by Paul Mason
Back at their campsite, Zaf and April told the others about everything that they’d seen downriver. The encounter with Hussein had left them feeling shaky – not that they were going to give up.
Ian and Tara were trying to piece everything together. Ian paced up and down the dining tent. ‘So, this Hussein heads a tiger-poaching outfit. A real nasty piece of work. A few days before we turn up, he brings his gang to the park and begins operations.’
‘Amir and Rajiv track him down,’ Tara continued, ‘only they get caught. Hussein threatens all the others and gets them to clear out, or else.’
‘And who can blame them. If I was a poor villager worried for my family, I wouldn’t want to cross him either,’ Zaf sighed.
‘Remember, I overheard Hussein tell his men they’re going to bait their tiger pit again tonight. There’s going to be another dead tiger. And that’s not the only thing.’ April swallowed. ‘I think he has the same plan for Amir and Rajiv.’
‘Not if Factor Four have anything to say about it, he doesn’t,’ Ian snapped.
Zaf nodded. ‘Too right.’
‘We go back. And we send Hussein packing,’ April agreed. ‘But we’d better act quickly. You two had better get changed,’ she said to Ian and Tara.
Trying their best to think about what Mr Arturi would do in this situation, the four friends tried to think up a plan. One that rescued Amir and Rajiv, saved the tiger, and put Hussein and his crew behind bars. Secretly each of them wished their science teacher was with them now. But that wasn’t going to happen.
They decided Zephyr and Aqua would get back to Hussein’s camp through the air and downstream the same way they’d done before.
‘And look what I found,’ said Ian, pushing a motorbike, ‘hiding in one of the sheds. Tara, we can use this.’
The motorbike looked old and dusty. Tara kicked the wheels. They were still hard. ‘Do you even know how to ride this thing?’ she asked.
‘Er, no,’ Ian admitted.
‘Then it looks like I’ll be doing the driving. My cousin showed me how on her farm.’ Tara swung her leg over the saddle and turned the ignition key. Then she jammed down on the starter pedal. The motorbike spluttered and died. Tara lifted herself off the seat and jumped down on the kick starter again. With a cloud of smoke, the bike rattled into life.
‘OK,’ said Zaf. ‘Good luck – and keep yourself safe. Don’t want any of you falling out of trees,’ he added with a grin.
Chapter Ten
Tiger Pit
The tiger pit was deep, with sides that rose up sharply. It had taken Hussein’s men the best part of a day to dig it. But it had been worth it.
In the old days, the bottom of the tiger pit would have been lined with sharp stakes. But stakes ruined a good tiger skin, and Hussein didn’t want that. Instead, once the tiger fell in to this pit and couldn’t get out, they would shoot it with a dart. Put it to sleep, forever.
In the last of the daylight, Hussein’s men finished covering the mouth of the pit with branches and leaves. Then they swept the ground to cover up any tracks. Even if you looked really closely, you would have no idea of the danger that lay below.
Finally, the men hung a slab of meat on a rope suspended just above the pit. The tiger would follow its nose down the track, smell the blood, and move in for an easy meal. You didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to work out the rest. The pit would be a tiger grave.
‘Good,’ Hussein growled as he watched his men finish. ‘Now, we wait.’
Hussein ordered his crew to pull way back, well out of range. They didn’t want their scent to scare the big cat away.
Hussein tested his night-vision goggles. ‘Hold your positions,’ he muttered into his radio. ‘And make sure those prisoners are secure.’
‘Yes, boss,’ came the reply from the man standing guard at Hussein’s camp. Dutifully, he went over to Amir and Rajiv and checked on the ropes. There was no way those two were going anywhere.
The man felt sorry for them. But they should have tucked their tails between their legs and ran when they’d had the chance. Hussein didn’t ask twice.
‘Water,’ Rajiv gasped. ‘Please.’
The man thought for a moment. Hussein’s orders were ‘no water’. But what harm could one cup do? It would probably be the last thing to pass their lips.
‘OK,’ the man muttered, grabbing his water can and heading for the river. ‘Just wait.’
The man laid down his rifle on the river bank, and knelt down with his water can, dropping it into the river by its straps. In the gloom, it looked like the river was running like normal – no more freak waves.
The man stood up to go, but the straps on his bottle went tight. The bottle must have caught on something. He tugged at it again. Definitely stuck. He bent over and gave it a hard yank with both hands.
Suddenly it was as if the river had come alive. A shape burst from the water like a ghost, standing tall. It grasped at him. The man could feel hands tightening around his forearms, but there were no hands, just river water.
The man screamed in terror as, without warning, he was dragged forward and thrown into the raging water of the river.
He clawed his arms at the surface as he was swept downstream and away from the camp. He shouted out into the dark as he rushed along.
Aqua clambered from the water. ‘All clear, the guard’s gone for a swim.’
‘Roger that,’ replied Zephyr. He swooped out of the darkness like a hawk, and hit the ground running.
Amir and Rajiv raised their heads at the sound. Were they delirious or was some blue figure now standing in front of them, with a mask over his face? They felt their ropes being loosened, and then a surge of pain, as blood rushed back into their limbs.
‘Are you both OK?’ Zephyr asked.
‘Water, please,’ gasped Amir.
A second masked figure came towards them in the gloom. ‘Here you go.’ A girl’s voice. The figure knelt down and handed them a water bottle. The two men drank greedily.
‘Who are you?’ Amir found his voice.
‘There’s no time,’ said Zephyr. ‘You need to get into your jeep and reach the authorities. Are you strong enough to drive?’
Amir nodded. ‘But what about Hussein and the others?’
‘Don’t you worry about that,’ Zephyr spat. ‘We’ll take care of them.’
Chapter Eleven
Ambush
Hussein switched on his night vision goggles and scoured the forest. In the shadows of green and black he could see his men dotted around the trees, their eyes glowing. But no tiger, just the buzz of insects.
The big cat would come, he was sure of it. Then they would have three pelts for sale. More money than villagers in these parts would see in half a lifetime.
Hussein had heard that further up the poaching chain, the big businessmen at the top were stockpiling tiger skins and bones. Waiting for the animals to go extinct, when the price would skyrocket. Hussein thought he was ruthless, but that was colder than cold.
Then, over the sound of the forest Hussein thought he could hear something else coming from the direction of the road - the sound of a jeep leaving the camp. What was that foolish guard doing? He’d scare any tigers away.
Hussein hissed into the radio. There was no response. He tried again. ‘Go back to the camp and find out what’s going on,’ he grumbled to the man crouched next to him. ‘Radio as soon as you get there.’ The man nodded and crept off into the darkness.
Hussein waited for the man to get back to the camp. Waited for word to come. Again, there was just the noise of the jungle. He tried to reach his man by radio, but there was no answer.
First the spy that afternoon, and now this. Something was wrong. What if that foolish game warden and his assistant had somehow got loose?
Hussein ordered his men to stand by with their rifles drawn. ‘Stay alert. Keep your eyes on the pit.’
He pulled out his revolver and released the safety catch. Keeping low,
he crept through the trees, back towards the camp.
He hadn’t got far when the ground below his feet began to shake. At first Hussein thought he’d stepped on something – an animal. A snake? With horror he moved quickly, back the way he came. But it wasn’t an animal. The trees around him were shaking too.
It was an earthquake.
The ground rumbled and rolled. It juddered from side to side. Hussein grabbed hold of a tree for support. In the darkness, his men called out to each other. Through his night vision, Hussein could see the terrified looks on their faces as they tried to cling onto something that wasn’t moving.
Birds squawked in the branches above, and took to the sky. A small herd of deer burst through the bushes and vanished.
Then it stopped. For a moment the jungle was quiet, except for the frightened jabbering of Hussein’s men. They were spooked.
‘Back to your places!’ Hussein ordered.
‘First the river goes angry, and now the ground,’ one of them muttered. ‘I don’t like this.’
‘You’ll like it less with my boot on your backside!’ Hussein growled. ‘It was only a small earthquake, you fool! Go and check on the bait, then see what’s happening back at camp.’
The man shook his head, but did as he was told. He edged his way towards the pit, as close as he dared. With the branches covering the pit, it was hard to see where the opening was.
The man could see the hunk of meat swinging gently from its rope. It was still in place.
‘All OK, boss,’ the man called back.
Then it hit. Another sudden jolt from the ground, forcing the man back on his heels. A hard jerk. Again, he was pushed backwards. ‘Boss!’ he cried out. The ground rumbled as if someone had taken hold of it and was shaking it like a rug. The man stumbled – one step too many. There was a crack of branches, a snapping of twigs, then a terrified scream as the man plunged into the pit.
The earthquake stopped.
‘Get that idiot out,’ Hussein screamed at his men. ‘Quickly!’ What chance was there of catching a tiger now?
Chapter Twelve
Trapped
From her position near the clearing, Terra waited until all of Hussein’s men were gathered around the edge of the pit, reaching down to rescue the man inside. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, and felt the power of the earth flow into her body. She lifted her arms above her head, and brought them down.
The ground buckled under her command. Terra swept her arms to the side, making the earth roll.
The men stood no chance. Their legs crumpled beneath them. They collapsed into the pit, arms flailing, and were gone.
From the bottom of the pit came groans.
‘Now I guess you know what it feels like,’ Terra whispered.
While his men were trapped, Hussein ran through the trees, away from the pit. Something very bad was happening in this place. He needed to get out. Hussein pushed branches aside, clawing at the green, using his night vision to find a path through the undergrowth. He’d get to the camp, grab the two pelts that were drying and all the equipment he could, and beat a retreat to the city. The others would have to fend for themselves.
A voice came out of the darkness. ‘Going somewhere?’
There in front of him was a figure. Unless the night vision was fooling him, the figure was wearing a mask. Like the spy they’d seen that afternoon. Hussein whipped out his gun, and there was a sudden flash. Flames burst over the figure, right in front of his eyes. Hussein was blinded. With his free hand, he pushed his goggles off his face, and fired where he’d seen the figure. But the masked man was gone. The flames had disappeared.
Hussein spun around, his eyes struggling to cope with the dark. He fired wildly again.
‘Naughty, naughty,’ Inferno laughed from his hiding place. ‘You want to stop doing that.’ He raised his arms and shot a jet of flame at Hussein’s hand – the one holding his gun. Hussein yelped and dropped the weapon to the ground.
‘Too hot to handle, eh?’ Inferno sneered. ‘How about this?’
A stream of flame blasted into the night, just above Hussein’s head. Then another that scorched his shoes. Hussein bolted through the jungle, back the way he’d come.
Back towards the pit.
Hussein ran blindly, his heart thrashing, his lungs struggling. A blast of flame scorched past his head, forcing him to change direction.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the figure of fire on the path behind him. He could hear the crackling of the flame. It must be a ghoul come to feast on his flesh. Punishment for all the tigers whose lives he’d taken. What else could it be?
Heat beat against his back, driving him on. Hussein’s legs screamed in pain as he stumbled through the bushes. Branches clawed at his face.
Hussein reached the clearing. From the terrified shouts of his men inside, he knew the pit was right there in front of him. He fell to the ground in a tumble to stop himself from dropping, and rolled, over and over, stopping at the mouth of the hole, fingers grabbing at the dirt.
Hussein pushed himself to his knees and spun around, searching the darkness. There was nothing.
‘Looking for me?’ Inferno hissed in the dark. He burst into flame at the edge of the clearing. Hussein could see him clearly now. Arms, legs, hands. It was as if they were all made of fire.
Hussein whimpered and dropped his head. There was no escape. ‘Who are you?’ he moaned.
‘A friend of tigers,’ Inferno spat. He raised his arm, and a blast of fire hit the ground in front of Hussein, sending him flying back, down into the pit, right on top of his men.
Inferno strolled up to the edge of the pit. He looked casual but he wasn’t taking any chances; one of the men might still be carrying a rifle. He walked round the pit, ignoring the groans of the men inside, blasting a trail of flame onto the ground around it as he circled.
With a click of his fingers, Inferno switched off his own flames, leaving the pit surrounded by fire. He checked the clearing, making sure the rest of the forest wasn’t going to catch alight.
Tara emerged from the dark, and gave him a hug. Her skin had transformed back from earth into flesh. ‘Not bad, Inferno,’ she smiled.
‘Not bad yourself,’ said Ian. In the distance they could hear the roar of engines, coming closer.
Chapter Thirteen
Tiger Hunt
Flying above the forest it was easy for Zephyr to spot the tiger pit. A circle of fire blazed in the clearing like a beacon. Zephyr could also see a procession of headlights coming down the jungle road – Uncle Amir and the police.
Zephyr dropped down and swooped into the clearing. ‘Hussein?’ he asked Ian and Tara.
‘In there with the others,’ Ian grinned. ‘They won’t be going anywhere in a hurry.’
‘Great stuff. Go to the top of the class,’ Zephyr laughed.
‘Well, it was mostly Terra – she had the gang right where she wanted them,’ Ian said.
‘And the men back at the camp?’ Tara asked.
‘One is probably still drifting downstream scared out of his wits, the other is tied to a tree where we left him,’ said Zephyr. ‘We’d better get going – my uncle will be here any minute. The police can take it from here.’
‘Any chance of me doing the driving?’ Ian asked as he and Tara ran for the motorbike they’d left hiding under a bush.
‘None whatsoever,’ Tara replied.
Back at the camp, the four friends quickly changed back into their normal clothes, and buried their suits at the bottom of their bags. The motorbike was returned to the shed, its engine still warm. Then, doing their best to fight down the adrenalin that rushed through their bodies, they sat around the dining table, all of them talking at once.
They had done it. They had rescued Amir and Rajiv, stopped a tiger from being poached, and faced up to serious danger. And most important of all, they had survived unhurt. They couldn’t wait to tell Mr Arturi everything. He’d probably have a heart attack.
***
The tiger crept through the long grass, dark stripes breaking up the lines of its body. It kept low to the ground, panting gently. Stealing up on its prey. There, across the grassland was a herd of deer grazing quietly, ears twitching.
From the safety of the hide, Amir and the others held their breath, binoculars peeled. They’d been fortunate enough to spot this tiger on the last day of their trip – but to see one on the hunt, now that was something else.
The night before, Amir had come straight back to the campsite once he’d led the police to Hussein. When he saw Zaf and the others were safe, he’d broken down into tears of relief.
Amir had done his best to tell the four friends and the police everything he knew, about the poaching gang, his kidnapping, and his rescuers. But Amir had no way of explaining just how the poaching gang ended up in their own pit, surrounded by a ring of fire. It was all just too strange.
Hussein and his men were in jail awaiting trial – including one very wet and sorry-looking gang member who’d been pulled from the river miles downstream.
Zaf and the others had listened, suitable expressions of shock glued to their faces. ‘Wow, Uncle,’ said Zaf, ‘it’s hard to imagine – while all that was going on, we were just sitting around at the camp.’
‘Wish we could have helped you in some way,’ added April.
‘I’m just so glad nothing happened to you,’ said Amir.
Now, in the hide, Amir held his finger to his lips. They mustn’t make a sound. Just watch.
The tiger inched forward, muscles rippling slowly under its proud coat. The deer lifted their heads suddenly, heads turning this way and that. They could sense something. They stopped chewing for a moment to listen. Then, satisfied that they were still alone on the plain, they went back to grazing.
