Dracula of the Apes 2

by G. Wells Taylor

  However, Omag could be such a repulsive character that even his loyal blackbacks resisted the notion of starting a separate tribe with him, and many believed his disease would kill him before that could happen.

  Luckily, their loyalty had yet to be tested, because Omag always returned to Goro’s tribe.

  When Gazda wasn’t testing his muscles against the other young males, he was prowling about the jungle hunting animals, ever in search of a greater prize. He was a powerful fighter and enjoyed stalking the black panthers and spotted leopards, and as a result, he had begun keeping trophies at the tree-nest: skulls, and skins from which he cut replacements for his loincloths and capes as those he wore decayed.

  In later years after he’d taken to using the mud-skin, he mainly used the capes under a full moon because carrying the garment between uses was cumbersome, and so he began hiding replacements high in the trees along the common ape trails.

  Gazda had developed an appetite for the succulent bushpigs that charged along the game trails winding through the jungle, and he usually satisfied that craving on his own to avoid the mad rush that accompanied the larger cooperative ape hunts. Those affairs often degenerated into violent exchanges when the kill was made, blood spilled and the tribe tried to dine en masse while observing primitive rules of hierarchy.

  Going solo meant the night ape could enjoy the hunt and drink his fill of blood without the drama, and yet he still participated with the others because like all apes he valued his membership in the tribe—and it was during those competitions for food that each member’s place within it was diminished, reinforced or advanced.

  If Gazda’s hunt and kill produced a very large bushpig, he would shoulder its corpse and bring it back through the trees to the tribe. The other apes would scream in anticipation for this fleshy windfall, but could only feed after Goro and his lieutenants had stuffed their guts.

  In those cases, Gazda tore off hunks of meat before the rest, and made his way through the riot of struggling anthropoids to find a quiet place where he could dine in his own fashion.

  Just as the younger apes had hounded him for chewed mouthfuls of berries, nuts and maggots, one of his friends had remembered this peculiarity and capitalized upon it by snatching up and devouring the hunks of meat that he spat out.

  Being a female of small stature, Ooso was often muscled out of the feast that followed tribal hunts, so in times past would wait while Gazda forced his way through the feeding apes to come away with meat.

  It was Ooso’s good fortune that her friend enjoyed sharing his prize. Now that she had an infant on the way, the rich food was of great importance. She still had not chosen a mate for herself, or identified the baby’s father from among her suitors.

  “Ooso is greedy,” Gazda teased. “Wants many mates.”

  “Gazda is foolish,” Ooso said, dining on a chunk of pre-chewed pig he’d thrown away. “Wants to be small as Ooso without any meat!”

  Gazda hunted every night to feed his thirst, while the tribe only staged their hunting rituals during the fertile season when there was plenty of fruit, nuts and grasses available to fuel their bodies for the exhausting work involved in catching monkeys and other small game. In the dry season when their usual foods were not in abundance, they could not afford the energetic chase.

  But Gazda hunted for blood whenever he required it.

  His skills improved at every outing, and his vigorous nocturnal activities left him growing in strength and speed, if it did leave him exhausted during the day.

  While traveling with the tribe Gazda knew his naps still drew disdain, and now that he had so many personal scores to settle among the blackbacks; he was concerned with what would happen should they search him out while he slept alone and exposed, or on the rare occasion with only his mother in place for protection.

  With those thoughts in mind, he began to search for more remote places to sleep, where neither the blackbacks nor his mother might ferret him out.

  So after returning from a night’s hunt with the jungle growing light around him, he would slip away to dig a hole under twisted tree roots while the tribe still slept, or find a high hole in a tree or a dark crevice in the rocks where he could wedge himself.

  His mother was not so easy to trick, however, so the night ape was often pleasantly bemused to climb out of his hiding place and find her chewing nuts or lazing near, a curious mix of love and reprimand upon her heavy features.

  CHAPTER 20 – Magnuh

  With each kill Gazda’s taste for blood grew in concert with his pride. His continued successes with panther, pig and python caused him to hunt the large antelopes that sometimes followed Magnuh’s kind into the jungle where groups of them foraged along the elephant trails.

  He risked impalement from their lethal horns, but those daylight victories only encouraged him. When gangs of cunning baboons entered the forest for figs, Gazda tracked and killed many despite their monstrous fangs.

  The night ape usually hunted such prey from above, sliding and slinking from shade to shadow from trunk to branch, his strong finger and toenails driving into the tree bark like claws, and then with a powerful hissing roar he would leap upon some hapless creature and kill it.

  Often he would use his long knife, but not always, preferring as he did the feel of frightened flesh beneath his fingers, sometimes forgetting the weapon’s role in his growing courage.

  He enjoyed these challenges, relishing his power over the defeated prey, drinking their fear before sinking his teeth into their flesh. Then a potent resonance would surge through his muscles, as their living strength spurted into him—as his heartbeat raced and theirs diminished.

  At other times, he would master his prey to study, gripping the hapless creatures in his powerful arms, forcing them to struggle for their lives as he held them still—before slowly leaning in to bite.

  In time, the night ape grew careless.

  One afternoon, Eeda became worried about Gazda. She had had only fleeting contact with him for days beyond her counting, and she was suddenly gripped by a mother’s anxiety.

  This worry had come upon her as the tribe retreated to the trees after detecting some subtle alteration in the animal calls and birdsong that usually dominated the day—there had been a minor change in the pitch or rhythm as happened before storms, or when a predator was near.

  The she-ape did not know where her son was, but suspected he would be deep in his daytime sleep and vulnerable, so she ignored the warnings of the other apes, and began a frantic search of the forest floor for places he might have retired.

  She whimpered as she went, stooping beneath a silent sense of doom. As always she feared that he would not be hidden well enough from the predators that stalked the jungle paths, or that a direct assault upon his safety had caused the fear that suddenly colored the day.

  Unfortunately for Eeda there were other beasts than animals in the jungle.

  Hunters from the curious Bakwaniri tribe had entered Goro’s lands from the east. These men lived on the far side of the river that bordered the silverback’s range. The jungle thinned past their village as the land swept up to the grassy plateau that led on into the mountains.

  These men hid their faces behind hardwood masks carved into the shape of human skulls. Symbols of death were prevalent in everything about them: skeleton warriors were tattooed on their muscular shoulders and chests; skulls and bones were impressed upon their hand-woven and leather apparel; while naked skulls grinned at intervals upon the carven shields they carried, and marked the arrows, bows and spears they used to kill their prey.

  The three hunters had set out days before, emboldened when a spell cast by the village sir-jon, a wizard, affirmed their new leader’s order to explore the forbidden lands west of the river for sign of the monster that had haunted its banks.

  The sir-jon said they would succeed, and so encouraged these frightened hunters who had grown up in the shadow of the beast. Few had seen it and lived, but all knew the story
of a hairy giant that devoured Bakwaniri women.

  These men had been sent out with other small groups of hunters to track the beast and kill it or bring news of its lair and kind. Then would the Bakwaniri leader send an army to destroy all trace of it and end the reign of River Demon.

  Nearby, as Eeda sought out Gazda’s sleeping place; she sprinted from shadow to shallow through the thick undergrowth and finally burst onto the game trail where the three Bakwaniri hunters were inspecting strange tracks in the dirt.

  All of these men knew of gorillas and chimpanzees and enjoyed their flesh, and to them Eeda looked a delicious prize. The hunters were startled by her sudden appearance, but not so much that three arrows could not be fired, and one strike the she-ape in the arm.

  Eeda cried out in pain when she felt the missile hit, and a moment passed before she turned to see the bone-faced apes upon the path.

  She screamed again.

  As the startled warriors struggled with shaking hands to set arrow to bow, the she-ape bared her fangs and charged as their second volley flew wide. Eeda snapped her teeth like she was about to attack, but veered suddenly to the side and clambered up a tree trunk to where the lowest branches hung.

  Gazda had just come awake, disoriented, with his mother’s scream in his mind. He had killed a large antelope at midday and gorged on its blood—and while replaying the struggle in his mind, he had found a quiet place and slept...

  ...until he heard his mother’s cry—and then she cried again!

  He leapt out of his shadowy resting place and turned in the direction of her call.

  The night ape threw his head back, and beat upon his savage breast until from him came the powerful challenging cry of the bull ape, a call he voiced to strike fear into the heart of any creature that dared threaten the mighty Gazda’s mother.

  The night ape had made his lair some distance to the west of the tribe, so he flung himself into the trees and raced toward his mother’s pain, dodging branch and leaf, flitting past twig and vine, casting about for the true location of her call, and with his powers yet diminished by the sun, Gazda missed what lurked in the dappled shadows of the overgrown trees just ahead.

  Magnuh had followed the herd along the jungle trail with mating in mind, when a collection of tasty trees distracted him from the beautiful females. The trees bore fruit that appealed to the jungle giant for they hung from low branches in a dense collection of broad-leafed trees where he could enjoy the cool air while he feasted.

  Then had come a familiar cry, and his nemesis was suddenly swinging toward him overhead.

  With his full attention focused in the distance, Gazda leapt over the looming shadows with a single thought blazing in his mind: Who dares to harm my mother...

  The bull elephant’s serpentine trunk reached up and deftly plucked the night ape from his vine before it lashed like a whip, dashing the night ape against the earth with all the strength in Magnuh’s gargantuan frame.

  Gazda’s wits exploded in pain and shock, and he had barely turned over before one of the elephant’s massive feet stamped upon his chest.

  Eeda clambered higher into the branches panting with fear and pain as the bone-faces lifted their bows and scanned the leafy heights for her. With the immediate terror passing, the she-ape felt the throbbing in her left arm and shoulder, so whimpering softly; she found a guarded spot near the trunk where she squatted on a branch and licked the bloody flesh where the arrow had pierced her arm.

  Below her, the jungle shook as a silverback roared his challenge. The bone-faces turned and sprinted north along the trail away from the sound.

  Seconds later, Goro charged out of the trees in answer to Eeda’s call where he tore around the jungle floor ripping up the crowded saplings and throwing their pieces skyward. Again and again he stamped around a wooden bone-face and shield that had been dropped or lost by a frightened hunter.

  The Bakwaniri men had had only minutes to escape and were even now sprinting swiftly over the uneven ground seeking out an eastern turn in the path that might eventually take them home. Each of them was hoping to survive, for surely, they could bring news of the River Demon!

  With a final bloodcurdling bellow, Goro ceased his display and stood across the trail. The great slabs of muscle on his shoulders and chest heaved as he searched the high branches and hooted his concern for Eeda.

  Her resolve now hardened by the king’s presence, the she-ape gritted her teeth and pulled the arrow from her arm without a whimper. She flung the bloody missile aside and licked the wound.

  Goro snorted approval as Baho and four blackbacks roared out of the quivering foliage. Their silverback turned with them and ran along the path in pursuit of the bone-faces...

  ...as Eeda remembered Gazda’s challenging cry and she wondered why he had not yet arrived—but it was then that she heard a monstrous crashing in the trees. The ground trembled and her perch shook as some forest giant trumpeted its victory.

  It was Magnuh—was the jungle titan fighting another bull elephant?

  An urgency gripped Eeda’s mind and with it, a feeling and thought—perhaps a voice whispering: Mother!

  And a horrible realization filled her.

  Gazda was in pain, and he was calling out.

  Her little son was dying.

  Eeda raced through the forest toward the shattering conflict, and almost fell from the branches as trees in her path snapped in half when a great gray body spun and tore through the thick jungle confines. Climbing higher, she screamed angrily at the elephant as it lifted something bloody and limp in its trunk and flung it against exposed rocks.

  Bellowing, the beast charged with his bull head down and the gargantuan tusks nailed the fleshy lump against the ground, drove remnants of it deep into the earth.

  Then the elephant twisted and ground the points of his tusks, raking a pair of jagged grooves into the hard soil as he scraped the dead thing against the rocks and dirt.

  The dead thing that was...

  The panicked she-ape swung branch to branch, leaping ever closer, until she hung directly over the bull elephant’s head where she hurled insults down at the giant until his eyes blazed up at her.

  Eeda’s heart shuddered for...impossibly, draped across the bloody tusks—was the limp and mangled body of...

  “Gazda!” Eeda screamed, and overcome by a fierce maternal instinct she dropped onto the elephant’s tusks and savaged his trunk with her fangs, as the startled beast roared at her impudence and swung his mighty head.

  But Eeda’s strong hands snatched up Gazda’s gory remains from the twisted ivory, before sliding along the tusks as the force of the elephant’s spin sent her tumbling.

  Magnuh growled and then trumpeted his wrath, but Eeda was up and bolting toward the trees with Gazda’s tattered corpse slung over her shoulder.

  The great bull elephant trumpeted his frustration as he lunged, and his powerful trunk lashed out!

  Eeda felt its terrible two-fingered tip slide across her back, and catch a tuft of fur that it painfully ripped away as she heaved herself into the lowest branches of the thickest tree.

  The elephant roared, and the she-ape scrambled up through a shower of splintered bark and shivered wood as Magnuh rammed the trunk below her.

  Eeda whimpered, knowing that Gazda was dead, his crushed bones and pulverized flesh were plain to her as were the holes that gaped in his tattered skin; so she was startled when a sudden crackling noise came from the red ruin, and some strange movement quivered beneath her leathery fingers.

  Her son gasped through mangled lips and broken jaw.

  The tree rattled again as Magnuh vented his anger a final time before turning to snuffle at the broad smears of blood that marked his enemy’s demise.

  Above him, Eeda knew that Gazda was too badly injured to travel far, and she could see that he would die soon, so she carried him higher, swinging toward older trees where higher still she found a hollowed-out trunk into which she clambered—dragging her dying s
on after.

  There in the darkness she licked his many lethal wounds and kept him warm as his body quivered and grew colder by the second.

  The night ape drifted in and out of consciousness, drawing comfort from his mother’s scent and warmth from her flesh so near to him, but he was slipping...

  Time traveled quickly in the dark, and Eeda knew her son needed sustenance, but with him so close to death she could not leave him alone while she gathered food.

  She could not leave him to die that way.

  When he called out her name, tears burst from the she-ape’s eyes, and she did the only thing a mother could. She offered him a breast, though her milk had dried up long ago and he was many years too old.

  But Eeda had nothing left to give, so cradling her son; she brushed his torn lips with her breast, and was cheered to feel him latch upon it. Not to suckle, but to calm him then, for the end that was to come.

  And she felt a peaceful tremor go through him before a similar tingling rose up her own neck to ease her mind.

  Her night ape son lay upon her suckling, and Eeda felt great warmth and love passing out of her and into her strange offspring.

  So strong was he. So proud was she.

  CHAPTER 21 – The Bakwaniri

  While hearing of Omag’s depredations could elicit sympathy for those Bakwaniri women with whom he fed his perverse appetites, it would not be fair to paint those victims and their families as innocents in the jungle vastness.

  The Bakwaniri lived behind a rustic palisade of poles built on the far side of the river that ran just past the eastern border of Goro’s land. There the green jungle cleared as the geography rose to embrace a vast grassy plateau that led under blue skies into the distant purple mountains.