Shark watched as guards approached the cages and led animals toward the topside elevators. Shark noticed how the animals moved slowly and methodically as if they were savoring the last moments of existence. He listened to their small whimpers and cries as they walked the darkened hallways to their deaths.
Stripes continued to run, his little heart beating fast. He looked around at the carnage surrounding him as the lionesses feasted on slower, weaker, and unluckier members of his herd. “Just run, Stripes, just run and keep running. Don’t let them catch you,” he kept picturing Shark saying. The words of advice from his friend propelled his little legs forward, igniting an extra burst of energy as his attackers closed in.
Just then, a large cat brought down the zebra in front of him. Stripes looked forward, alarmed to learn that the stampede was well out in front of him. He knew he was now dangerously exposed. Then it happened—two lionesses appeared in between him and the protection of the masses. Stripes could do nothing but stop. He looked at the lionesses as they approached. Two! he thought. One he might be able to reason with but two would be almost impossible to convince that he was not a tasty meal.
“Hello, ladies,” Stripes said as the predators approached.
The lions roared. Stripes could see the ribs sticking out of their sides, which was not such a good sign. “It’s very nice to make your acquaintance,” Stripes said, hoping a more civilized appeal might thwart the danger.
The lions growled as their dark, steely eyes locked onto his.
Stripes looked to his left, then to his right, then behind, searching for an escape route out of the danger zone, but he could not find one. He went back to making a direct appeal. “Anyone tell you ladies how lovely you look tonight? Love the shine of your tan fur.”
He could sense that they were annoyed by his comments as they again roared and slowly circled him.
Oh boy! Stripes thought. His bravery started to diminish as the reality of the situation sank in. He felt his small little legs begin to wobble. “This could be it,” he whispered to himself as he closed his eyes. “I just hope it’s quick.”
Stripes felt a heavy rumble. He opened his eyes and watched as a massive bull elephant emerged from the tree line and impaled the first lioness on his mighty tusks, tossing her limp body to the dirt. As the second lioness made an attack, the big bull gored her and also tossed her broken body to the ground. Stripes could hear the crowd cheer; they must have watched the attack unfold.
Stripes looked down at the two dead cats, then looked up into the elephant’s massive black eyes.
“Thanks,” Stripes said. “Thank you very much.”
The elephant paid no attention to him and stormed off with a loud trumpeting roar. Stripes stood for a second, looking around, thinking about his next move. Like a flash of brilliance, it came to him: his best bet would be to stay close to the big bull. “Hey, wait up!” he yelled to the elephant as his wobbly little legs began to run. “I’m following you.”
How much mutilation and death will it take? Shark thought, as he watched red liquid drip from cracks in the room’s ceiling. For blood to seep through the thin artificial layer of earth and down through the small cracks in the concrete floor, it would take the death of hundreds if not thousands of animals. He looked out into the hallway and noticed that blood was also there; blood was everywhere. The news reporter was right, he thought, as he remembered the reporter’s summary: “One thing is certain, whether you believe the show is right, believe it is wrong or even if you are indifferent, the drains below the Serengeti Casino will flow with rivers of blood this Friday night.” Shark felt disgust as he watched the blood drip. He just hoped that none of it belonged to his small buddy Stripes.
The killing and feeding frenzy above had gone on for a full two hours. Shark sensed that as soon the bellies of the initial wave of predators became full, others would be set free to torment the never-ending supply of prey brought up from the catacombs of the Serengeti.
Shark also sensed, from the eerie quietness of the crowd, that most of the mass killing was now over. The bloodthirsty crowd’s initial appetite for mutilation and death had been fed, and now he and Old Jack would be brought in to provide their dessert.
He looked down the hallway as two guards approached. Shark knew his time for battle had come. The guards escorted him down the slippery, blood-drenched hallway toward a waiting elevator. He stepped inside and watched as one of the guards pressed a button. He heard a small motor buzz as the elevator started its ascent.
Shaw watched as the lights of the amphitheater went dim and listened as the sound of loud African drums echoed through the theater. The darkness lingered for a brief second as he brought his infrared binocular headset into focus. His eyes were suddenly drawn to the center of the floor, to a hill just west of a group of tress and just north of the prey’s encampment. Shaw smiled. He listened to the low rumble of the capacity crowd of a half million spectators as they watched the earth part and the top of a metal cage appear. Rising slowly, as if coming straight out of the ground, was the unmistakable outline of a great white shark. The crowd went wild, stamping the floors with such force, it felt like an earthquake had hit the building.
The drums continued, their beat quickening, as the spectators all tensed in anticipation of the battle they knew was about to unfold. This was the main event, Shaw thought; every audience member must feel just as electrified and excited as he was. The drums grew louder, Bang, ba-bang-bang-bang, bang, ba-bang-bang-bang, bang, ba-bang-bang-bang.
As the lights dimmed, Shaw watched the infrared outline of Shark as he moved from the hill and made his way through a grove of trees. He crossed a small stream and headed toward the center of the arena floor, toward the killing zone. Shaw was amazed by his new technology; the scene was unfolding more than a mile and a half away but with the binocular headset in front of his eyes, it felt as if they were moving step in step with the rapidly moving great white shark.
Shark moved briskly through the trees and across the small river. He looked up and could see what appeared to be a perfect African late afternoon sky. He looked back at the darkness that surrounded the rest of the amphitheater, and although he could not see them, he could certainly hear the roar of the half million spectators that he knew were there. He wanted to get this done quickly. He was tired of being on display as if he was some sort of freak. Shark ran at full speed, propelled by anger, hatred, and the desire to finally have his day with the hyena known as Old Jack.
Shaw moved his attention from Shark to a small bluff just east of the center of the arena floor. They were there, eight of them, their small, beady red eyes glowing in the darkness of his arena, one of them wearing a fedora hat and fancy suit.
Shaw knew hyenas were powerful nocturnal hunters. Their eyes were designed by nature to see through the darkness. Their eyes now focused on Shark as he moved rapidly in their direction. One by one, the hyenas slowly left the bluff and headed toward the battlefield. Hyenas were pack hunters and Shark was now their group’s prey.
Old Jack sat behind the brush with his seven deadly relatives and watched as Shark entered the large circular patch of dirt known as the killing zone. Shark stopped his run, caught his breath, and searched the darkness. Old Jack knew that Shark was looking for him, and from the screams of the spectators Shark would know he was not far away.
Old Jack brought the pack in a circular formation as Shark struggled to see in the dimming light. Old Jack knew Shark’s night vision was poor; without a little light, he would literally be fighting blind.
“This one is going to be easy,” one of the hyenas whispered.
“I’m not a big fan of fish, but this one looks kind of tasty,” another one responded.
A third chirped in, “I’ll bring him down by his legs, the rest of you go for the neck. Just be careful of those jaws.”
Old Jack listened as the sound of the jungle drums suddenly stopped. The entire amphitheater fell silent. An eerie sensation filled the
room of over a half-million spectators. Then, as he expected, the drums started again. It was his signal. He yelled, “Attack!”
His relatives went at Shark from all directions with exposed fangs and nasty growls. Old Jack sat back in the brush and listened as the crowd cheered wildly at the scene. The first hyena landed on Shark’s left leg and was quickly lifted into the air by Shark’s huge arms and dismembered with one bite from his massive jaws. Ouch, Old Jack thought.
The second hyena landed on Shark’s back, digging its sharp claws into his grey flesh. Shark winced at the pain and reached around and grabbed the hyena by its hind legs, tossing the flailing animal hard to the ground. Old Jack listened as the hyena squealed at the shooting pain of the impact. “Not as easy as you boys thought,” Old Jack whispered.
The crowd was going wild as the hyenas backed off and circled Shark, analyzing the situation, trying to coordinate a new plan of attack, waiting for a moment of weakness when they could pounce. Then it came, complete darkness.
Wolf was sitting in the first row of seats on the far side of the theater. He was shocked as the lights in the amphitheater went completely dark. Shark will literally be fighting blind, he thought. He watched as the infrared sensors on the binocular headsets kicked in, giving him a full view of the action.
The hyenas wasted no time and charged. Without an ability to see, Shark’s jaws were chomping at air. The hyenas dug their claws and fangs into his body at will. In another instant they had Shark on the ground, and it looked like he was injured. His arms flailed and his jaw opened and closed but did not strike any targets.
Wolf watched as one after another the hyenas pounced on Shark. He knew he had to act before they weakened him to the point where they could kill him. There was a top of a tree about ten feet from Wolf’s seat, and he knew he would need a running start to reach it. He backed up five feet into the open aisle and then moved his body quickly forward. Wolf jumped off the wall and felt his lean, muscular body fly through the air. He grabbed hold of his target branch and quickly made his way down to the arena floor. He ripped off the headset, ready to rely on his own spectacular night vision.
He could tell from the abrupt wild screams of the audience that they must have noticed him and were probably watching him run.
Wolf moved quickly through the darkness, knowing that every second counted in his effort to save Shark’s life. He reached the battlefield and found Shark on the ground. The pack of six remaining hyenas was on top of him, all taking quick bites out of his wounded body.
The hyenas turned with their bloody yellow fangs and looked at Wolf. He knew he would appear as a menacing figure as he stood just above them on a small hill, his own sharp fangs exposed, and his long, knife-like claws extended.
As Wolf approached, all the hyenas backed away from his injured friend. The hyenas scattered and then regrouped, slowly circling Wolf as he approached Shark.
Wolf knew the hyenas would make another attack, but this time, they would have to go through him if they wanted to get to his friend.
The hyenas attacked as a coordinated group. Wolf felt one on his back and another biting the thick muscle of his leg. Wolf slashed with his claws, slicing open the throats of at least two of the pack as the others pounced. He sank his fangs deep into fur and putrid flesh, the nasty taste making him spit and gag. He raised his claws and in an instant slit open the belly of a hyena as it lunged through the air toward his head. Wolf looked down and noticed another hyena attacking Shark. He kicked him in the gut, then listened as the hyena squealed. He could hear the crowd going wild.
The hyenas backed away after their initial assault, and Wolf counted them. There were now only three left. They growled and stared at Wolf and at the wounded Shark on the ground. Wolf could sense that they were intent on finishing the job they had started.
Two hyenas again charged and in an instant had Wolf down on his knees. He looked up just as the third hyena crashed into his head, causing it to bounce off the hard floor. He felt dizzy, then there was darkness.
Shaw watched from the comfort of his Sky Suite 480 feet above the show floor as Wolf was knocked unconscious, the hyenas’ quick moves and sheer numbers proving to be superior against Shark or Wolf as long as the darkness he had ordered persisted.
All at once, the attack stopped and the remnants of the hyena pack dispersed into the outlying tall grass. A familiar shadow appeared from the darkness with the outline of a fedora hat. It was Old Jack, and he had come to claim his prize. Shaw could see that he was holding the long, beautiful, golden saber in his hand. “Not so fast there, Old Jack,” Shaw whispered. “I still have one more trick left for you.”
Shaw picked up his phone and made a call. “Release the bug,” he said in a demanding tone.
Shaw focused on a cage on the far corner wall that held a giant Fijian long-horned beetle. Shaw had heard that Old Jack and his crew killed the bug’s father right before its eyes. Let’s see if the bug wants a little payback, Shaw thought. Shaw watched the cage door spring open, and the bug moved quickly across the high grass toward the center of the large arena. Shaw knew the bug’s sense of smell would let it know that the creature responsible for the death of its father was near.
The crowd let out a loud roar as the giant bug approached the clearing.
Shark regained slight strength but still felt as if he could not move. He struggled to see in the darkness but could make out the image of Old Jack as he approached. He noticed the golden saber in his hand. “I see you still have my treasure there, Old Jack,” he managed to whisper.
“Of course I do,” Old Jack quipped back.
“How much is it worth?” Shark asked.
“It’s been appraised at over two million dollars. But after I use it to kill you, I’m sure it will double in value.”
Shark listened as the crowd suddenly erupted. Old Jack stopped his slow, methodical approach and looked around in the darkness. Shark could tell by the look on his bony face that he did not see what the crowd was reacting to. Shark watched as Old Jack turned toward the brush, a look of pure shock on his face as the immense shadow appeared; it was the outline of a giant beetle, its large horn heading straight for Old Jack’s chest. It’s Woodsy, Shark thought.
Old Jack moved quickly to the left but he was not quick enough, and the large horn impaled him just below the shoulder blade. Woodsy lifted him in the air and held him there, suspended in the darkness. Old Jack held onto the horn as the beetle’s mouth opened, revealing row upon row of razor-sharp teeth.
“You killed my papa!” Woodsy yelled as he tried to shake Old Jack loose from his horn. He turned his head sharply, making Old Jack fly through the air and land next to Shark.
Shark listened as Old Jack squealed in pain. He heard him whistle, summoning the members of his pack. The three remaining hyenas quickly surrounded Woodsy. They attacked his fragile legs and brought him to the ground, with one giving a quick death blow to the unprotected soft skin of his massive neck. Shark watched as Woodsy’s eyes slowly closed.
Shark looked at Old Jack as he rolled over and again focused his attention on Shark. He waved off the hyena pack that was standing by, ready to pounce and finish the job.
Shark knew that Old Jack would want to be the one to take him down. He watched as Old Jack hovered over him, the golden saber in his hand. “Who’s the main predator now, fishy?”
Shark had lost a lot of blood but found the energy to look Old Jack in the eyes. He thought of Vixen and Dog Z Boy and knew he had to find one last burst of energy to finish off Old Jack. He closed his eyes slightly and pretended to pass out.
Old Jack stood directly over Shark. He raised his right hand into the air and listened as the crowd went into a chanting roar. He stood there, feeling like a superstar. He struggled with his shoulder wound but was able to raise the heavy saber with both hands, aligning its tip with the center of Shark’s chest. I’m now the top predator in the world, he thought, as he brought the saber down hard toward its target
.
Just then, the lights of the amphitheater came to full, and Shark opened his eyes. Old Jack watched as Shark reached up; he felt Shark’s strong hand slam into and grip his elbow, stopping the advance of the sharp blade only an inch from his chest.
Old Jack watched in disbelief as Shark looked him in the eyes. “Do you want to beg me to kill you quickly?” Shark asked with an angry grin.
Old Jack struggled to free himself from Shark’s powerful grip, but realizing he was outmatched in strength he gave up the struggle. He smiled and laughed. “Beg you, like your friend Dog Z Boy begged me? I don’t think so, fishy.”
A look of pure anger came across Shark’s face. “It doesn’t matter, Old Jack. Just knowing the last thing you experience in your worthless life will be my teeth biting through your neck is good enough for me.”
An expression of sheer terror came over Old Jack’s face as he watched Shark’s eyes roll back into his head and his massive jaws open wide. He could see the rows of sharp, triangular, serrated teeth. The jaws extended forward and a moment later, his head, including his fedora hat, were in total darkness. The last sound he heard was the split-second crack of his neck bones shattering.
Shark removed Old Jack’s head from his long, wiry body. He rose to his feet and spit out the disgusting head followed by the fedora hat. He listened as the crowd went totally insane.
He turned and watched as the last three members of the hyena pack backed away in fear but then regrouped, organizing themselves to make another run at him and Wolf.
Shark & The Wolf: Predators and Prey Page 21
