Journey from Darkness

by Gareth Crocker

  As Xavier prepared to fire at him again, determined to see him fall, the matriarch stepped in front of him. She made a low rumbling noise, her head craning towards them.

  Requin’s face pulled into a frown. ‘Can she see us?’

  ‘No. She can smell the rifles,’ Xavier whispered, and then smiled. ‘Clever girl.’

  The matriarch, locking onto their position, swayed backwards like an ocean swell gathering itself and then charged towards them.

  ‘Take her,’ Requin said, his voice suddenly urgent. ‘Now, Xavier! Now!’

  The matriarch’s mammoth limbs kicked up clouds of dust and her footfalls reverberated through the ground. Surprised by her speed, Xavier hurried off two rounds but couldn’t tell if he had hit her. He tried to let off a third, but the chamber was empty. There was no time to reload.

  Fifteen yards became ten.

  Then ten became nothing.

  The matriarch’s head smashed into the base of the tree, her tusks tearing through bark.

  Both men reached for the shuddering branches.

  ‘F–Finish her!’ Requin stammered. Although he did not have a permanent speech impediment, he always stuttered under duress.

  Xavier snatched the remaining bullets from his pocket and quickly fed them into his rifle. The elephant took a few paces back and charged again. This time the impact knocked Requin’s rifle clean off his shoulder and sent it tumbling to the ground.

  ‘What the h–hell!’ he stuttered again.

  Xavier slid the bolt into place and fired two quick rounds into the top of the matriarch’s head. But instead of bringing her down, the shots appeared only to incense her further. She stepped back, paused, and again charged at the tree. As she bore down on them, Xavier squeezed off his last three rounds. One punched into her leg and two more through her ears, but they were whispers to a storm.

  Requin felt hot tears scald his eyes. Gripped by fear, he was suddenly convinced that this final charge would tear the tree from the ground. But felling the tree, it turned out, was not the elephant’s intention. As she closed to within a few yards of them – slick with blood and fury – she rose up on her back legs. As if cast into the open mouth of a nightmare, Requin registered that her front legs were now within reach of them. It never occurred to him that an elephant was capable of this. If these animals are even elephants at all, he thought. The notion was followed by a strike of blinding pain as a snapping branch drove into his chest. He threw out his arms to stop himself from falling, but succeeded only in pulling Xavier down with him.

  Both men fell backwards, cartwheeling through the branches. Expecting to be crushed and gored by the giant tusker, they scrambled to their feet and launched into a run for their lives.

  But the matriarch did not pursue them. As Xavier stole a glance over his shoulder, he saw that she was slumped up against the tree, her head leaning against one of the branches. The remaining elephants were gathering around her, trumpeting up to the heavens.

  The youngster, standing small and vulnerable between them, was leaning against her dying mother, trying to push her to her feet.

  12

  A voice reached out through the darkness and wrapped its fingers around Derek’s mind. ‘Wake up … wake up.’

  His eyes stirred, opened. ‘Ed? What’s happening? Everything all right?’

  ‘We’ve found another elephant. A female.’

  Derek propped himself up onto his elbows, the cobwebs of his dream still draped over his thoughts. ‘Another elephant? Where?’

  ‘Maquaasi was out early and found her about five miles from camp. From the looks of it she’s already met up with some poachers. But she’s alive.’

  Derek reached for his boots. ‘How bad?’

  ‘It was dark and, well, Maquaasi didn’t want to risk going in too close, but he says it looks like she’s been shot in the top of her head and possibly her front leg as well,’ Edward explained, and then paused to lower his voice. ‘There’s something else.’

  ‘What?’

  A glint of excitement flickered in Edward’s eyes. ‘He says she’s enormous. By far the biggest he’s ever seen.’

  ‘Really? Where’s Maquaasi now?’

  ‘Outside. Waiting for us.’

  ‘Have you ever known him to exaggerate?’

  Edward shook his head. ‘Never. It’s just not in his nature.’

  Derek nodded, his mind beginning to race, and reached for his rifle. He hurried to his feet and together they pushed through the tent flap. The fresh morning air was cool and fragrant. An artist’s palette of pink and turquoise streaked across the navy sky.

  ‘Morning, Master Derek,’ Maquaasi said, standing sentry-like in front of them.

  ‘If you call me Master again, Maquaasi, I’m going to shoot you in the face,’ he replied, gesturing with his rifle.

  The Shangaan smiled broadly, his white teeth glowing in the early-morning gloom.

  Derek turned to his brother. ‘So any ideas on where our mystery elephant comes from? We’ve been working the area for weeks.’

  ‘Best guess is that she’s come over the border. It’s all I can think of.’

  Derek looked at Maquaasi and then tightened his belt. ‘And you, Master Maquaasi, what do you think?’

  ‘She not from here. Come over from far. She been walking … the old trails.’

  ‘What trails?’

  ‘Not ground that we see,’ he offered, and then pressed his fingers to his eyes. ‘Blind trails.’

  Derek thought of pursuing an explanation, but decided it could wait. Whatever Maquaasi was trying to tell him would no doubt be further lost in translation. ‘Where’s the good professor?’

  Edward waved a hand. ‘I haven’t woken him. He’s got an important meeting with the bush police later that I don’t want him to miss. I’ve left him a note. We can fill him in this afternoon.’

  Derek took a deep breath and, more out of habit than anything else, tried to pat down the creases in his shirt. ‘So … just how big is this elephant?’

  As usual, Maquaasi’s tracking skills were beyond reproach. He was so attuned to the task that he was able to interpret even the slightest murmurs in the bush as evidence of an animal’s passage. Fortunately, given its size and the general devastation it wreaked, an elephant was decidedly easier to track than most animals. But even so, there was still much a good tracker needed to know. A broken branch and an obvious impression in the sand could well indicate the presence of an elephant, but only an experienced eye could fathom in which direction it was travelling or how recently it had passed. And, in the absence of trees and soft ground, the task became even more arduous.

  After an hour Maquaasi stopped walking, closed his eyes, and seemed to be absorbing all the unseen signs the bush was sending him. He sank onto his haunches and pressed his hand into the warm earth at his feet. He then looked up and almost immediately pointed into the rising sun. ‘Over hill. Not far.’

  Together, they rushed up the burning slope. First to reach the top, Derek and Edward hastily scanned the valley ahead of them.

  ‘There!’ Maquaasi announced, throwing up an arm. ‘Alive still.’

  ‘Sweet Jesus,’ Derek said, as he caught sight of her.

  Edward stood wordlessly and stared.

  Ahead of them, less than half a mile away, stood the largest elephant either of them had ever seen. Some of the small trees that surrounded her barely reached up to her shoulders. Although her back was turned and they could see almost nothing of her head, it was clear she was something extraordinary.

  ‘Let’s … get closer,’ Edward heard himself say.

  As they quietly closed in on her, Maquaasi led the way to a cluster of large rocks less than two hundred yards from where she was now dismembering the limbs of a tall tree. Derek stepped carefully between the boulders and found a barrel-sized hole through which to study her. Now that they were level with her, she seemed even taller than before. Her tanned and deeply lined skin suggested she was fully
mature, although not an old animal. Her face was still turned away from them, but they were able to make out what looked like a large scab on the top of her head. Her leg was clearly bleeding, the blood glistening a vivid scarlet in the bright sun. Her wounds, like her dimensions, were just as Maquaasi had described. Not a word had been an exaggeration.

  Still struggling to come to terms with the sheer magnitude of her, they watched in silence as she slowly flapped her ears. A swarm of flies rose up briefly from the wound in her head, but quickly settled down again.

  And then, just as they had hoped, she turned towards them.

  Little could have prepared them for what they saw.

  Her blood-stained face revealed a pair of bone-white scimitar swords that curved up from the earth and pointed to the skies. Uncurled and laid flat, they would almost certainly run the length of her body. Undoubtedly, they were the reason she had come under attack. Once cut from her, they would command an enormous price. With so little ivory left to plunder, it was the stuff the black-blooded hunters dreamed of. But how, Derek wondered, had she survived her ordeal? Given the bounty on offer, the poachers would have fought tooth and nail to bring her down. They would not have been easily dissuaded.

  As he searched for an answer, other questions stung his mind.

  Where had she come from?

  Where was she headed?

  How dark was the storm she had just endured?

  But above all … why did she seem so familiar to him?

  13

  The elephant had drifted away from where she had been feeding and was now leaning against an old thorn tree, blood muddying the sand at her feet. Her body listed forward like a great ship going down at the bow.

  ‘If she collapses, we’ll lose her,’ Edward whispered, his words weighed down with concern. ‘She’ll never make it back up.’

  ‘Damn it … there must be something we can do.’

  Edward offered his brother a forlorn look and then peered down at his rifle. ‘Not something good, I’m afraid.’

  Shaking his head, refusing to allow the thought into his mind, Derek’s gaze locked on to her injuries. The wound in her head appeared serious; it had festered into a thick and raised scab. Her front leg was severely swollen and he noticed what seemed to be bullet holes in her ears – these, however, were of no real significance. Though the holes would remain, the torn flesh would heal in a matter of days. Provided, of course, that the rest of her survived that long.

  ‘Let’s give her the benefit of the doubt here,’ Derek said. ‘Even if it means she has to suffer for a while.’

  Edward nodded. ‘Agreed.’

  ‘I want to go in for a closer look.’

  ‘No, no. Not a good idea. Not after what she’s been through. You can’t risk exposing yourself. It’s too dangerous right now.’

  ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Based on what?’ Edward frowned, suddenly annoyed. ‘Your wealth of elephant knowledge? Your decades of experience in the bush? You have no idea how she’ll react.’

  Derek did not reply straight away. ‘I’m sorry, Ed. I need to do this.’

  ‘What are you talking about? Where’s this coming from?’

  Derek looked at his brother and shrugged. Without offering another word, he turned away and stepped out from behind the rocks.

  ‘Wait! Think! You don’t know what you’re doing!’

  But Derek had no intention of stopping. Just as he had done for most of his life, he was following his instincts, allowing his emotions to drive him.

  He managed only a few short steps before the giant elephant craned her head towards him. Suddenly, it felt to him as though God himself had turned to see who had wandered into his yard.

  Her ears immediately began to flap and she straightened up several inches, which in itself seemed almost impossible. Warily, her tail swishing between her legs, she tracked him as he slowly approached her.

  ‘I’m not here to hurt you,’ Derek called out, holding out his arms and lowering his head in what he hoped was a submissive pose.

  ‘You’re talking to the elephant … really?’ Edward murmered under his breath. ‘Why do you always have to do the first bloody thing that comes into your head?’

  The tusker kept her eyes locked on Derek, mindful of any sudden movement. She was clearly not pleased by his arrival, but neither did she appear sufficiently threatened to act against him. Or, more likely, she no longer possessed the strength.

  ‘I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through,’ he rambled. ‘My name is Derek.’

  Edward shook his head. ‘Stop … speaking … please.’

  As Derek got to within a hundred yards of her, he sat down on a large crescent-shaped rock. He carefully removed his shirt and placed it on the ground beside him. He wanted her to see that he was unarmed. He wanted her to understand that, like her, he was vulnerable. And that he was placing himself at her mercy.

  As he settled down, crossing his legs, he was unable to take his eyes off her. She was, by an unbridgeable margin, the most remarkable animal he had ever seen. Beyond enormous, her distended frame and exaggerated tusks appeared almost mystical, as if torn from the pages of a children’s fable. There was also something extraordinary, almost otherworldly, about her face; it bore a rawness of emotion that was immediately and obviously evident. Large and moist sickle-moon wrinkles underlined her brown eyes and made it appear as though she was crying. Perhaps she was, he suddenly thought.

  ‘If it’s all right with you, I’m just going to sit here for a while,’ he continued. ‘I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t trample me to death.’

  Edward, maddened by his brother’s inane comments, dropped his head into his hands. ‘Heaven above. What is he doing?’

  As Derek observed how the elephant was struggling to remain on her feet, his apprehension faded away and, in its place, bright ropes of pity and anger coiled and tightened around his chest. He wished there was something he could do to comfort her, at least to ease some of her pain, but knew that there wasn’t. All he could offer was himself and, in an absurd gesture, the apology he hoped his presence conveyed.

  As the rising sun pushed itself off the mountains, Derek sat perfectly still, transfixed.

  The Great Grey seemed impossible to him. A figure fashioned in a dream. And yet he felt inexplicably connected to her. As if he somehow knew her from somewhere. That, in some unfathomable way, they shared something. A bond even.

  But how?

  And what?

  After a while, Derek finally rose to his feet. He picked up his shirt and slowly returned to Edward and Maquaasi who were waiting patiently behind the rocks.

  ‘And what … the hell … was that?’ Edward asked, stabbing his hands skywards.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘You’re not sure! You just did something that could have cost you your life and you don’t even know why you did it?’

  Derek shrugged, offered no defence.

  ‘And why’d you take off your shirt?’

  ‘To show her that I wasn’t a threat.’

  ‘Of course! We all know how lethal a shirt can be.’

  ‘Take it easy, Ed. I just wanted her to see that I wasn’t carrying anything that could hurt her.’

  ‘You were bloody lucky, Derek. That could have ended very differently. You realise that I would’ve had to shoot her if she had charged you? I can’t believe that you would put that on me. Damn it!’

  Derek allowed a few moments for his brother’s anger to dissipate. It was rare for Edward to lose his temper. ‘We know her kind.’

  Edward cocked his head sidewards. ‘Her kind? What do you mean? We’ve never seen an elephant like this.’

  ‘That’s right,’ he agreed, his voice low, ‘but we’ve read about them for years.’

  Edward frowned but as he did something sparked in his eyes. ‘You’re talking about the diary? The Desert Elephants?’

  ‘You know I am.’

  ‘He was near death w
hen he wrote those entries. For all we know, it was all in his mind.’

  ‘I don’t believe that. And neither do you.’

  Edward looked up at the sky, the early-morning blue already incinerated by the sun. ‘He was very ill. The malaria would’ve distorted–’

  ‘She’s a Desert Elephant, Ed. Look how bloody tall she is! And those tusks? She’s exactly what our father described. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.’

  ‘Of course I haven’t.’

  ‘Then why are you resisting this?’

  ‘I’m not,’ he replied, taking a breath. ‘I’m just trying to think it through. Do you know that most people believe that Desert Elephants are a myth?’

  ‘This isn’t a fairytale, Ed. She’s not a damn unicorn. Just an elephant from an old bloodline,’ Derek said, slipping his shirt back on. His skin was already tight and hot with sunburn. He leaned over and stared through the gap in the rocks. The elephant god continued to lean precariously against the old tree. ‘There’s another way to look at it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, what’s the alternative? If she isn’t a Desert Elephant … then what the hell is she?’

  14

  Despite how likely it had seemed at the time, and much to their relief, the elephant did not succumb to her injuries that morning. For the next four days, Derek appointed himself her personal guardian and held an almost constant vigil over her. Although clearly wary of him at first, agitated even, she eventually seemed to resign herself to his continued presence in much the same way as she was forced to accept the flies that pollinated her wounds. Both were annoyances she could have done without, but neither seemed to pose a real threat to her. She even became somewhat accustomed to the intermittent presence of Edward and Andrew.

  Given the damage to her leg, she could initially only walk short distances, largely to drink from the nearby Shingwedzi and feed on the mopane bushes, always returning to the same thorn tree each night. But her movements were beginning to show signs of improvement. As Derek continued to shadow her, Edward arranged for a pair of volunteers to cover his duties. At nightfall, Derek would return to camp for a few hours rest, but would head out again early each morning well before sunrise. And every time he crested the now-familiar hill he would hold his breath, praying that she would still be standing there in the valley, resting under her tree.