Predator Island

by Douglas Cameron

  On the ground at the base of the tree was an animal. A big animal. Sniffing the ground and now looking up. He knew that animal and it was one he didn’t want to see. The grizzly had come to call.

  Chapter 12

  Gerallt didn’t move. He just watched the bear snuffling around the bottom of the tree and showing no inclination to leave. Something needed to be done to make it leave. He pulled the dead man’s knife out of its sheaf – it was a nice Ka-Bar. Gathering a bunch of parachute cords in his left hand, he used the knife to cut them. With that handful of cords cut, the body swung free and out from the tree’s trunk. There was a jerk when it reached the end of its swing and as it started back, the tree seemed to shake, and the parachute was released from the tree’s hold and the body plummeted down. It hit the ground next to the bear who uttered a loud WUMPF and started to run into the rainforest but changed its mind. Instead it ran out of the rainforest and into the parachute, which for some reason had decided to billow at this inopportune moment rather than when it should have. There was another crashing in brush below and Gerallt turned in time to see a dark shape running south on the ground through the trees. Panther! The panther was stalking … one of us. Glad I didn’t go down first. Unlike cats who tend to stop as though scoping out the situation when covered with a sheet or blanket, the bear blundered forward and, at least momentarily hit a white wall and tumbled. It was up in a flash and attacking the chute trying to break through. All it succeeded in doing was dragging the body closer to the edge of the rainforest and getting the chute out from the cover of the trees. Then the bear stopped but only for a second before attacking the nylon fabric with its huge claws. The nylon was no match for sharp claws and the bear’s power, and a hole big enough to permit the bear’s egress was created and it continued its flight away from what it perceived as danger.

  Up in the tree, Gerallt knew that time was of the essence now because there were troops around. Troops probably looking for their lost comrade. What he didn’t know was that with the beasts around, the troops didn’t want to enter the rainforest because they were under strict orders not to interfere with the contest. The three who had shot at him in the pool were being disciplined by doing double guard duty – one tour at the encampment and then one tour at the tunnel entrance. The latter was in the middle of the night and to cap it off they had to walk to and from their posts. They were escorted by an electric pickup truck up the one-mile road from the encampment to the gate and then, having relieved the three on duty, could watch their predecessors being driven back down. At the end of their duty, they could see their replacements coming up in the truck. They then followed it down the mountain road, fortunate for the speed because the road was sand covered they didn’t eat the truck’s dust.

  The parachute had caught on the kapok in such a manner that it could only be seen afar from the top of Prometheus’s Aerie (Colina Da Rocha) as Gerallt had done and, as of this time, there were no guards posted on top of the rock hill. One of the reasons was that the climb up took, based on best estimates, half an hour.

  Gerallt quickly moved down to the lowest branch and tied a loop in the rope. Putting his foot in the loop he hung himself over the limb, and grabbing the rope with his right hand, let go with his left grabbing the rope as quickly as he could. Letting the rope slip between his hands, he quickly lowered himself to the ground. The body of the parachutist lay crumpled on the ground five feet away and he quickly assessed what he could use in the way of clothing (the jacket, pants, and shoes although the last were too small) and the pack and all the equipment belts. He was about to leave when he stopped and picked up the night vision goggles. Never know when they’ll come in handy. When he had what he needed, he threw the spear toward the center of the rainforest, coiled the rope and put it over his head as before. Then he headed back around the top of the rainforest to the western side where there was a big strangler fig that he had passed on his way earlier. That tree was old and big enough that the interior was empty, and he could climb up and be hidden from below. His trip to the tree was made without problems as the black bear was either asleep or elsewhere. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to check out what the packs contained until the morning light, so once up the tree, he settled himself as comfortably as he could and went to sleep.

  Hyma the caracal had watched everything with great interest, especially having never seen a parachute or a bear. She had sensed the black panther at the site, drawn by the same scent of ripening flesh that the bear had been. However, the smell didn’t interest Hyma. When the man had gathered what he wanted and gone to the other side of the rainforest, Hyma – again out of curiosity – had followed him. When the man settled himself in the tree, Hyma went hunting and when she had caught and eaten her fill, she came back, found a tree near the man and went to sleep.

  Chapter 13

  The rainforest wasn’t finished with the dead man. Or, at least among the predators, Val Killer, the black panther, wasn’t. It had been that odor of the man after two days hanging that had come to the nose of the Val Killer. In the cool of the evening, it had been roused and was, at least was planning on, going to visit the encampment of man again. But this odor was closer and, according to the sense of smell, was basically “fresh meat for the taking.”

  Val Killer had made his way stealthily through the rainforest but was brought to a halt by two different odors. One was that of man – alive – but mingled with the odor of the dead man meaning they were close together. The panther was close enough to them to know that they were both high in the rainforest. Not a problem because he had no trouble with heights. The other smell was more troubling – something alive, not man, but something unknown and, the panther sensed, something big. Perhaps bigger than he was. He was hungry and would tackle almost anything to obtain food, especially enough to last a day or two, but he was not “in the mood” to tackle something bigger than he was. So the remainder of trip to the prey was done stealthily. Just as he was just getting close enough to get a sense of the competition, Gerallt had cut the parachutist invader loose and the body had come crashing down through the trees. Already on the alert, the suddenness of the noise was enough to frighten him off but not very far. He heard the other animal leaving and the man coming down from the tree. He was creeping stealthily back when the man left, heading away in a direction other than that where the other animal had gone. He wondered if the man was afraid of an encounter. With the man gone and no scent warning of him or his rival being close, the panther approached the tree and found the dead body. It was bigger than the one the previous night but not too big for him to handle. He grabbed an ankle of the body and began dragging it away from the tree and deeper into the rainforest where he would find a suitable place to feast and then store his kill for another day. All that was left of the invader was his parachute and harness, his helmet and assorted paraphernalia that Gerallt hadn’t wanted. If any of the other invaders would stumble upon the site, they would be mystified and possibly frightened.

  The three invaders who were doing double duty because of their attempt to kill Gerallt in the pool at the bottom of Colina da Rocha were glad when their relief showed up at the tunnel entrance to Vulcan’s Forge in the morning of the second day of the predator contest. Once formally relieved, they started down the road, the escorting truck moving slowly despite orders to make them do double time down the mountain road. Thiago Garcia (the driver) knew the three wouldn’t have obeyed that order regardless of the consequences and didn’t push it. After all, it might be his turn soon and despite the fact that they were paid mercenaries, they were paid well and couldn’t afford to lose the income because they had families to support. The three men were all Venezuelans who had never known each other before signing up as part of Esteves's force for the takeover of São Rochelle. They had become good friends in the short time they had been together and their double duty for shooting and (they thought) killing Gerallt solidified their bond. Alejandro González, Agustin López and Axel Martin were from thre
e different regions in Venezuela and were as different as the regions were. They were known in the company as Los Tres A-migos (“The Three A-migos”) with the “A” accented because of their three first names. If you had seen them walking down the mountain and ignored the pickup truck in front of them, they would have looked like three characters from The Wizard of Oz, walking down the Yellow Brick Road in search of what they were missing.

  Alejandro González was from Ilsa Ratón, a settlement with a population of 3000 in Venezuela’s Amazonas State on an island in the Orinoco River in western Venezuela. It was essentially a border town because the left bank of the Orinoco was in Columbia. Alejandro had wanted a better life for himself and had joined the National Bolivarian Armed Forces serving six years before opting out for the more financially lucrative mercenary life. This was his first adventure. He was the tallest of the group and the most physically developed and he have been the Tin Man except he had the heart of a lover.

  Agustin López was from Santiago de León de Caracas, the official name of Caracas, Venezuela’s capital city, population 5,576,000, located on the Rio Guairá in the northern part of the country. He hated the big city and longed for a more laid-back life in the boonies of Venezuela and saw the Venezuelan military as a means to that end. He was the shortest of the three and the heaviest for his size. In looks he could have been the Cowardly Lion except his bravery was beyond compare.

  That leaves Axel Martin to be the scarecrow because he was tall and gangly although not as tall as Alejandro. And unlike the scarecrow, he didn’t need brains. He was the smartest of the three, probably the smartest of all the men in the unit if he had chosen to apply himself, but he had other interests. He met Agustin López in boot camp and they made it through together and were fortunate enough to have similar military interests and wound up in the same squad upon graduation. They worked drug trafficking for five years before hearing about the opportunity offered by Esteves. Axel Martin was from Aragua de Barcelona (population 27,025) in the Anzoátegui State which is located in the northeastern part of Venezuela. It was well known for its beaches that attract visitors from all parts of the world. It was on these beaches that Axel got his first taste of life in other parts of the world and started his desire to see as much as he could.

  That is exactly what the three were talking about during their mile-long trek back to their encampment after their eight-hour guard duty at the entrance to the volcanic home of the Seven Billionaires.

  “If I had their money, just ten percent of the money of one,” Axel was saying, “I would…”

  “Look,” Agustin said, pointing away from the road and down the side of the mountain to the rainforest. “Isn’t that a parachute?”

  Agustin had spotted the white parachute lying just outside of the rainforest because he was walking on the outside edge of the road. The first rays of the rising sun had illuminated it in such a manner that it seemed to glow against the background of usual green and brown of the island’s natural state. The three stopped and looked at it.

  “I agree,” Alejandro said. “That looks like a chute. Probably Diego’s.”

  “Well, didn’t Gutierrez offer a reward?” Agustin said.

  “Si,” Axel responded excitedly. “Three days of no duty. That would solve our problem. We get the chute and we are off our duty.”

  “But we have to get it first,” Alejandro said looking at the rocky and fairly steep slope down to the site.

  Chapter 14

  “Come on,” Axel said and started running after the pickup waving wildly with his left hand and holding his rifle in his right. Alejandro and Agustin took off after him. Thiago Garcia wasn’t paying any attention to the three following the pickup down the mountain because he was looking at the road which was anything but smooth and trying to pick the best path. The first time he knew about the discovery was when Axel wrenched the passenger door open and jumped in. Thiago stepped on the brakes and Alejandro almost ran into the tailgate he was preparing to grab and leap over to get into the truck’s bed. Agustin was just two steps behind him.

  “You can’t be here,” Thiago said. “You have to walk. That is the rule. You know…”

  “Listen,” Axel said. “Forget that. You want three days without duty?”

  Thiago stared at Axel uncomprehendingly. “Sure, but I don’t get it.”

  “We find Diego and that’s what we get, right?”

  “Si, Gutierrez said that.”

  Axel continued excitedly, “Well, we know where he is, and you take us there and we will cut you in.”

  “Tell me where to go,” Thiago said.

  Axel pointed over his right shoulder. Thiago looked down the slope.

  “You’re nuts.”

  “It’s at the base of the slope next to the rainforest. You figure out how to get there.”

  Thiago stepped on the gas and drove the truck down the road, Alejandro and Agustin holding on for dear life in the pickup’s bed. Near the base of the hill, the road took a right turn and Thiago hardly slowed down almost making a U-turn and going off the road. The terrain was bumpy, and he had to slow down out of necessity enabling Alejandro to stand up and guide the truck by banging on the roof in the direction they needed to go. Ten minutes of bumpy ride and Thiago pulled to a stop, thirty feet from the parachute.

  “Pull on up,” Axel said.

  “No,” Thiago said. “There might be one of those predators there.”

  “You’re right,” Axel said and opened the door. The four men got out of the truck, weapons at the ready, and walked toward the parachute. They could see the holes made in the chute by the grizzly but had no idea what animal had made them. That bear was halfway up the slope sleeping in a slight depression in the ground he had found and enlarged. He had been awakened by the sound of the truck bouncing across the rough terrain. Now curious and familiar with men because he had been removed from a national park because of his penchant for raiding garbage cans and campsites, he wasn’t afraid of them. As for the four, they were now doubly curious about the chute and how it had been damaged and were making their way around it toward the edge of the rainforest where the chute’s lines led. It was Agustin who sensed the bear’s presence and he looked over his shoulder.

  “Dulce madre de Jesús (Sweet mother of Jesus),” Agustin said, whirling around and pointing his rifle at the grizzly who had stopped twenty feet behind them and in the direct path back to the truck. “It’s the big bear!”

  The other three turned around bringing weapons to bear, but it had been pounded into their heads, especially the three A-migos, that they were not to shoot the predators no matter what. As a result, none of them fired. It seemed to be a standoff until the bear felt the need to assert his rights to the chute since he had “killed” it and he stood on his rear legs and roared while waving his front paws. That was enough for Thiago whose duties were always as driver, never as combatant, and he took off away from the bear which led him straight into the rainforest and into the waiting paws and jaws of the black panther. It had been drawn back to the area by the sounds of the truck and was just defending itself when Thiago entered its area.

  The other three were more steadfast and Alejandro, familiar enough with animal behavior through television shows, raised his arms above his head holding the rifle in his left and roaring back at the bear. Axel and Agustin took his cue and did the same. That was too much for the grizzly and he took off south toward the river because he needed some water anyway. The three amigos laughed as they saw the big grizzly hightailing it and were congratulating each other when Axel noticed that Thiago was missing.

  “Where did Thiago go?” he asked.

  Alejandro looked around and said, “He must be in the rainforest.”

  They called him but there was no answer. While none of them were enthusiastic about entering the rainforest because of the black panther, they had no choice. They could not go off and leave their comrade. Weapons at the ready, they advanced to the rainforest following the para
chute’s shrouds. From just under the outstretched branches of the kapok which had held Diego and his chute for over a day, they could see Thiago’s body and the panther bent over it, pulling at Thiago’s shirt.

  “Remember,” Alejandro said as he raised his rifle and the panther looked up and saw the three, “He attacked me.”

  Just as he was tightening his finger on the trigger, the panther decided he was outnumbered and was gone with one leap, the shot missing. The three amigos hurried to where Thiago lay but his wide-open unblinking eyes told them the whole story as did his bloody neck which the panther had grabbed in his initial rush and that had been all that it had taken. Alejandro took out his walkie talkie and called the base announcing that they had found Diego’s chute, but the body was missing. Then he reported that Thiago had been attacked and killed by the black panther which had once again escaped.