Dark Island
Page 8
Her Smith and Wesson was lonely.
She noticed that before they headed off, Ian, Babo, and Nash all slipped their much bigger armaments into duffel bags. Ian said that it would be easier to explain why they each carried pistols than it would be why they were carrying shotguns and rifles. Babo brought with him the same weapon as Ian, while Nash chose the same assault rifle he had pointed at them from his front porch. The former SAS soldier, like Ian, also brought with him a razor-sharp knife. And like them all, he carried a handgun too.
Babo didn’t have a knife…he had a machete. It was sheathed on his left hip like he was a musketeer from old-world France. It reminded her of the one Wandu used in his fight with Ian, only that Babo’s appeared to be brand-new and freshly sharpened.
Wandu…
When the brute had grabbed her, Mack’s mind locked up, and she wilted under his gaze. The experience had reopened a wound she didn’t realize was still so fresh. Then again, she hadn’t been with a man since the incident had occurred. Would Mack react as if she was being attacked even if she was consenting to a man’s touch? She shook off the thought as they approached the base of the majestic cliff face.
“It’s not an easy way up,” Ian explained, pulling a long rope from his pack, “but it’ll save us a day’s time. Most people use the southwestern park entrance, but we’d have to drive all the way around to the other side to get there.”
Mack nodded and craned her neck up. Wow.
While the base of the massif was wider than its peak, it was still an imposing sight. Like how her long frame was well-suited for volleyball, it also made rock climbing a hell of a lot easier. She’d seen her fair share of rock walls in her youth, using them to help strengthen and tone her entire body. Mack had put the experience to good use a number of times when she was out in the field, having to scale some harsh landscapes to reach her goals.
“No problem,” she said, still looking up.
“No problem?” Nash asked.
She glanced his way. “Yep, not a problem.” She raised a single eyebrow. “Do you have a problem with it?”
The cocky man’s face hardened. He didn’t like being one-upped. He probably had an even harder time being one-upped by a woman.
Pig.
“Okay, then,” Ian said, “up we go.”
The first half of the ascent went smoothly thanks to the width of the route. But as soon as they reached a height of a hundred feet, the four-foot-wide path was cut in half, causing Mack’s stomach to churn. She wasn’t scared of heights, far from it. She was scared of falling from those heights and going splat.
They hiked all in a row, tethered together in pairs. Ian and Mack were naturally together, leaving Babo to deal with a grumbling Nash. If the whiny Brit annoyed Babo, Mack would never know. The large local hardly ever showed any emotion.
Ian said it was an excellent way to help one another if the other were to slip and fall, not that she’d be strong enough to be of any help to him. Ian outweighed her by a solid fifty or sixty pounds—maybe more. The rope was more for Mack’s safety than it was for Ian’s, she knew that. If either one of them were to fall, it would be her.
* * *
So far, they’d been moving in the same direction, rising and falling with the terrain. But as the trail narrowed, it swung right, straight into the heart of the cliff face. Not only did the footpath shrink to under three feet in width, but so did the space around their bodies. It’s like they were passing through a man-sized “V” of rock. The walls on Mack’s left and right, each at least forty feet high, gave her a horrible claustrophobic feeling. She could almost feel the mountain squeezing her tighter and tighter.
“I don’t like this,” she said, slowing.
Ian kept moving, his shoulders just fitting into the gap, and he spoke over his shoulder, not being able to turn around. “Just keep your eyes on me and not the path. I’ve been through here enough times to know that it’s safe.”
“Speak for yourself,” Babo muttered. Mack glanced back and grinned as Babo had to walk at an angle to fit his broader shoulders through. It was hard enough for the three men to make the trek while carrying their duffel bags. The tight confines of the trail made it that much harder. Mack needed to consider herself fortunate that she only had her backpack and bedroll.
Facing forward, she breathed in deep and did as Ian said, focusing on the back of his head and not her surroundings. It helped some, but the foreboding feeling of being crushed was still gut-punching her every few seconds, turning into borderline nausea.
The world around them began to shake.
“Shit…” Ian grumbled, moving faster.
Being attached to him, Mack was forced to keep pace, moving at an awkward jog. The path banked to the right and headed back out to the cliff face. If Mack wasn’t nervous now, she would be in seconds as the tremors strengthened, cracking the rock around them.
“Move your asses!” Nash yelled from behind. “It’s like a bloody paint mixer back here.”
“No shit!” Mack shouted back. “It’s not much better up here!”
She could barely hear her own words. The snapping of the rock around her was deafening. She couldn’t see where it was physically breaking, which was a good thing. If they got trapped in this corridor, she wasn’t sure they’d be able to climb out with how steep the walls were.
Preoccupied with not tumbling to the ground, Mack didn’t notice Ian slowing down. She tried to stop, but tripped and rolled her ankle, bowling into the back of his legs. Landing hard on her hands and knees, Mack noticed two things. First, Ian had opened his legs far enough apart for her to roll between them. The other thing she noticed is that her head was hanging out over an expanse of nothing. But it wasn’t the dizzying height that terrified her the most, it was when the stone beneath her broke away.
“Ian!”
Mack screamed and clawed for purchase but found none. She just tipped forward, having only her knees on solid ground. Her weight was already too far forward, and she had no way of leaning back and saving herself from the fatal fall.
But Ian could.
Just before Mack’s entire body went horizontal, her descent violently jerked to a halt. There, utterly helpless, she hung a hundred feet above the ground. Arms out wide, Mack tried everything she could to balance herself. Finding equilibrium, she was slowly hauled back up, pulled from behind. The rope tethered to her waist had been caught.
“I…have you,” her savior said, grunting as he spoke.
Ian…
She was halfway up when her knees began to slide forward. The smooth surface of the stone wasn’t gripping her jeans any further. Soon, she’d slip off the newly-formed ledge and dangle like a fish on a hook. While the increasing angle brought her closer to the ledge, it also brought her closer to her potential death.
“Hurry up!” she cried, tears blurring her vision. Mack had no idea if her sudden fall would also pull Ian over. The thought of causing somebody else’s death was too much for her. She sobbed. “I’m slipping!”
Her right knee slipped forward and dropped, tipping her sideways. But before the rest of her joined it, Mack was forcefully yanked backward, slamming into something—someone. An audible “oof” told her it was the latter. Laying on her back, she looked up and found Ian’s sweat-soaked face looking down at her. She had landed right in his lap. Trying to catch his breath, Ian’s head fell back against the outcrop of rock.
Mack sat up and turned seeing Babo holding her and Ian’s rope. He was the reason she’d been sent flying into Ian. Babo must’ve seen what had happened and rushed forward to help. Ian had successfully caught Mack but was having trouble reeling her in.
“Thank…you,” she said, breathing hard, looking back and forth between Ian and Babo. Ian waved her words away, and Babo gave her a single nod of his bald head. Nash appeared from behind the large man and looked confused.
“Wait a tick… Did I miss something?” He looked at Ian, who was still sitting against the rock w
all. “What the hell happened to you two?”
Mack rolled her eyes but quickly saw why Nash was confused. Babo’s girth was filling the tight footpath, making it difficult for Nash to see around him. At most, he would’ve heard a commotion, but not have been able to see it.
If he could hear anything at all, Mack thought, remembering the thunderous rumble of stone.
Mack stood and held out her hand, helping Ian up. When he was on his feet, she embraced him and thanked him again. Ian patted her on the back and pushed her away, turning to Babo.
“See if there’s a way down.”
Nodding, Babo unclipped from Nash and dropped his duffel. Skirting the other man, the local disappeared around the bend in search of their exit. Mack didn’t want to leave so soon, but she understood the urgency to get back down to ground level. The massif was highly unstable and coming apart around them.
“This isn’t right.”
Mack turned and fond Ian facing east, looking out over the land before them. The view was breathtaking. She would’ve been able to appreciate it even more if the ground beneath her feet didn’t just try to kill her.
She stepped up beside him. “You mean it isn’t normal for a rock formation to try and eat you?”
Ian didn’t respond.
Mack was going to apologize but decided that silence was better.
“I meant that it’s not right that it almost happened again.” He looked at her. “The last time I was up here is when Abigail died.” He looked out over eastern Madagascar again. “It feels like the island is trying to keep me from discovering the truth.”
She placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Ian. I—”
A pair of stomping feet interrupted Mack as Babo came back into view. His face said that, well, Mack didn’t know. He was harder to read than a book written in backward Sanskrit. His eyes met Ian’s, who reacted immediately.
“No way back the way we came.” Ian grabbed his duffel from the ground. “We’ll have to finish the climb and head down the western slope.” Standing tall he turned to Mack. “I’m sorry, but it isn’t safe.”
She nodded her head softly, looking to the horizon. She wanted the same thing that Ian did, answers. She needed to find out if her father’s last case was for real or not. She wanted to do this for Ian and Abigail too. They all deserved to know.
But she agreed with Ian’s assessment of the situation. They might be able to fight off an undiscovered pack of evolved predators but defending themselves against a mountain…that was something entirely different.
“Okay, Ian,” Mack said, “lead the way.”
10
Mack was relieved when they reached the summit just above the eastern cliff face. From there, they moved west, navigating around newly-made fissures and other breaks in the surface. While some looked like nothing other than shallow alcoves, others seemed to dive straight down into the rock.
“Where’s your tunnel?” Mack asked, following closely behind Ian.
“It’s just up here a couple miles, if it’s still open.” Mack understood what he meant. There was no guarantee the entrance was still passable after the most recent quake.
She sped up and fell in line with him, walking side by side. “Don’t you think we should have a look since we’re here?”
He stopped and faced her. “Absolutely not.”
“Shouldn’t we all get a say in this?” Nash asked, sounding frustrated. “I want the rest of my damn money.”
Ian turned to him. “The contract is what it is. We just decided that we can't finish the job, which means we don’t get the rest of the payment.”
“Fuck you, Ghost!” He went for his gun. “I want my money!”
In the blink of an eye, Ian drew his pistol and aimed it at Nash’s head. “You pointed a gun at me earlier without cause to do so. You’ve given me a reason to do so now.” He gritted his teeth. “Now, give me a reason to pull the fucking trigger.”
Nash stayed quiet and stepped away from Ian. Before holstering his gun, Ian gave Babo a hard stare. Like so many times before, the big guy answered with a simple nod.
“We’ll get as far as we can and camp for the night,” Ian said. “There’s no way to know how many new cave-ins we have to deal with now. It’s not safe to traverse this place at night.”
Mack agreed. Ian knew better than anyone how true that was. It’s exactly what happened to him and Abigail seven years ago.
Shit, Mack thought. Is this really happening again?
She half-expected to see a trio of Rahonavis appear out of nowhere and pounce. Thankfully, nothing happened as they continued west. Pic Boby, the massif’s highest point, was directly in front of them. Mack knew they’d have to circle around it to find a passable western trail. From there, she had no idea how they were going to get back to Ian’s truck. Mack seriously doubted she could call an Uber in Madagascar.
A stiff breeze kicked up around them, and as if he was kicked in the back of the head, Ian stumbled but caught himself. He didn’t stop, though. He didn’t even look back to see if anyone noticed what happened.
He’s terrified.
Ian must’ve seen her looking at him quizzically.
“It’s the same,” he said. Mack wasn’t sure what he meant.
“What?” she asked, catching up to him again.
“We…we got attacked after the wind kicked up.”
Mack’s eyes widened. She understood now. It also confirmed what she had already guessed. Ian was scared. She knew it wasn’t the mountain itself attacking them. It was just some really bad luck and it was affecting Ian on a personal level. Instead of trying to talk him down from the proverbial ledge, Mack left him alone with his thoughts with the hopes that the quiet calm of the massif would ease his discomfort.
After a half an hour of silence, Mack broke it. She needed to do her job and start video recording their expedition into the heart of the dark island of Madagascar.
As they walked, Mack dug into her pack and procured her overpriced digital camera. Powering it on, she flipped the same screen around and faced it toward her. While typically one to write her stories, Mack also enjoyed filming them for the Nat Geo website. Plus, if she forgot anything, she could just go back and watch the videos, using them as a kind of diary.
Ian stayed close to her and watched. Nash interestingly moved from Babo’s right to his left, staying out of her direct line of sight. It seemed that he didn’t want to be filmed.
I’m going to have to bring that up later…
“Hello from Andringitra National Park in Madagascar,” she started. “Mack Moore here—on location where we’re in search of a long-thought-extinct predator. What it is exactly, we don’t know…yet.” She flashed her winning smile. “But that’s why we’re here, right? Here’s what we do know…”
She took the next ten minutes to go over some of the facts of the case, leaving out anything that had to do with Ian’s past and reason for being here. She introduced him as “Madagascan predator expert, Mr. Hunt,” getting an off-camera snicker out of Babo. Then, she ended the video entry with, “What will we find once we enter the mouth of the beast?” She smiled again. “Stay tuned to find out!”
Ian stopped again and faced her. “Why are you doing that if we aren’t following through with the plan?”
She closed the screen and shrugged. “I don’t know, you never know. Maybe I’ll come back another time and finish what we started.” She thumbed over to Babo. “He can be my guide.”
Babo laughed hard, grinning ear-to-ear. He bowed slightly. “It be my pleasure, Ms. Moore.”
Ian wheeled on his friend. “After all we’ve been through—after everything that just happened—you’re taking her side?”
Babo shrugged. “Why? I no scared.”
“If you’ve seen what I have,” Ian said, putting his hand on his holstered pistol, “then you might be.”
He looked down at his hand and was shocked to see that he’d even gone for the weapon. He l
ifted it away and looked west, toward the setting sun.
“Either way, we need to keep moving and set up camp for the night. We only have another twenty minutes of daylight left, and it gets dark in a hurry up here.” He looked at Mack. “Believe me.”
No one argued. Everyone fell in line behind Ian and continued forward. Once the sun was deep enough on the horizon, they stopped and unpacked what they needed. Sleeping bags were laid out and weapons were removed from their duffels. The guys weren’t taking any chances while being out in the open at night.
The immediate area was surprisingly flat except for a few jagged looking towers of rock. Mack wasn’t sure it was a good or bad idea to be so exposed. Finding a nice nook to crawl into would’ve felt safer, but how would they run if they were attacked? The open terrain began to make more sense. She didn’t want to get trapped by an advancing predator.
Seeing their much bigger guns, Mack’s Sig Sauer felt wholly inadequate as she unconsciously fingered its handgrip. She had spoken to some soldiers over the years and knew the only reason they even carried a pistol was as a backup plan or as a last resort. The sidearms were never meant to be used during an operation.
The snapping of glow sticks startled her, and she nearly jumped to her feet and drew her weapon because of it. Mack gave Ian a venomous glare. It took him a second to understand that he’d done something wrong. He looked down at his hands and then back to her, as it finally dawned on him.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, tossing the pair of fluorescent orange lights to the ground in front of him. They all sat together, like the hands of a compass rose. Babo sat to Mack’s left and Ian to her right. Nash, thankfully, was the furthest away, sitting directly across from her.
“Grab some grub before you go down for the night,” Ian said, doing the same.