“...you’re fucking weird, has anyone ever told you that?” Yekaterina shook her head at Hayden’s outburst as she repacked her magazines, combining two of her half-empty ones into a single full one, starting to wonder why someone sent him here or how well he could hide his state of mind in the outside world.

“Make a hole. Get a hammer, or a heavy wrench.” Kat commanded. Pulling the halligan out of her bag. Chain, steel bars, padlock. Old one, heavy. Not much slack on the chain, perfect. “Scratch the hammer, actually.” She wedged the shackle of the lock holding one of the tourist cages shut between the forks of the halligan tool and started twisting it. The first quarter turn pulled the remaining slack taught, another half turn started deforming the chain and then the weakest link snapped, the padlock flying off. With Hayden having already opened the other cage with non-Africans, she stowed the hallie away again, ignoring the locals. “We don’t have the manpower or equipment to get them out of here, not in that state, and they’re not all gonna fit into the Hilux either. Let’s grab the richest-looking one and make for scarper city.” She didn’t try to keep her voice down, unbothered by what the rescuees thought of it. She wasn’t particularly happy about leaving them to their fate, but they weren’t gonna help anyone if they couldn’t get out themselves. And dragging a dozen of injured and half-starved people, likely journalists and rich people who disappeared on a safari or when ‘taking a year off to discover themselves’ would be like tying yourself to an anchor before attempting a swimming record. 

“Unless any of these guys knows something that would help us.” But what were the odds either of them even knew anything about the Hyena? [i]A hyena[/i], maybe. “Who are you guys, how long have you been here?” She addressed the captive that looked the least out of it, trying to muster up the cleanest English she could and then repeating it in German to make it easier on him or anyone else who wanted to answer her.