The Jungle Warrior (8 page)

“Nevertheless, I would like the opportunity to hear for myself whether or not he refuses to cooperate. I am particularly interested to know if he has seen or heard of the legendary White Ape.” He said the last two words slowly and they sounded thick with his accent. His eyes scanned across her bloodstained clothes.

“Now there's a coincidence,” said Clark. Robbie's eyes stayed fixed on Jane. He could see her glower, willing Clark to shut up. “Jane was just talkin' about her run-in with it. Ain't that right?”

Rokoff looked at her with a half-smile. “So the legends are true?”

“I . . . I don't know what he means.” Jane stood up. “I'm feeling pretty tired. I'm going to get some sleep.”

She walked out, head bowed. Only Robbie saw her angry expression and he felt the bonds of trust between them dissolve. Robbie's cheeks flushed as a deep sense of guilt washed over him.

“Remarkable,” said Rokoff.

“Sorry about that,” said Clark. “She's got a stubborn streak she inherited from her mother. Right, Arch? Esmée, some Tuskers here.”

Rokoff took the offered beer and clinked the neck of the bottle against Archie's. “To independent children. You have brought up a fine woman. I believe this is your camp?”

Archie took a long swig of beer as he sized Rokoff up. “You're aware of what we do here?”

“I'm not blind,” said Rokoff.

“No. And you're not mute either. Why would a conservationist turn a blind eye to all of this?”

“As I explained to your companion,” Rokoff gestured to Clark, “my interests are very
specific
. In a country such as this, you cannot afford to make enemies of those you need to work alongside. You and your people are at the forefront of exploring this wilderness and see things I can only wish I could. You're not poachers, and while I don't agree with logging, I assure you that my interest lies purely in the gorillas and not you. Not this.” He waved his hand around the room. “Your daughter has given me confirmation enough that we are exploring the right area.”

“Could you track down the gorillas without her?” asked Clark as innocently as he could.

Rokoff laughed. “There is not a creature on this planet I could not track. You only have to know where to start.”

Clark emptied his bottle and slammed it on the table, beaming.

“Excellent. Then I reckon you're welcome to hang around here, eh?” The question was aimed at Archie who had been studying the two men with suspicion.

“I suppose so,” Archie finally conceded. “But we value our privacy. If you endanger that, then you won't be so welcome.”

Rokoff nodded amiably. “I understand.”

Clark clapped his hands together. “Great. If you want the gorillas then it'll help us find what we're looking for.”

“Which is?”

“An old crashed aircraft.”

Rokoff smiled and extended his hand. “It sounds like a fine partnership.”

Robbie remained silent as the two men shookhands. Archie still didn't look as convinced as his old friend Clark. Robbie was now beginning to feel the same way.

Despite the humidity, Robbie shivered. It was as if they had just struck a deal with the devil himself.

R
obbie felt increasingly uneasy with the new pace of events. He hadn't believed for a moment that Jane really needed to sleep, but he left her alone until midday to cool off. Esmée unsuccessfully tried to gather them both for a lesson, but since Tarzan had made his appearance she was finding it harder to pin down either Robbie or Jane.

Jane sat at the edge of the camp gazing at her phone. In the past, she would have been writing emails to friends back home. Now she used the phone to type in information she had gathered about the Greystokes. She had started to spend hours pondering over it.

She was so absorbed in her research that she only noticed Robbie when his shadow fell over her. Still angry, she deliberately ignored him.

“How long are you going to keep this up?” She remained silent. Robbie sighed and sat next to her. “You can't be mad at me forever.”

“I wouldn't be so sure about that.”

Despite the atmosphere, Robbie couldn't help but smile. That was more like the old Jane.

“We're both stuck out here whether we like it or not. There's not a whole lot of space to get mad in.”

Jane put her phone down and stared at him. Her jaw muscles tensed as her anger built. “I can't believe you told that . . . that stranger all about Tarzan!”

Robbie held up his hands defensively. “Wait a second. I never mentioned Tarzan. He was looking for the gorillas.”

“They are Tarzan's family!”

“And Rokoff's trying to help them.”

“They don't need help!”

“I don't see what you're so crazy about. Surely it's a good thing that people are trying to help the gorillas? Tarzan won't be around forever . . .” Jane looked up sharply. “You were the one who suggested telling the Greystokes about him. What if he decides to leave?”

Jane looked away, but Robbie caught the hint of regret.

“He's better off here. Better off without us interfering,” she said quietly.

Robbie was thankful that she didn't see his face in case his reaction roused her suspicions. She didn't know that he and Clark had already contacted the Greystoke estate and had received an answer demanding proof of their claims.

“Shouldn't he make his own mind up about that?” Robbie asked gently.

Jane looked at him suspiciously. “What do you care?”

“He's saved my life, quite a few times now. I owe it to him.” Robbie spoke the truth, but not the whole truth. What was left unsaid made him feel sick with guilt. However, Tarzan was not his only problem right now.

“Jane. I need your advice.”

Jane abruptly stood up. “My advice is to leave him, and me, alone.” She stormed off across the camp.

“Jane!” he called after her, but she ignored him.

Robbie was angry. The whole Tarzan situation was detracting from what was really important. He'd do everything he could to help the Russian find the stupid gorillas and the aircraft—then he'd have the proof they needed to claim a reward for bringing Lord Greystoke home.

Then Robbie would be able to set about getting his life back on track.

•••

Before Jane returned to the camp, Tarzan had made an arrangement with her so she could contact him. He showed her an animal trail that cut across the camp and was relatively easy to follow. After an hour on foot, it opened into a wide clearing with ancient trees circling a dust bowl at the foot of a smooth, gently curving cliff face. The trees were hollow, long dead and devoured by insects. Tarzan called it a Dum-Dum. He beat out a specific rhythm on one of the trunks with his fists and the sound reverberated through the hollow tree; a deep bass which bounced from the curved cliff to amplify the sound across the jungle.

Jane was entranced; it sounded like melodic thunder. Her first attempts were pretty ineffective and left Tarzan laughing so hard that tears streamed down his face. She tried using a stick but it broke on impact, sending Tarzan into more fits of laughter. She found a sturdier branch and eventually got the hang of beating out the rhythm he showed her. If she wanted to contact Tarzan, she just had to beat the tattoo on the Dum-Dum and he would hear.

Jane felt claustrophobic in the camp. Robbie's attitude had annoyed her and she didn't like the look of the two Russians now hanging around. They had brought their own four-by-four, a huge modern Land Cruiser with tinted windows. Two days passed and they hadn't asked Jane any further questions, partly because she avoided them whenever she could. They never appeared to be doing much and just stayed in the camp, killing time. A couple of times, Rokoff had marched into the jungle, but he was never gone for very long. Their blatant inactivity raised Jane's suspicions.

She couldn't visit Tarzan; she knew he was busy persuading his family to move to fresh feeding pastures. However, with Rokoff lurking around, Jane wanted to warn Tarzan more with each passing day. She hoped he was at least within range of the Dum-Dum, so after several days she decided to slip away.

Rather than upset her father any further, she told him about her plan.

“I might be away for a day or two,” she said when she'd finally got him away from Rokoff and Clark. She had expected the usual bluster, but he just nodded and looked a little sad. “I'll be with Tarzan, so . . .”

“So you'll be OK.”

She had anticipated more of an argument, and his resigned attitude surprised her. She gently squeezed his hand. “Thanks, Dad.”

Jane took a machete, a rolled-up rain poncho, a full water canteen, and a few provisions in a backpack, then headed to the Dum-Dum.

The sun beat down and made the jungle blossom around her. Colorful birds and insects swooped through the trees and monkeys chattered in the distance. Despite the swarms of insects, it was a pleasant walk and she found it difficult to remember why she had hated the forest when they first arrived. She beat her tattoo on the Dum-Dum and sat back to wait.

After an hour she sensed she was being watched, although she couldn't identify exactly what was bothering her. Her eyes scanned the jungle and the feeling intensified. It was almost hostile.

Then Tarzan leaped into the clearing, landing neatly on all fours at her side. He didn't utter a single word, but his eyes narrowed as he scanned the trees too.

“What's out there?”

His face looked grave. Time seemed to stretch as they listened in silence. Then Tarzan slowly stood and pointed further along the animal trail.

“Bad men come this way,” he said. “Come.”

He headed along the track, barely making a sound. They didn't travel far before Tarzan raised his arm in a signal to stop. Jane couldn't see what the danger was until Tarzan broke a branch from an overhanging tree and tossed it ahead.

The tripwire was practically invisible, but the moment the branch broke the wire's tension, the trap was sprung. With a terrible slashing sound, a rope noose contracted and plucked the branch from the ground, lifting it high in the air. It was simple and brutal.

“Who would do something like this?” exclaimed Jane.

“Poachers.” The word growled at the back of Tarzan's throat. He indicated down another trail. Through the bushes Jane could see a deer had triggered another trap and was swaying in mid-air, its neck broken.

They all hunted meat to survive, but this was cruel. While the camp meat came from the jungle, Archie insisted that they should never use snares and killed only as much as they needed for food. She had seen Tarzan hunt with his bare hands, but he too only took what he needed. Poachers hunted in excess and often for the animals' pelts rather than for their meat.

“What would poachers be doing so far in here?” asked Jane. She was worried that poachers this close to the camp could mean trouble.

“Your father. He bring these men here!”

“No, that's not true. Nobody at the camp would do this.”

Tarzan was unconvinced. “Then why poachers here? Never come this far!”

Jane knew he was right. Something had pushed the poachers deeper into uncharted terrain. They weren't the first strangers to turn up and the coincidence was a little too much.

“Two men arrived at the camp. Rokoff and Paulvitch,” she said. “They're Russians who claim to be conserv—They study animals. They want to know where the gorillas are.”

Tarzan was instantly wary. “Jane say no?”

She hesitated and Tarzan's face fell.

“I didn't say anything!” Jane said hastily. “Robbie mentioned there were some out here. He was only trying to help,” she added quickly. She surprised herself at how easily she was defending him. “They wanted to know how many gorillas are alive.”

“They do this?” He pointed at the deer trap.

“No.” She wasn't entirely convinced by that but had no desire to condemn the Russians to the wrath of Tarzan when she had no proof. “They've spent time out in the jungle, but this . . . ?”

Tarzan shook his head in silent disagreement. He understood much more about jungle life than he was able to articulate. They carefully approached the dead deer and Tarzan cut it down with his knife. He reverently laid the animal on the ground. Its body was cold, a kill from the previous day. Anger blazed in his eyes and Jane felt anxious. She had seen Tarzan ruthlessly kill his opponents in jungle battles, and she feared that the death of an innocent deer could propel him into a rage.

“Tarzan . . .” she reached out a hand and laid it on his arm, hoping to soothe his temper. She had barely spoken when Tarzan quickly turned, raising his head attentively.

“Poacher here!” he whispered.

Jane's blood froze. Encountering poachers had not been on the day's itinerary.

“We should hide!” She quickly bolted back down the trail, in the opposite direction from where Tarzan was looking. She thought it was the same path they had taken through the foliage and only realized her mistake at the last moment when Tarzan yelled out.

“NO!”

With a terrible crack, Jane heard a trap trigger around her. A rope whipped past her ear, drawing blood from her cheek. Suddenly she felt a rope bind her knees painfully together and hoist her into the air. Pain coursed through her legs as she dangled upside down from the tree. A scream escaped her involuntarily. Even with her ears ringing she could still hear the sudden clamor in the bush and raised voices as the poachers zeroed in on their target.

•••

Nikolas Rokoff adjusted the sight on his sniper's scope and brushed a bead of perspiration from his forehead. The dense jungle forced him to follow his quarry closely, which meant he had to take extra precautions. Leaves and branches obscured most of his view, but he could see enough of Jane hanging from the trap.