

However, the fact remained that she had to keep going, even if it took all her willpower to get ahead.

The acid water seeping through the pores of the earth poisoned everything it touched. Because they had nowhere to go, they stayed.

They referred to it as ‘blood water’ due to its coppery colour. The water had already reached the western borders of the property. The neighbours on that side of the fence had abandoned ship ages ago, leaving the once blooming farm to become another wasteland. The stench would reach them on days that the wind was blowing from that direction, reminding them of what their future held. At times it would be so bad they were forced to wear medical masks. At times fresh air was a luxury that many could not afford and people would simply collapse due to the lack of it.

Where could you go in any case if the rest of the territory looked like this?

Out of pure frustration and in the hopes that things would turn for the better, she married Derek, another farmer when she was only nineteen years old. Her son was the only good that had come from it.

Now, it was only the two of them left and she had no idea how to move forward. The work that she did in town didn’t bring in enough for them to survive. After their ordeal a week ago she abruptly called her former boss and told him that she quit with immediate effect.

He tried to convince her but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Far and wide it was the same struggle, the same desperation, with people losing the battle day after day. Still, the government told the rest of the world that we were a thriving country that had no problems.

While they sipped their expensive whiskey out of crystal, they continued to steal from the land; emptying the state coffers with a greedy speed. Nothing was safe in their hands – government pensions like Parastatal Organizations disappeared overnight leaving thousands of pensioners stranded, forever dependable on other people to survive. The government of the day had no problem taking what didn’t belong to them while living lavishly in their mansions.

Misappropriations of government resources were never resolved, even after long court battles. Fingers pointed to the former president but he had rejected the allegations brought against him. He was assassinated two days before the next election in 2019. He thought he would have another term, but an unknown shooter cut his dreams of a further term as president short. He was gunned down in broad daylight at the very place that he had built with corrupted funds, no tears were shed and the sniper was never apprehended. Oh, there were many speculations, of course, but nothing was ever confirmed. It was just another unresolved murder that was swept under the carpet.

She heard that the stronghold was kaput. Nothing was left of the once-pristine place. The previously immaculate pool that made headlines was now a rubbish heap. The squatters simply had taken over and the still-remaining presidential family lives in fear for their lives.

They say Karma is a bitch as no one seemed to care enough to help them. They had worn out every favour, depleted their bank accounts and lived like beggars. Immediately after the election in 2019 the military was declared bankrupt and was swiftly removed from the stately family house.

The police would only protect them for money, but they had nothing to pay them with. Tanya had heard that some of the women were used by the men for services rendered to them. Allegations of abuse and rape were filtering through but no one cared enough to help. They were all alone in a sea of squatters that controlled that area now.

They thought that things would change with the newly elected president, but he soon showed that he was another greedy vulture out only for himself and six months later he was overpowered and killed in