‘But it was to protect yourself.’ Alex exclaimed.
‘I know, that is how I explain it to myself as well. But sometimes it is not just self-preservation. With one of the attacks I went much too far to keep it under the semblance of self-defence.’
Reliving the attack was an effort.
‘There were six of them: five men and a woman. I think the leader was the General’s brother or something like that. The resemblance was striking, and he was of about the same age, maybe two or three years younger. It was the first time that they really wounded me badly. I was shot four times. One bullet pierced my left lung. I managed to crawl into the jungle to heal but it took a long time, more than twenty-four hours. The damage was considerable, but I healed. And while I was recuperating I became more and more angry. They continued to hunt me in the jungle but couldn’t find me. I turned the tables on them. The hunter became the hunted. I picked them off one by one. Making sure that they saw what had happened to their comrades and that it was frightening, unbelievably vicious. The last two to go were the General’s brother and another man. I cornered them in a valley that ran into a dead end, a high cliff. There was no way that they could escape. The General’s brother I wounded so he was incapacitated, then I played with his friend, like a cat plays with a mouse. Finally, when he died hours later, I turned my attention to the last one alive. What he had seen, and the fear he was under drove him insane. He was foaming at the mouth and screaming. I killed him, feeling cheated because his insanity had robbed me of my pleasure.’
She looked Alex in the eye.
‘I enjoyed the killing. It is not a feeling I get when I hunt animals, only when I hunt humans. This scares me Alex. I don’t know what you want me to do to help you but know what you ask. Please keep in mind the risks, and what may happen.’
‘You shouldn’t keep battering yourself like this. Like my father and Marianna, I have faith in you and that you are able to distinguish between friend and foe. What you did with the people that attacked you was necessary. You had to kill them to be able to stay alive.’
‘Yes Alex, I had to kill them. But I didn’t have to enjoy it.’
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I found it stressful the first few days in the compound. I wasn’t used to having all these people around me: the noise, the smells, the nearness and lack of privacy.
At first, they tried to include me in the conversations. But it was forced and didn’t feel right. After a few days most of the revolutionaries just left me alone. I was somewhat of an anomaly. The hermit who had lived in the jungle for so long. But who miraculously looked no older than thirty-five.
How was that possible?
Superstition was rife in the Latin countries and the revolutionaries were no exception. This strange woman who walked barefoot through the compound and had the ear of the council—of Jesus—was frightening for most of them. They had heard the rumours. That I somehow had something to do with the long white scars on Alex’s arms.
That I was a killer.
I kept myself to myself. Only occasionally speaking to others than Alex, Jesus and Dulce.
Having to be careful was so foreign to me that it cost all my concentration. My senses were much more astute than those of the revolutionaries, that meant that I could hear visitors coming before the sentries alerted the compound. Instead of alerting them to the coming visitors, I decided to ignore the signs and keep myself as low key as possible. Blending in was not really an option, so I just tried to attract as little attention as possible. But it was hard. Things that came naturally to me were totally scary for others.
I was so much stronger than even the largest man in the compound. Helping them with anything meant that I had to keep myself in check all the time and constantly pretend not to be any stronger or more sensitive than any of the others.
Because I was so used to being alone, it took a lot of energy.
More than I wanted.
I yearned for the peace of the jungle.
But I had committed to this—at least to see what I could do.
So, I persevered. But it cost me.
I wasn’t used to having to take others in to account. Living in such close quarters meant that everything was shared. There was no privacy. I suppose that was what irritated me most. That, and the fact that I couldn’t change when I wanted to. After the breach of security when I strode into the compound, the guards were adamant that I would not leave their sight. There was always at least one of them shadowing me. I commented this to Alex, who laughed and pointed out that I only had myself to thank for that. I suppose he was right.
Alex stayed as close to me as humanly possible.
It was twenty-three years ago—all over again. His crush had survived the test of time.
At first, I had been surprised that he was still single. A man like that should have been snatched up by someone years ago. He must be the most eligible bachelor in the compound. When I asked him about it, he laughed and said that he was just too busy, hadn’t gotten around to a regular life yet.
But in his eyes, I saw more than that.
He had been waiting, waiting for the impossible.
Waiting for me.
It was cute really, flattering. But it was a complication, one I didn’t need. I would have to do something about that sooner or later. Set the boundaries. Make it clear.
On the other hand, I enjoyed his company.
He was always smiling, laughed a lot and was genuinely interested in me. He asked questions all the time about how I had lived, what I was thinking, what my plans were. He was also very open about his life, his goals. He wanted to help the people. Make sure that everyone had at least a good chance at survival and a reasonable life. Alex was an idealist, but not naïve. He wanted to save the world but realised he would have to start small. His enthusiasm was contagious and soon enough I found myself caught up in his ideals and his plans.
Ever present was the memory of Julio.
‘We never managed to get his killer.’ Alex remarked one day when we were sitting with our backs to a rock in a small clearing, enjoying the warm rays of the autumn sun. ‘We have a good idea who it was, or anyway which group of mercenaries. But they are hard to get near to. At least if you want to get back again’ he laughed half-heartedly.
‘So, who was it?’
‘We think the mercenaries that are in Ortiz’s employ.’ He continued. ‘They lured part of our advance group into an ambush, killing most of the party, fatally wounding my father.’
I stayed silent.
‘Thankfully it was quick. He was hit by a bullet near to his heart. We dragged him out of the battle, but he died soon after. Two of the others were less lucky. We heard their screams for more than twenty-four hours.’ His head lowered in shame. ‘There was nothing we could do about it to help them. We were so outnumbered and outgunned.’
I reached out and took his hand, he squeezed mine gratefully.
‘It would have been suicide.’ Sighing, he continued. ‘We returned back to the site late the next day, after the mercenaries had left. They had crucified our comrades and skinned the two wounded alive.’ I felt the tremors that racked his body as he relived that day. ‘There was one woman among the dead. I can’t tell you what they did to her. It still haunts me. I’m just so glad that she was dead first.’ I could see the tears collecting in the corner of his eye.
His other hand moved over mine and he held on tightly, he was probably not aware of the way he stroked the top of my fingers. Turning his head, he looked me in the eye. Freeing one hand he reached up and cupped my chin.
‘It’s so good to see you again Tonal. I have missed you so much. Somehow I knew I would see you again.’ His fingers traced the side of my face up to the outer edge of my eyes. ‘Your beautiful eyes have been in my dreams for so long.’
We were silent.
What was there to say?
For a minute there I thought he was going to kiss me.
I don’t really know
what I would have done if he had. I was getting carried away by the emotions of Julio’s death and the moment.
I probably wouldn’t have stopped him.
But instead he put his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close, turning back to the sun.
‘I’m so glad you’re here, I just wish it were for different reasons.’ I rested my head on his shoulder. It felt good. We sat there like that for a while. His presence and close company were comforting. And so natural. Somehow, he made me feel good. I knew that my feelings for him did not measure up with how he felt about me. But it felt good and I was reluctant to let the moment pass. He seemed to know too. Content with the closeness and physical contact.
Soon we would have to talk about this—our relationship.
What it was and where it was going. I couldn’t string him on like this, had to bring it out in to the open, call it what it was.
But not now, not today.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The first two attacks went off without a single problem. The resistance devastated a bridge vital to the supply lines. It was wrecked beyond repair, the pieces falling into the wild river it had spanned. Building a new bridge would be a great challenge for the military, but they would have to, the fast-moving water prevented the use of floating bridges. It would prove to be a major setback for the enemy. The second target had been a heavily used runway, the main artery for the transportation of cocaine out of the jungle. No planes would land there in the near future.
The attacks were part of the main offensive of the combined revolutionary groups and had the desired effect. By attacking multiple targets at the same time, they managed to keep the military racing around totally unstructured. Inevitably, retaliation by the government was centred on the civilians that supported the revolutionaries. Villages were targeted by the mercenaries employed by most of the big landowners and the government. Justly fearing for their lives, people fled into the jungle, where most of them joined the revolutionaries struggle. The density of the jungle protected them, at least for now.
After the initial assaults, the military stepped up its security on the main supply lines. It became almost impossible to launch an attack from close quarters and the revolutionaries lacked long distance weapons. They focused their attention on the first three human targets: Flores, his daughter and son in law.
Synchronising the assassinations was essential to their success.
Flores was less protected than the Reyes family, so the strongest team was sent to the husband and wife targets. Dulce was sent with one small group to bomb the Flores mansion now that his wife was out of the country. The second group, including Alex and Tonal focused on Domminga and Rolando Reyes. The assassinations were set for the middle of the night at around two a.m. The terminations had to be finished before the morning, preferably earlier.
Stopping at the edge of the Reyes’ lands, Alex and Tonal finalised the details. She would change and enter the grounds as the cat. It was her task to take care of the couple as they slept. The cat would be able to gain access where people couldn’t.
Tonal jumped over the electrified fence and entered the grounds. Barking heralded the presence of dogs—quite big ones judging by the pitch of the bark. She moved stealthily through the scrub and trees and saw the house.
The large two-story building was very attractive. The Adobe style combined easily with the space that the two floors created. Hanging baskets on the balconies added to the friendly image, their smell quite heady in the midnight air.
The guards patrolled the outskirts of the mansion in a sequence of rounds. They passed her line of sight every ten minutes. They looked uninterested, talking to each other as they walked and not taking notice of their surroundings or the dogs. Reyes would not be amused if he knew about this lack of dedication, mind you, after tonight—if all went well—he wouldn’t care.
A car pulled up to the front of the house which caused the guards to stand to attention. An obviously drunk Domminga was supported by her husband as she staggered into the house. A few minutes later a light went on in one of the upstairs windows. It was consistent with the information that Joaquin had amassed. This was their bedroom. It was also where Tonal was headed. After a frenzied lovemaking, the couple turned off the lights and went to sleep.
The night was quiet while Tonal waited. She could hear the soft sounds of nocturnal animals far away. Even the dogs had decided to sleep. Sure enough, the guards kept up their rounds, though they took slightly longer and were quieter—probably afraid that Reyes might hear them. The air was nice and cool, welcome to her fur after the heat of the day. Humidity was reasonable, so the wait was pleasant. Soft snoring came from the open balcony doors of the couple’s room.
Cautiously she made her way to the house, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. One great leap placed her on the balcony. The soft thud of her landing however had been heard.
Rolando listened attentively. He had been sleeping, but something had woken him. It wasn’t really a conscious sound that he could recognise, but all the same it was enough to put him on edge. Throwing back the duvet, he placed his feet on the thick carpet. His left hand searched for the pistol that he kept next to his pillow. Assassination attempts were frequent. Totally sure of his own prowess, he declined to wake his wife or call for the bodyguards. It was probably nothing and he didn’t want to look stupid. Machismo was everything to him. He was the king of this domain—the most vicious one. He would take care of it, if there was anything there. Standing up, he moved his impressive bulk towards the open balcony doors. Flexing his muscles as he went.
There were no more sounds, but still he wanted to be sure.
Tonal crouched in the deep shadows to the left of the balcony doors. The foot falls on the carpet were loud for her sensitive ears. She waited for Rolando to come to her. The soft snoring of Domminga in the background was a signal that she was still sleeping off her drunken stupor.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Cautiously Rolando made his way out on to the balcony, his eyes mainly on the area between the trees and the house. His arrogance prevented him from contemplating the idea that someone may already be closer. She waited until he was standing close to the balcony wall and then silently rose from her hiding place. His instinct must have hit in—he turned and raised the gun. Shock registered in his face, his eyes bulging and his mouth opening to call out. No sound came, so big was his surprise and fear. He had expected a man, not an enormous feline. Without hesitation she launched herself at him, closing her jaws on his throat and guaranteeing his silence. He fell backwards dropping the gun, his feeble attempts to dislodge her from his neck and chest failed miserably. She held on, biting down, breaking the vertebra. His eyes turned in their sockets and he was still.
Tonal slowly left her kill and listened intently for sounds that anyone had heard the struggle. Nothing stirred. She missed something. Turning around to enter the bedroom she realised what. The snoring was absent. As soon as she set foot in the room Domminga attacked her. Brandishing a large machete-like knife, the woman screamed defiance and lunged at the cat opening a large gash on its side. With renewed energy she pulled her arm back to lunge at the intruder again. Tonal saw her chance and swiped her outstretched claws over the woman’s exposed throat, ripping it out. Domminga dropped the knife and grabbed helplessly at her neck, the fountain of blood spattered everything bright red.
It was over almost before it started, but the damage had been done. Guards were congregating at the bedroom in reaction to their mistresses’ cries. The door flew open and two guards rushed in to the room. They stopped in mid-stride when they viewed the unbelievable scene in front of them. There was blood everywhere: on the bed, the curtains, the walls. A daemon lion bigger than anything they had seen in their worst nightmares, stood over the blood drenched body of Domminga. A glance to the balcony confirmed their fears. Reyes body lay unmoving in its own steadily expanding pool of blood. One of the guards raised his gun, the monster roared, and
any remnant of courage deserted them. They turned as one and ran out of the room screaming.
Tonal chose the balcony for her escape. There were guards outside—she could hear them—but it was the quickest and surest way out of the building.
Counting on surprise she bounded out of the room and on to the balcony. Roaring she launched herself off the balcony into the surprised group below. Panic and terror were visible on their faces, they crawled and stumbled to get away from the monster that had exited the room.
Taking advantage of the chaos, she ran into the jungle and escaped almost without injury. One of the guards fired his machine gun wildly and a bullet had ricochet off a metal flower pole. It grazed her back leg—an irritation—but not enough to slow her down. She cleared the high fence and made her way to where she had left the revolutionaries.
The sight of the bloodied cat was more than the revolutionaries could take and the guns were levied on her. The colour in their faces vanished when she strode into the small clearing. Obviously, she had killed something, she was covered in blood. They had seen her change before the assassination, but nothing could prepare them for this nightmare vision. Her muzzle and paws were bright red, there were two cuts down her side, both of them already closing. Her intense gaze and Alex’s somewhat tentative ‘It’s ok’ barely convinced them to lower their weapons, slowly—just in case.
She changed back into human form and wiped the blood from her mouth with her right arm. Grabbing one of the bottles of water she washed the grime off her face and hands, then gurgled the rest of the water to get rid of the coppery taste of Rolando’s blood. She would never get used to that. The sickly sweet and metallic substance still assailed her senses.
Turning to the revolutionaries she saw the shock and disbelief still residing in their faces. It was one thing to talk about the assassination. It was totally something else to see the result so dramatically. She remained silent as she dressed in the clothes Alex held out for her.
Primal Nature Page 15
