Shane Jansens van Rensburg is a South African blogger and writer; he focuses largely on what is going on in South Africa at the moment and is very direct and straight forward! The ruling party does not care for him as he calls them out on all their corruption and illegal doings! His life has been threatened more than once but it seems to have the opposite effect on him and just serves to make him more vocal and outspoken.
He was born in South Africa and served in its military under the previous dispensation. He is Passionate about his country and all the wonderful people that make it the amazing place that it is. He also feels it is his sworn duty to take on those that would destroy his homeland.
He is married to Michelle who he calls his amazing woman, who is his inspiration and the wind beneath his wings, and is also the pack leader of two small dogs. A daschie and a pug.
Firstly I would like to thank my wonderful wife, Michelle who patiently left me to my own devices when I felt the need to write. And my amazing little dogs, Bokkie and Pugsly who kept my feet warm while I was writing.
I would also like to thank all the amazing people in my life that stand by my side as we fight this war in the hope of putting an end to the on-going genocide that is taking place in South Africa. And a special thanks to Johan PB Prinsloo and Joan van der Merwe who took time out of their busy lives to read my manuscript and provide me with much appreciated feedback.
I would also like to thank Griffin Sorour for being willing to be cast as “Shane” the hero of the story on the cover art. The credit for the photo on the cover goes to Lewis Abbott and he can be contacted through the author.
1) Please take note that there is torture and bloodshed in this book, sadly it is a reality for those of us that live in South Africa.
2) There are parts of the story that are in italics, I have done this to show that the characters are speaking in Zulu.
3) All the characters in this book are completely fictional and any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental and not the intention of the author.
South Africa; circa 2006 the so called rainbow nation of South Africa is at best a bad joke and the white South Africans have found themselves, marginalised and the target of draconian affirmative action laws that make them almost impossible to employ. They are under constant threat of rape, torture and death by millions of black South Africans who hate them and believe they should not be in Africa! The corrupt ANC government denies that there is any kind of threat to the white people in South Africa, this despite the fact that tens of thousands of whites have been brutally murdered since they took office. South Africa has become the rape Capital of the world where a woman is raped at least every 60 seconds.
The world at large fails to see that South Africa is teetering on the verge of a massive genocide. The ANC has fostered a culture of black supremacy and entitlement that the world unknowingly has fed with financial aid to the point where the ANC has become a “fat cat” buddy system that lines its pockets with the world’s money, never even considering spending any of the financial aid on the poor people it was meant for. It has spawned a new generation of black elite that are rich beyond comprehension while the grassroots people are worse off than they have ever been before. The whites who could afford it had already left the country in their millions. What remained were those without the financial or emotional ability to leave this country. The epidemic of home invasions and farm attacks are so brutal in nature that it defies logic or explanation, and those who remain face the constant threat of this terrible practice reaching their doorsteps every day. The police do little or nothing to prevent it and in more recent years it has been discovered that they are more often than not involved in the attacks.
After the ANC took power in 1994 they started a Truth and Reconciliation Committee. This committee heard from the victims and the perpetrators of human rights violations under the previous government. It was later more of a witch hunt to find and punish all the soldiers and police men who had committed acts of violence on black people. The white people of South Africa are the first to admit that there were some violent crazies like the “Wit wolf” (white wolf) who took matters into their own hands and murdered innocent black people. They would also agree that people like him should face the full force of the law. But what happened in the end was that men who had merely followed orders were being held responsible for actions they had no control over. At the end the TRC was not about reconciliation but rather about assigning blame and financial rewards for the victims, as with most things in Africa it always boils down to who gets what for nothing.
CAPTAIN SHANE VAN DER MERWE.
Shane was a captain in the Special Forces and was later seconded to the “CCB” a specialised unit that operated out of a base called “Vlakplaas” (Loosely translated it means Flat farm). They were an extremely specialised unit of specially chosen men who had exceeded all expectations and challenges the military had thrown at them. They were not from one sector of the military but were from all branches of the military and police force and thrown together into a large collection of very dangerous men. These were the men the previous government had called on to do the things that they could not ask of normal men. The unit was now disbanded and only spoken of in hushed tones and called things like the "death squad" and the "killing teams".
Shane was a big man standing 6’3 in his bare feet and weighing in at 120kgs, without any fat on his body. He had green eyes that were so vivid people had said that it felt like he looked through them right into their souls. He was of Afrikaner decent and was a fine example of the stout and rugged men who had carved out a civilization in darkest Africa, he was darkly tanned from long hours in the sun and his hair, which he kept very short was bleached a dirty blonde by the African sun. Shane had received the same warning that others of his unit had received that the police were planning to arrest them and force them to appear before the TRC while being held in prison. He had no intention of going to jail for serving his country, so with the use of contacts he had built up over the years he left the country and became a mercenary, he had been in Iraq, Afghanistan and various other countries where he had plied his trade. But like most true Afrikaners he longed for home and was never quite at peace, he always felt like he had deserted his people, so after just over six years fighting other peoples wars he headed home and as he was suspecting was arrested when he landed at Johannesburg International Airport.
They wasted no time in informing him that he had been sentenced to ten years hard labour in absentia. He never said much, as he had resigned himself to his fate, and being locked up at home was to Shane better than being free and lost in another country, besides he was tired and could do with some rest.
He had been walking for kilometres; he had lost count of how many kilometres. It did not really matter as he was not going anywhere in particular; he just needed to be on the move. This was not your ordinary man, and he was most certainly not a bum or a hobo. Shane walked as if he was going somewhere; he walked with purpose, only he was not sure what that purpose was, just that it was out there.
The hot sun that beat down on his head and neck felt great and he was not trying to avoid it at all, he had spent the better part of the last 5 years in a correctional facility working in the fields growing food for the thousands of other inmates that were held there, so his skin was hard and withstood the onslaught of the sun like old leather. Unlike most of the other inmates he was not incarcerated for any normal crimes. No, Shane had been locked up for being part of a special military unit under the previous dispensation.
He had refused to testify before the truth and reconciliation commission and was therefore sentenced to ten years hard labour. He did not have a rich and powerful family or political connections so nobody fought for his release. So he kept his head down and did his time with the minimum of fuss. The unit he had served in had been disbanded and was now only mentioned in quite whispers and called things like “The death Squad” or “The killing team”. From time to time while in prison, he would read about old mates who had served with him. Most of the time, it was a report on how they had come to some sort of untimely death.
From the view point of a professional like Shane it was pretty easy to see that they had not died naturally or by accident. So in a way he considered himself lucky, as long as he was locked up they (the ANC) did not consider him a threat, and as long as he kept to himself in the prison they would not feel the need to silence him. So for the largest part of his time in prison Shane kept to himself.
Until one Friday afternoon while in the field working the prison crops, two other inmates had decided to take the opportunity to escape, part of their plan was to disarm and kill the lone warder who had been charged with keeping an eye on them while they worked. Sergeant Piet van Deventer was a nice guy that had been looking after Shane while he worked for the better part of three years, he was a friendly, and fair person that Shane had dubbed “Spekkies” because of his rotund shape largely due to the huge lunch packs his wife packed for him to take to work which he often shared with Shane.
So when the unexpected and vicious attack took place Shane tried hard to look the other way as expected in prison, but it is just not who he is. By the time he reached the spot where they were attacking “Spekkies” he had already been stabbed three times and was bleeding profusely. A swift kick in the head of the inmate that was straddling the warder and stabbing him broke the inmate’s neck and killed him instantly.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
The second inmate screamed.
"I am not going to let you kill him, so get the fuck out of here, just go!"
The second inmate, a violent criminal known as “Usher” then made the biggest mistake of his life and attacked Shane with a very large knife fashioned out of one of the farming tools they used in the field.
He swung the knife at Shane with all his power and had it been anyone else he would probably have decapitated them, but sadly for him it was not anybody else. It was Shane, with years of military training and experience under his belt. Shane easily ducked under the deadly swipe and grabbed hold of the inmate’s arm, twisting it up viciously behind the man’s back until he heard the bone snap, then he proceeded to silence the man’s screams by pushing the knife up deep under his ribs and into his heart.
He dropped the dead inmate on the ground and turned his attention to Spekkies who was in bad shape, but there was still a faint heartbeat and shallow breathing so he had a chance. Shane tried to stem the flow of blood and used the warder’s radio to call for help. When they came, they came in force and while some tended to Spekkies the others went into attack mode and descended on Shane with brutal force, beating him viciously with their truncheons which they called donkie piel’s (donkey penis). Shane knew it was pointless to try and defend himself against such overwhelming odds and just curled up into a ball and tried to protect his head as much as he could. The beating went on and on until gratefully unconsciousness took over.
He woke up two days later in the prison hospital in so much pain that he hoped unconsciousness would return soon. Thankfully it did. When he woke again the commanding officer of the prison was standing next to his bed.
"How are you feeling van der Merwe?"
"Like I just had the shit kicked out of me by your retarded wardens."
"Ja, I am sorry about that but they presumed you were one of the okes who attacked my warder."
"Ja, because I am in the habit of trying to kill people and then changing my mind and trying to save them?? Your warders are fucking morons!!"
"Be that as it may, I have spoken to Spekkies and he has told me what took place out there in the field, he also asked me to tell you he will be forever grateful to you for saving his arse."
"Ja, that’s no problem, Spekkies is a decent human being and did not deserve to die, your other warders however deserve whatever shit comes their way."
"Ja, van der Merwe, let’s not worry about that now, I have spoken to the Minister of corrections and he has agreed that your actions have won you an early release from prison, so as soon as you are given the thumbs up by the doctor we will release you. Is there anybody I can contact for you to let them know you are coming?"
At first it did not register in Shanes mind,
"Did you hear me van der Merwe? Or did the beating fuck up your ears as well?"
"I heard you just fine, and no I would like my arrival to be a surprise."
The truth was that there was nobody he could think of that mattered enough to be informed of his impending release. His family did not much care for him because he refused to testify before the commission and put them through the embarrassment of his incarceration.
The next few days went by in a blur of medication to treat his wounds and officials with forms for him to sign that would prevent him from suing the department of corrections for the damage suffered at the hands of the overzealous warders who had almost beat him to death. Luckily these irritations were regularly interrupted by Santie, the chubby but cute wife of Spekkies, the warder whose life he had saved. The first time she came she had hugged him and cried and sobbed about how grateful she was. Shane had held her a little hard and a little too long, but she had smelled so nice that he could not help it; it had been a long time since he had felt the embrace of another human being. She had blushed a deep scarlet red when he let her go and spent some time pulling her jersey around her and fixing her hair, Shane found it quite endearing. She spent the next couple of days storming in and out of the prison hospital with all kinds of real “boere kos” (traditional South African food) that Shane had long since thought he would never taste again, things like warm dinner with meat and three vegetables, milk tart and koek sisters!!
Shane was pretty sure that the rapid healing of his body had more to do with Santie’s food than with anything the medical staff had done for him. He could feel the strength flowing back into his muscles and it felt good. When they finally released him from the hospital section of the prison, they escorted him to reception; it had not changed in the last couple of years since his arrest. It was still a stark cold room that smelled of fear and desolation.
They had all the paper work ready for him to sign and returned his jeans, t-shirt and boots that he had been wearing when they had come for him. His wallet was also there but had no cash in it; the cash had long since been stolen, his bank card was also gone, the money he had earned as a mercenary was forfeited to the state because it was illegal for South Africans to serve as mercenaries. So it was just a wallet with some old business cards and his military ID and a piece of paper with the name of some girl on it who had written down her number for him to call her. He crumpled it up and threw it on the ground, a lot of good that would do him after more than four years.
When he walked out of the gate and back into the world of free men, it hit him how different the air tasted out here, it was sweet and devoid of human stench. He was just about to head down the road when he heard her shouting,
"yoo-hoo!! Shane! Over here."
It was Santie standing next to a Ford Focus. He walked over to the car and saw Spekkies sitting in the passenger seat, he was pale and had lost weight. With great effort he climbed out of the car and limped to Shane.
"I wanted to shake your hand, I owe you my life!"
“It was nothing, you don’t owe me anything. Just get better and go back to work and keep those savages where they belong."
Spekkies lifted his shirt to show a plastic bag attached to his side,
"I won’t be returning, that knife did a lot of damage and I am stuck with this little shit bag for the rest of my life."
"Gees sorry mate, that truly sucks!"
"Not at all, I am happy to be alive and the pay-out we got from the government has set us up for life."
"Well if you are happy then I am happy! So go make a whole bunch of little boere babies and be good to Santie she is a good woman."
"That’s the plan, but we want to help you for saving me? Anything, just name it?"
"Well there is one thing; I could do with a lift out of Pretoria, the sooner this city sees my back the better."
That was hundreds of kilometres back, two trucks and one bakkie (pickup) later and he was now in the Vrystaat (freestate – a province in South Africa), it was a pretty sparsely populated area with towns spread out quite far from each other, so he had been walking for miles and it felt good, it felt really good. He thought he might just keep going indefinitely for a very long time just because he could. He had not eaten in quite a while but he was still enjoying the effects of Santie’s cooking. So it was not a problem, and he had two thousand rand in his pocket that spekkies had insisted he take to tide him over till he got wherever he was going.
He had no idea where he was going or what he was going to do, it just felt so good to be free that it did not seem to matter. It started to rain like it can only rain in the Vrystaat area, suddenly and without warning, a downpour of huge drops of sweet water that came down with such force if you did not know better you would think the area was going to flood.
So there he was walking in a torrential downpour with no luggage and laughing like a loon, and enjoying every minute of it. It was at this point that an Isuzu bakkie pulled up next to him. It was driven by a woman in her late twenties maybe early thirties. She rolled down the window and asked if he wanted a lift and to get out of the rain. He was enjoying it so much he almost said no. But it was getting late and he wanted to get closer to a town, so he accepted her offer.
For the first couple of miles she did not say anything and just stared at him every now and then. When she finally spoke she said,
"Don’t try anything stupid, I have a 9mm strapped to my leg and know how to use it! I would hate to have to shoot you."
“No problem Mevrou (Mrs) I am no threat to you, you have my word."
"I’ll be the judge of that, you just behave yourself. Where are you going?"
"Just to the next town if you don’t mind?"
"Well actually the next town is 75kms away and I am turning off in about 50kms to our farm. But at least you won’t be in the rain anymore."
Over the next couple of minutes she interrogated Shane from every angle and asked about his journey and the reasons for it. He told her that he was out of work and was looking for work in the area. He thought it best to leave out the part about being fresh out of prison in case she got scared and decided to point her 9mm at him. When she asked where his baggage was he told her another lie and said it had been stolen by a bunch of blacks further back down the road.
"You don’t look too much worse for the wear for someone who was robbed?"
"I ran away" he said.
"A strapping big oke like you? Dis n skaande!!(You should be ashamed)"
Her name was Karien and she was duly unimpressed with his supposed cowardice. Suddenly she was crying,
"We need more men like my pa!(dad) We were attacked on the farm night before last by a bunch of savages who think they can just take what we own simply because we are white!! Well they got a moerse (very big) surprise! My old pa was ready for them and put up a hell of a fight, he killed two with his 9mm before one of the bastards got a shot off and hit him in the chest. If I was not busy helping him I would have gone after them and killed them myself, I am not afraid of these barbaric savages that this government has spawned."
"I am sorry to hear that, is your pa ok?"
"He is in the hospital at Bloemfontein; he underwent surgery and is still in intensive care, they are not sure if he will pull through."
"I hope he will be fine, he sounds like a strong man." "He is a strong man and he better pull through because I can’t handle the plaas (farm) on my own."
"Where is your moeder (mother)?"
"She was killed a couple of years back in a hijacking when she went to buy supplies for the farm. The bastards raped and tortured her for hours before they killed her."
"Fokkit! (fuck!) I am sorry to hear that."
"Ja, it seems everyone has a terrible story to tell lately, it is like we are living in a damn war zone!"
She started to slow down and pulled off the road at a ground road that turned off to the left, there was a sign that read “mooi gedagte” (nice thought).
“This is where I turn off.”
He noticed that her hands were shaking quite badly and asked,
"Have you been back since it happened?"
"No, I was at the hospital with my pa."
"If you want I will go with you to check if it is ok?"
"You don’t have to, I am not a chicken, but I would not mind the company, but don’t get any fancy ideas, I will shoot you if you think of trying anything!!"
He closed the door that he had already opened and said, "That is understood."
As they approached the end of the farm road and got closer to the house and surrounding buildings, he could see that Karien was taking strain, Shane knew what was happening, he had seen it before many times. The fear and shock only kick in much later when you have done what you needed to do. It can be completely debilitating. Karien looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights and for a moment it looked like she was going to turn tail and get the hell out of there. But much to her credit she did not run, she just sat there not moving.
"You stay here; I will check if there is anyone here and makes sure it is safe."
She just nodded but never said a word.
Shane exited the bakkie and stood still listening to the ambient sounds and getting used to the soft light that the setting sun offered. Then he set off at a brisk pace for the house. He took in all the surrounding features with a couple of glances and mentally noted where the best and safest areas were, he also noticed a panga (machete) lying on the ground and swept it up as he passed by. For a very large man he moved with the grace of a cat and did so without making a sound. There were shards of glass everywhere and the door was lying on the ground and not hanging where it belonged.
He quietly entered through what he presumed was the front door and was confronted by what must have been quite a battle ground, there was two large patches of dried blood on the floor, and from what Karien had told him he correctly surmised that this was what remained of the first two attackers. By the size of the blood patches they most certainly did not survive their run in with Karien’s dad. He quickly checked the rest of the house but never found anything or anyone dangerous hiding in the house. As he was leaving the house he saw movement from the corner of his eye and reacted instinctively.
He swung around and crouched down at the same time,
Publisher: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG
Text: All characters in this book are fictional, any resemblance to actual people or places is purely coincidental and not intentional at all.
Images: I would like to thank Griffin Sorour for the cover image that he was willing to model for. All rights to the image are held by Lewis Abbott and he can be contacted via the author if you are interested in contracting him for his amazing photos.
Editing/Proofreading: many thanks to Johan PB Prinsloo and Joan van der Merwe for giving up their time to read my manuscript and give me much needed advice.
Publication Date: 08-31-2013
All Rights Reserved
This novel is dedicated to my wonderful wife Michelle and my two dogs, Bokkie and Pugsly. Your support is what keeps me going, and you three have always been and always will be my inspiration.