The Jungle Warrior (9 page)

Stupid girl
, he thought. He had taken an instant dislike to her the moment they met.
A typical self-absorbed teenager
, he thought.

Then he saw eight poachers emerge from the bush and gather around her. They were all locals, armed with machetes and guns. Their eyes lit up with delight when they saw the new prey they had caught. They jeered amongst themselves and poked her with gun barrels until she was slowly rotating. With a flash of silver, a machete was teased along her throat as the men enjoyed frightening her.

Then Rokoff felt a shudder of excitement as a wild bellow resounded through the jungle. He had never heard such a creature before. Its call conveyed unquestionable dominance over the land and even the expert hunter felt his blood run cold.

Through the scope he saw rapid movement. The poachers turned on the unseen enemy, and gunfire cracked across the jungle. One was wrenched backward into the undergrowth and Rokoff could hear his screams abruptly extinguished.

The remaining poachers wheeled around to where their companion had vanished and automatic gunfire chewed the undergrowth apart. Rokoff watched in amazement as another poacher was hoisted into a tree by a rope that quickly tightened around his neck.

Even the girl, still dangling in mid-air, was helping to add to the confusion. She snatched a rifle from the poacher closest to her and hit him in the face with the butt of his gun. The man collapsed. Another hunter tore the rifle from her hand. Rokoff was forced to modify his opinion of her; she had a feisty spirit.

With his attention on Jane, Rokoff missed another two men get swallowed into the jungle. He marveled at the shrewdness of their assailant. The three remaining men gathered fearfully around Jane. One plucked the rope from her hand and another, evidently their leader, shoved his rifle barrel into her ribs and shouted in Congolese French.

“
Rends-toi ou on la tue!
”

Nothing seemed to happen and the men twitched nervously, jumping at every sound the jungle made. Tension grew as the men glanced around, wondering where the next attack would come from.

Rokoff blinked. A knife suddenly embedded itself in the lead poacher's forehead. He twitched and fell to the ground. The men looked at their fallen leader in horror. It was just the break their attacker was looking for.

A muscular figure charged through the undergrowth on all fours and cannoned into the poachers. For a moment, Rokoff thought he was looking at a bald gorilla but then he adjusted the scope and focused on the deeply tanned, toned body, which was covered in a lattice of scars—some old, some quite fresh. It was certainly human.

The wild man's hands found the poachers' throats and drove both men to the floor. Rokoff was no stranger to violence and regretted that his view hid the details of how the savage dealt with his victims. Judging from the expression on Jane's face, it was brutal.

Rokoff smiled and turned to Paulvitch, who hunkered down beside him. He too had been observing the battle, grinning as if watching a movie fight rather than a real encounter with real lives at stake.

“The legends appear to be true, at last,” breathed Rokoff. He shook his head in wonder then turned to Paulvitch. “This puts Okeke's prize in the shade.”

Paulvitch looked worried. “He's paying good money. Better in my pocket than in his.”

“Don't worry, my friend. We'll fulfill his contract. My prize won't be caught so easily, but now at least the game can begin.” He looked back down the sniper's scope and watched as Jane was freed from the trap. Rokoff couldn't take his eyes off the wild man. He had never seen anything like him before. “I may have just found the perfect adversary.”

“R
obbie, where are the Russians?”

Robbie looked up and was surprised to see Jane.

Archie had told the camp not to expect to see her around today. It was raining and he had sheltered under a wooden porch on the edge of the camp, rather than in the bar with the rest of the loggers. Now Jane was standing in front of him he was suddenly aware that it looked as if he was waiting up for her. With a horrible twinge of realization, he thought maybe that was true.

“They're around,” he answered, trying to keep cool.

“They're not in the bar,” said Jane.

“Do I look like their chaperone?” said Robbie irritably. “Maybe they're in their cabin?”

Jane looked over at the cabin Archie had offered the Russians. There were no lights on. Robbie followed her gaze and thought back to when he had last seen the men.

“To be honest I haven't seen them since . . . since I last saw you.” He pointed to the edge of the camp. “Their car is still here so they must be around.” He noticed that some of the equipment was missing from the roof. He stood up and walked to the end of the porch. Jane followed him. She had spotted the missing gear too. “They must have gone somewhere," Robbie said.

“There were poachers not too far from here.”

“Out here? Did you see them?” Jane didn't meet his gaze, a sign that told him something bad had happened. Then he noticed the fresh cut close to her ear. “Are you OK?”

“I got caught in one of their traps. I think they were going to kill me.”

“But Tarzan . . . ?” He didn't even need to finish his sentence. Jane just nodded. “Then they're not a problem any more, are they?”

“I told Tarzan that Rokoff had come here and was asking about gorillas. With the sudden arrival of these poachers . . . he's suspicious. And I don't blame him.” She stared at the Land Cruiser thoughtfully. “We should look inside. It might give us a clue to their whereabouts.”

They walked over to the vehicle. The rain was now a gentle drizzle, but it seeped easily through their clothes, making them shiver. The vehicle was locked.

“Well, it was a good idea,” said Robbie. “Now let's go and get dry.”

“Can you force it open?”

Robbie gave her a measured look. “Back in New York, I was a mechanic, not a car thief. Don't get the two mixed up.”

But Jane didn't need Robbie's help. She picked up a rock and went to hurl it through the driver's window. Robbie clamped his hand around her wrist.

“What're you doing?”

“I want to look inside!”

“You can't just smash your way in. This doesn't belong to you.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

Robbie sighed. Jane was forcing him to do something he didn't want to do—yet again.

“Give me a second.”

He ran to the camp's bulldozer. He had been servicing the engine earlier in the day and had put a metal toolbox underneath to keep it out of the rain. He returned with a pair of long-nosed pliers and a length of strong wire. He inserted the pliers at the top of the door and used his weight to open them, wrestling the two handles in both hands. There was a crack of stressed metal—then the top of the door frame inched open. Robbie fashioned the end of the wire into a hook and slid it through the gap. The wire was just long enough to reach the door lock. It took several attempts, but he finally snagged the door lock-release bolt with the hook and pulled. The door opened.

“See? Better than brute force.” He carefully bent the top of the door back into shape. The paint was cracked, but it would fool a casual observer.

They climbed inside the vehicle, thankful to be out of the rain. There were more equipment boxes in the back, matte black impact cases, which usually held delicate instruments.

“So what do you expect to find?” said Robbie. “Some dead animals?”

Jane opened the nearest small case. It was empty. The packing foam inside was sculpted to hold something about the size of her satellite phone. Another, larger box was similarly empty. Jane climbed over the seats so she could get amongst the long narrow boxes. Robbie stayed in the front keeping watch. Now they were both in the car, he realized he had a captive audience.

“Jane, I really need to speak to you.”

“About what?”

“About my stepdad.” Robbie was thankful that Jane suddenly stopped and looked at him with concern. “He's looking for me.”

Jane gave him a little smile. “That's hardly surprising. You did try to kill him.”

Robbie hung his head—he wasn't proud of his actions.

“But look around you. He's not going to find you here. The world's big. Lots of places to hide.” She continued opening cases, assuming her consolatory words were effective.

“I've done a little digging around,” said Robbie as she opened another case.

“Really?” Jane was only half listening. “Looks like they've taken everything.”

“The police know I fled the country. They know I stowed away on board a cargo ship in New Jersey.”

Jane looked at him in surprise. “How?”

“They tracked my movements on CCTV. It took them a while. But they know I'm in Africa.”

Shocked, Jane now turned her full attention on Robbie. “Are you sure?”

“They've posted a ‘wanted' picture. But it gets worse. My stepfather has been giving news interviews about me. I saw one on YouTube . . .”

He trailed away. Jane encouraged him to continue, then noticed that he was looking at the box in her hands.

Inside was a large hand-held device, about the size of their phones. Robbie realized that another similar device must have been in the first empty box. The letters GPS were emblazoned on it. But that wasn't all. Jane must have accidentally brushed the “on” switch when she had opened the case. A blip flashed in the center of the screen.

“Let me see that,” said Robbie taking it from her hands.

“It's just a GPS.” Jane had seen many since her father had set up the camp. “Nothing special about that.”

“This is a very expensive piece of gear. Military grade.” Robbie had searched through equipment catalogues with Archie when they moved camps and had seen the price of high-end equipment. It was way beyond their budget. “Which means it's extremely accurate.”

Jane shrugged. She didn't know why he was getting so excited. She tapped the blip on the screen. Latitude and longitude numbers were highlighted above it. “What's this?”

“Our current location.”

Robbie opened the car door and stepped out, ignoring the rain, which had gathered pace again, and stared at the screen. He reached the bulldozer and looked back at the jeep. The blip had moved. As he slowly turned around he lined up the GPS with the Land Cruiser. Then he ran back to the vehicle.

“Give me your jacket,” he demanded.

Jane looked at him as if he was demented. “What?” “Take your jacket off!” Jane reluctantly did so. She was only wearing a T-shirt underneath, but the rain had soaked through to her skin anyway. Robbie began searching her pockets.

“What are you doing?”

“Didn't you ever watch any films?”

“No. I have friends and a life,” Jane answered, sarcastically. “Or had,” she corrected herself.

The pockets were empty. Robbie was just starting to think he was being paranoid—then his fingers found something under the collar. He unfolded it, revealing a small metal disk pinned there. He took it off and showed Jane.

“What is it?” she asked, confused.

“A GPS transmitter. The kind of tag you use to track animals. Watch.” He gestured toward the screen and threw the disk away from the vehicle. The blip on screen moved as the disk landed in the mud. “Rokoff is tracking you.”

“But why would . . . ?” She knew why. Luckily she had only been to the Dum-Dum and back.

In the moment's silence, the rain turned once more into a downpour and beat against the metal roof. Robbie's stomach churned as he thought about his part in the betrayal. He didn't believe for a second that a pair of conservationists would stoop so low. Jane turned to the longer cases. She flipped the nearest one open. It was empty, but the sculpted foam inlay clearly revealed the definition of a rifle.

“No!” gasped Jane. Then, without warning, she bolted from the vehicle and ran across the camp.

Robbie raced after her. He slipped several times in the mud but caught his balance. Jane found her footing with ease and gained distance.

“Jane! Stop!”

She wasn't listening. Impenetrable dark jungle loomed at the edge of the camp and Robbie quickened his pace. Jane finally tripped on a stump in the darkness and fell into the mud. Robbie reached her side and helped her up, clutching her arm as tightly as possible to stop her from fleeing.

“There's nothing we can do right now!” Robbie shouted over the driving rain. Jane tried to pull away from him. He could see the anxiety across her wet face and was unsure if she was crying. She struggled a little more.

“The Dum-Dum!” she shouted. Robbie looked at her blankly. Jane shoved him in the chest, pushing him backward. “Get a flashlight! We have to try!”

Robbie wanted to argue. Running into the jungle at night was a reckless thing to do—but the expression on Jane's face reflected the guilt he was feeling for bringing Rokoff to the camp. He knew it was his fault—but he had no idea just how bad things were about to get.

•••

In the mountains, the deluge of rain sounded like a herd of animals migrating through the jungle. Tarzan watched as little Karnath sat at the entrance of the aircraft fuselage, peering out and snatching at the heavy raindrops, trying to eat them. Tarzan chuckled and settled back on the folded branches that formed the nest he had created for the night. Unlike the gorillas, Tarzan preferred to sleep on the ground whenever he could, and favored the seclusion of his artificial cave even more. A few of the gorillas shared the cave and it was turning into a peaceful night as the regular patter of the rain lulled them all to sleep.

Tarzan's eyes suddenly flicked open. His keen hearing picked up something no ordinary man's could. He crept to the cave entrance and crouched beside Karnath. He strained to listen—then heard it again. It was a faint grunt from Kerchak. Something was bothering the old silverback.