The Amulet of Power (22 page)

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Authors: Mike Resnick

BOOK: The Amulet of Power
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28

On the right was the mountain; on the left were the treetops, and a dropoff that would surely kill them.

The car continued careening down the hill, and suddenly Lara leaned on the horn.

The sound panicked the elephants, and they broke for cover on the downslope, pushing the youngest to safety first. One matriarch turned to face the car, trumpeting her rage, ears spread, trunk extended, and Lara was sure they were going to collide with the six-ton behemoth, but at the last second the elephant lost her nerve and raced after the others. The car missed her by less than six inches.

But they weren’t out of danger yet, because they still had no brakes and they were still racing down the steep, winding, single-lane mountain road. Every time they came to a curve she leaned on the horn again to warn whatever unseen animals or vehicles might be ahead. Once they almost ran head-first into a bull buffalo, and another time they barely avoided a greater kudu. A pair of baboons were too slow reacting to the horn, and their shattered bodies went flying down the mountain as Lara tried desperately to stay on the road.

Finally she spun onto a turnoff, where the ground leveled out, and a minute later she was able to bring the car to a halt. She sat, tense and motionless, her sweating hands still gripping the steering wheel.

“Where are we?” she asked at last. “Where does this road lead to?”

“We’re a couple of miles from the Ark,” said Oliver. “Just give my heart a minute to stop pounding and we’ll start walking. Once we’re there I’ll send someone back to tow the car.”

“I don’t see any other car tracks,” she noted, staring at the dirt road.

“Cars don’t come to the Ark very often,” replied Oliver. “Usually a bus picks up all the tourists at the Aberdares Country Club and drives them here as a group. This is just a service road; it probably gets used twice a week, tops.” He opened the door. “Come on. If we hurry we’ll make it there before dark.”

“Will the place be full, do you think?” she asked, getting out of the car. She unstrapped her holsters and put it and the pistols into Oliver’s unused backpack, which she then slung over her shoulders.

“The animal spotter on duty tonight is Franz Theibolt,” answered Oliver. “He’s a friend from the old days. If there’s nothing else available, you can have his room.”

“I wasn’t concerned about a room,” she said. “I just wondered how many people we’re going to have to check out before we can relax.”

“We’ll know when we get there,” he replied. “There are maybe fifty-five or sixty rooms, and they usually run close to a full house.”

They began walking along the dirt road. A few baboons stopped to watch them.

“Well, that’s a comfort, anyway,” remarked Oliver.

“The baboons?”

He nodded. “As long as they’re out in the open, it means there aren’t any leopards around.”

A bushbuck loped across the road some twenty yards ahead of them, and then a pair of giant forest hogs appeared, rooting industriously through the high grasses that lined the road. Lara kept waiting for something bigger to come along and claim right-of-way, something like an elephant or a buffalo, but none appeared, and after ten minutes she finally saw the Ark in the distance.

“You know, from here it really does look like Noah’s Ark,” she remarked. “Or at least like I’ve always imagined it.”

“Except that it’s well over a mile above sea level.”

“So’s the real one.”

He stopped and stared at her. “You mean you’ve actually
found
it?”

Lara laughed. “Sorry, Malcolm. I couldn’t resist teasing you. No, I haven’t found Noah’s Ark. But then again, I haven’t looked for it either. Not yet, anyway.”

They reached the huge structure in another five minutes. A number of people on one of the viewing platforms spotted them and stared curiously as they walked to a door at ground level.

“Hey, fella!” said one of the tourists. “Can’t you read? No one’s allowed to go wandering around the area. You have to stay in the Ark.”

Oliver ignored him and entered the Ark, then led Lara up a service stairway to the main level, the one that held the bedrooms, the dining room, and the viewing platforms and balconies.

An ancient, khaki-clad man, his thin white hair barely visible against the pink shine of his near-bald pate, walked up to them.

“Malcolm!” he said. “What the hell were you doing walking around here?”

Oliver gave him a cock-and-bull story about poachers and blown tires. Then he and Lara stepped out onto one of the platforms overlooking the salt lick and the water hole. They spent a few minutes watching some giant forest hogs, perhaps the same they had encountered on the service road, come by to drink. A bongo arrived next, went directly to the salt lick, had his fill, took a drink, and soon vanished back into the forest.

When the excitement over Oliver and Lara’s sudden appearance had died down, Theibolt caught their eye and wandered down the hall to the very last room. They waited a moment to make sure no one was watching them, then followed him.

“All right, Malcolm,” said Theibolt when they had entered his room and shut the door behind them, “what the hell is going on? I haven’t heard a gunshot all week, and I’m not so old and blind that I can’t tell the lady is carrying guns in her shoulder bag, or that you’ve got your Magnum tucked under your shirt.”

“I can’t tell you everything,” said Oliver. “But this woman is a friend, and she’s in serious danger. We need to stay here for the night.”

“We’ve always got a couple of extra rooms the public doesn’t know about,” responded Theibolt. He turned to Lara. “What’s your name, Miss—and who’s after you?”

“You’ll live longer if you don’t know the answer to either question,” said Lara.

“You make it sound very mysterious.”

“It’s very
dangerous
,” said Oliver. “Trust me.”

“I believe you,” said Theibolt. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yes,” said Oliver. “I need to get to a phone tonight.”

“We don’t have any phones, but we’ve got a radio, if that’ll do.”

“Yeah, that’ll be fine.”

“Anything else?”

“Someone’s messed my car up pretty badly. It’s about two miles down the service road. Have it towed in and see if anyone can repair it in the next few days, and if not, tow it to the shop in Nyeri. It’s going to need a brake job and a new transmission at the very least.” Oliver paused. “And I’ll need to borrow a vehicle tomorrow morning.”

“No problem,” said Theibolt. “We’ve got a few safari cars tucked away. We use them to patrol for poachers. It’s about the only excitement I get these days.”

“Let’s hope we don’t bring you any more,” said Oliver. “Now, where’s the radio?”

“In the manager’s office,” answered Theibolt. “I have to warn you that it’s like the rest of the Ark. Except for the viewing decks, space is at a premium.”

“I’ll tell you what,” said Oliver. “The lady and I will have dinner, and then, after we’re sure it’s safe, I’ll go to the office with you and use the radio. I don’t think it’ll take more than fifteen or twenty minutes.”

“Sounds good,” said Theibolt. “It’s starting to get dark now, so the money animals should be coming down to drink. I’d better go back to the deck and tell the people what they’re looking at.”

“The money animals?” repeated Lara.

“Elephants, rhino, maybe a leopard or two,” answered Theibolt. “The stuff the tourists pay their money to see.”

He ushered them out into the corridor, locked the door to his room, and escorted them back to the deck. When he began pointing out the obvious to the tourists, Oliver and Lara decided it was time to go grab some dinner.

A burly waiter barred the way to the dining room. “Everyone eats at the same time,” he announced.

Oliver pulled out his never-rescinded police badge. “Not quite everyone,” he said, flashing it before the man’s eyes and brushing by him before he could protest.

Lara joined him, and they sat at a table in the corner of the room, the walls at their backs.

“What do you need with the radio?” she asked as they waited for their food to arrive.

“Your Air Kenya flight is Tuesday, right?”

“Yes.”

“At the rate people keep trying to kill you, I’m not sure either of us can last that long,” said Oliver seriously. “There are a number of small charter companies operating out of Wilson Airport, the little airport near the Nairobi Game Park. I thought I’d see if I can get us a flight to the Seychelles tomorrow. That way we just might survive.”

“We?”

He nodded. “They tried to kill me, too. I have a right to see this thing through to the end.”

“I suppose maybe you do.”

“Well, that’s settled,” said Oliver. “I’ll try to arrange something for late morning. The kind of small plane we charter will never make it to the Seychelles without stopping to refuel in Mombasa. We’re probably looking at anywhere from five to seven hours for the trip.”

“Then let’s leave earlier,” said Lara.

“Can’t be done. We’re in a national park. They won’t let us out until the gates open. If we try to crash through, they’ll assume we’re poachers and start shooting—and you really don’t need any more people trying to shoot you. Anyway, it’s a two-hour drive back to Nairobi, so late morning makes the most sense.”

Dinner arrived, and they broke off their conversation while they ate. When they were finished Oliver took his leave of her, hunted up Theibolt, and went to the office to use the radio, while Lara began wandering around the Ark.

All the game-viewing activities were in the back, by the water hole, and since she wanted to avoid any crowds she strolled in the other direction. When she reached the front of the Ark she saw a long wooden walkway leading over a gorge to the area where the bus that had brought the tourists was parked for the night. She heard a deep cough, the type a lion might make, coming from the gorge. She went about halfway down the walkway and looked over the railing, but she couldn’t see anything.

Then she became aware that she was no longer alone. The burly waiter was slowly approaching her, a wicked-looking butcher knife in his hand. She took a step toward the parking area, then stopped as a smaller man, clutching a dagger, climbed out of the bus and began approaching her.

Undaunted, she reached down for her pistols—and suddenly realized that they were still in her shoulder bag. Instead, she reached into her boot and withdrew the Scalpel of Isis.

Neither man made a sound as they approached her, and she, too, remained silent. Oliver and Theibolt were locked away in an office, working the radio, and the last thing she needed was for some unarmed tourist with delusions of grandeur to hear a commotion and come to her rescue.

She saw no advantage in waiting for them both to charge her from opposite directions, so she quickly appraised both men, decided that the one from the bus would be an easier adversary, and instantly raced toward him. Startled, he took a defensive posture, but instead of charging straight at him she ran toward the railing, leaped onto it, raced down its length until she was even with him, and delivered a swift kick to his head.

He spun around, staggered, and swung his knife blindly at her. She hurled herself through the air, turning a complete somersault eight feet above the ground, and landed directly behind him, where she slashed out with the dagger, sliced his wrist, and caused him to drop his own knife.

He took a swing at her, but it was obvious he wasn’t used to fighting without a weapon. She blocked his blow, jabbed a thumb into his throat, then sidestepped his blind charge and listened to his scream as he plunged over the rail and into the gorge.

She turned to meet the waiter. He had the butcher knife held high above his head, and as it plunged down at her she grabbed his hand, fell backward, lifted her feet, and hurled him over her head. His own momentum carried him through the air and he landed heavily on his back, as the butcher knife went clattering along the walkway and finally fell through the wooden slats into the gorge.

The man was on his feet instantly. He reached out for her, and she grabbed his wrist, twisting it sharply. He dropped to one knee, and she landed a blow to the side of his head. He grunted in pain, but was on his feet again a moment later.

The big man began circling to his left, and Lara turned to face him. He took a step forward, she backed away, and suddenly felt the rail behind her.

“I have you now!” he rasped and dove for her.

She tried to sidestep, but his arms were spread too wide, and as he grabbed her the pair of them crashed against the railing. Lara felt it give way, and then they were rolling over the edge, into the gorge. Desperately she reached for the edge of the walkway, and her fingers barely grasped it. The waiter began falling and latched on to her leg.

The additional weight almost yanked her loose, but she kicked his head twice with her free foot, and just when she was sure she couldn’t hold on any longer, he lost his own grip on her and fell into the gorge.

Lara looked down, saw both men getting to their feet, and after pulling herself back up onto the walkway, began rush-ing back to the Ark, planning to lock all the ground-level doors so they couldn’t come after her again.

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