The Jungle Warrior

by Andy Briggs

  The answer came in the very last clip. It looked like Robbie had wedged the camera behind the sun visor as they rode in the car and was asking Tarzan about D’Arnot and the Greystokes. Now Jane realized what Robbie was planning. She stormed from the vehicle just as the engine spluttered to life.

  Robbie looked delighted. “Hey, I got it! The fan belt had just splashed water on the leads.”

  Jane was too angry to care about the engine. She thrust the camcorder at him. “What’s this?”

  Robbie’s smile vanished. “Where’d you get that?”

  “You were videoing him to get proof he’s a Greystoke, weren’t you?”

  “Jane . . .”

  “You were going to use this to try and get a reward, right?”

  Robbie was immediately on the defensive. “You were going to do exactly the same thing so don’t try and take the moral high ground now!”

  “No, I wasn’t! I wanted him to decide for himself—and I certainly wasn’t doing it for money! Didn’t you ever wonder why they never believed D’Arnot? Why nobody ever came looking for the aircraft? Because Tarzan’s cousin, William Cecil Clayton, inherited the whole estate—everything! That’s why!”

  Robbie was confused. “So?”

  “So why would he want to give it all up to the rightful heir? Don’t you see? They tried to arrest D’Arnot, and put him under psychiatric assessment so it would look as if he was lying! They don’t want Tarzan back!”

  “But the reward . . . ?”

  “Maybe that makes it easier to find and get rid of him?”

  “You don’t know any of that for sure! This is just you being overprotective as usual!”

  “Buto!” Tarzan’s warning wasn’t heard over their argument.

  “I’m not being protective! I’m being sensible—“

  “BUTO!” yelled Tarzan as he sprinted toward them.

  Robbie and Jane suddenly looked around and saw what was making Tarzan run. A fully grown rhinoceros was charging straight at them.

  Robbie slammed down the engine hood and realized he wouldn’t make it safely inside the vehicle from where he was, so instead he slid across the hood.

  At the same time, Tarzan grabbed Jane and manhandled her though the passenger door. He didn’t have time to climb in so slammed it shut, just as Robbie made it over to Tarzan’s side.

  The jeep acted as a buffer between them and the angry rhino. Its curved horn punctured the mudguard—narrowly missing Jane as she scooted behind the steering wheel. She felt the rhino’s hot breath as it snorted and pushed the vehicle sideways through the mud.

  “Whoa!” She dodged the tough horn.

  Tarzan leaped on the car’s roof in a crouch to avoid being crushed.

  Robbie wasn’t so agile. The edge of the jeep clipped his leg and he slipped over in the mud. He screamed as the jeep slid toward him—then passed over his head! The clearance underneath was just enough to prevent him from being run over—but now it was a matter of seconds before he would be trampled to death by the beast.

  Instinctively he grabbed the chassis and clung on for his life as the rhino pushed the vehicle toward the river. The hot exhaust pipe burned his forearm, but he didn’t dare let go.

  Tarzan leaped from the roof onto the rhino’s neck. He gripped tightly with both hands, unable to reach his knife. He tried sinking his teeth into the beast’s leathery flesh, but that did nothing to stop its rampage.

  Suddenly, the rhino backed away. With the sound of grinding metal, it withdrew its horn and now spent its energy trying to buck Tarzan off its neck. With nothing to grip on to, he was hurled from the rhino. He rolled in the grass as the beast wheeled around and pawed the earth, ready to trample him.

  Inside the car, Jane tried to start the engine but it just wheezed and died. Tarzan might be Lord of the Jungle, but he wasn’t indestructible; he couldn’t defeat every animal opponent. He still hadn’t stood up and Jane doubted he would survive if the rhino charged him. Desperately she honked the jeep’s horn and yelled through the open window.

  “Hey! Over here! Come on!”

  The animal’s ears twitched and its head turned, nostrils flaring. It may have had poor eyesight but it had identified its noisy target. The rhino turned from Tarzan and galloped toward Jane.

  Realizing what she’d done, Jane scrambled for the ignition wires Robbie had twisted together to hotwire the car. They sparked, burning her fingers. Wincing, she had no choice but to reach for the seatbelt and hold on.

  Robbie was still underneath the jeep when he saw the animal charge.

  “Jane! Get out!”

  Too late. The rhino slammed into the side of the vehicle with such force it flipped it over. Robbie held tightly to the chassis as the jeep spun around a full 180 degrees—then his grip failed and he was flung clear. He sailed through the air to land with a splash in the muddy river.

  Inside, Jane had just enough time to click her seatbelt on as the car turned upside down. Then the rhino struck again and its horn smashed through the passenger door. The entire car spun around on its roof, the door ripping off its hinges as the rhino struggled to free itself.

  Jane sucked in a lungful of air ready to scream, but the breath was knocked from her as the rhino struck again. It rolled the jeep over completely, back on its wheels and into the river.

  The rhino stood on the bank and grunted victoriously. The passenger door was still impaled on its horn, but it didn’t seem to notice. It pawed the ground and snorted even louder. Tarzan slowly stood as the rhinoceros turned toward him and charged.

  Jane pressed the accelerator and tried the engine again. The jeep suddenly roared to life. Robbie splashed his way through the river toward her and clambered through the space where the passenger door had been.

  ‘Go!’ he yelled, waving his hand toward Tarzan.

  Water sprayed from all four tires as the vehicle skidded forward. They were in the shallower part of the river and Jane hoped that water wouldn’t stall the jeep again. Luck stayed with them as they accelerated onto the bank.

  Ahead, Tarzan was running for his life. Just as the rhino was about to catch him, he leaped to one side out of its way, nimbly rolled to his feet, and sprinted back toward the jeep. The rhino skidded to a halt, kicking up a cloud of dust as it changed direction.

  Jane hit the brakes and Tarzan leaped into the vehicle as the rhino lumbered straight toward them.

  “Buto angry!” he said.

  “Really?” Robbie’s tone dripped with sarcasm—something Tarzan didn’t understand. “Reverse!” he yelled at Jane.

  Jane mashed through the gears. As the rhino filled the windshield she felt the gears bite and hit the accelerator. The jeep lurched backward, picking up speed. Jane arched around so she could see behind, one hand looped around the passenger seat. There was no way she wanted to go back into that river.

  “Faster!” squealed Robbie.

  “I’ve only ever driven forward before!” she screamed.

  The rhino was gaining on them. With its head bowed, the broken door pierced on its horn resembled a battering ram.

  Jane pressed the pedal against the floor, and the engine screamed.

  “Hold on!” Robbie leaned over and yanked the wheel two-thirds of the way around, making the jeep suddenly spin in a wild U-turn. Stones and dust filled the air as it turned the other way.

  “First gear, now!” he yelled.

  Jane obeyed, her movements mechanical. She could see nothing out of the window and had to trust Robbie. She put the jeep into gear and they powered forward. Jane laughed triumphantly and glanced at the wing mirror . . . her smile faltering when she saw the persistent rhino racing out of the dust cloud. It quickly caught up with the jeep. Its mighty head butted the side of the car, denting the rear wheel arch and shattering the back window. The vehicle shuddered as it tipped onto two wheels. Jane twisted the steering wheel and they landed back on all four. She crunched her way into second gear and accelerated.

  The spurt of speed put d
istance between them and the rhino, which finally gave up its pursuit. Jane watched in the mirror as it pawed the ground and shook its head—the car door still firmly attached. Then it turned around and disappeared into a thicket of trees.

  Jane’s fingers hurt as she gripped the wheel. With a clang, the front bumper fell off and they bounced over it without stopping. Tarzan was grinning like a child as he glanced behind.

  “Buto!” he said jerking his thumb toward the beast.

  “Yeah, Buto,” said Robbie trying to wipe the dirt from his face. “I don’t know what you did to anger it back there, but please . . . don’t do it again.”

  Despite the extreme danger they had just escaped, Jane couldn’t help but laugh as the tension drained away. She also felt relieved that, in the heat of the attack, she had tossed Robbie’s camcorder through the door and into the river. That made her laugh even more.

  18

  A gunshot echoed across the savannah and the wail of an injured elephant carried with it. Rokoff chambered another round and ruthlessly finished the job. As the mighty bull fell dead, his men set on the ivory tusks with chainsaws.

  Paulvitch watched, instructing the men on how to cut the ivory. The fight with Tarzan on the boat had rendered his right hand useless and, even though he’d had it set in an improvised cast, without an X-ray he had no idea if the bone was set straight. He feared he would never have the full use of it again.

  Rokoff returned to the vehicles. He had hired three trucks and a safari Land Rover to complete his journey, and packed them with supplies, spare parts, and a hired a bodyguard team of ten local thugs—he was leaving nothing to chance. The gunshots and chainsaw noises upset the little ape and he could hear Karnath whimpering from behind the canvas of the rear truck. Rokoff had only stopped to kill the bull elephant as it strolled across their path because Paulvitch had insisted on seizing the opportunity. The ivory would make a welcome addition to their fee. Rokoff had killed the elephant almost on autopilot. There was no hunt, no moment of elation as he outwitted the animal. His mind was back in the jungle with Tarzan.

  The ape-man’s abilities were truly incredible. Rokoff had never seen a more perfect example of a human. Every muscle defined, the effortless agility to leap across large distances and the raw strength to take on the fierce boat crew Rokoff had hired—all combined into the perfect predator.

  At the best of times, Rokoff treated the people around him with contempt. He was convinced that anyone who wasn’t Russian was inferior and claimed that he could trace his own lineage back to the great tsars. He didn’t see Tarzan as a person, but as another wild beast, worthy of the hunt.

  He broke from of his daydream once the elephant tusks had been loaded. Already vultures were circling overhead and it wouldn’t be long before hungry hyenas and other scavengers fed on the carcass.

  As the three trucks grumbled to life, Rokoff climbed into the back of the one holding Karnath. The little ape had been making a din ever since they stopped and it was beginning to grate on his nerves.

  “Shut up!” Rokoff kicked the cage in fury, sending Karnath cowering into a corner, whimpering quietly. Satisfied, Rokoff jumped from the truck and took his seat behind the wheel of the Land Rover. The convoy headed across the Tanzanian savannah, toward the Ugandan border.

  •••

  Robbie was unsure which would give out first, the battered jeep or the fuel. The rhino had buckled the rear offside wheel and the entire vehicle shuddered as they bumped across the wide grassy plains. He was relieved not to be driving and was content to navigate Jane around any treacherous obstacles. Her driving had improved immeasurably from when he taught her in the middle of the jungle, especially with no trees around here to crash into.

  Suddenly there was an ear-splitting screech from the rear wheel and at the same time the engine spluttered, indicating they had run out of fuel. The car rolled to a halt just as the back tire bounced in a hole and snapped the axle. It was lucky they hadn’t been traveling at full speed.

  A quick check was all it took for Robbie to confirm the jeep was beyond repair. They would have to walk. They gathered their backpacks from the car and crammed in as many stolen provisions as they could. It was already mid-afternoon and the landscape was so ferociously hot that Robbie could feel his scalp burning. Tarzan bowed his head although the heat didn’t seem to bother him much.

  “Where are we?” said Jane, taking in the savannah and the vast columns of grazing wildebeest that stretched into the distance. The nearest animals were only a few feet away—she could hear their constant grunting and smell the overriding stench of cattle.

  Robbie studied the GPS and adjusted the scale, something he hadn’t done for a while. He was shocked to discover Rokoff’s tracer was very close. He moved the GPS around from east to west, settling on a straight northeastern route. From here he could see a small hill, beyond which vultures circled.

  “We’re close. Very close. Rokoff must have stopped for a while.”

  “Where is he?”

  “About two miles over that hill. From up there we could probably see him.”

  “Great! Just as we have to walk!”

  Tarzan peered at the hill. “Rokoff there?”

  Robbie nodded. “If we had the car we would have been on top of him within an hour. But he’s moving on again now.”

  “Car dead?” said Tarzan prodding the jeep with his bare foot.

  “Car dead,” Robbie confirmed, imitating Tarzan. He sighed and leaned on the vehicle. “And when we get anywhere near Rokoff he’ll see us coming.”

  Tarzan looked around, studying his surroundings, forming a plan. “No. Rokoff not see.”

  He cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed. It was a melodious yodeling cry that echoed across the plains. Jane had heard it once before and it filled her with hope.

  •••

  “Forty miles,” said Paulvitch as he studied the GPS. “Then I’m going to a damned hospital.”

  “You can wait until we reach Kampala,” said Rokoff quietly.

  “That’s another 150 miles on a boat!”

  Rokoff shrugged, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. This close to delivering the gorilla, he didn’t want to risk grounding the convoy in a ditch.

  “Then make your way to Mwanza. They have a good hospital there.”

  Paulvitch scowled. “And leave you to claim our paycheck without me? You must think I was born yesterday, my friend.”

  Rokoff smiled. Out in the wild they had no choice but to trust each other, but when it came to financial dealings, Paulvitch needed to touch the money himself before he accepted it was real.

  The sun was balanced just over the horizon, casting spectacular rays of light through the clouds. Herds of zebra and wildebeest lined the route ahead, many galloping away, nervous, as the convoy cut through their lines. The collective brays of the animals were louder than the vehicles’ engines.

  “We won’t make it before nightfall,” Rokoff commented.

  “I’d rather not camp out here another night, if it’s all the same,” said Paulvitch as he rubbed his broken hand. He expected a snide comment from Rokoff, but none was forthcoming. Instead Rokoff kept glancing in the wing mirrors, his brow furrowed.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Paulvitch.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Rokoff rolled to a stop and cut the engine. The vehicle’s sliding roof was already open to cool the Land Rover down. Rokoff stood on his seat and peered out. The three trucks behind had stopped too. Agitated animals were milling all around them. Behind the convoy, dark storm clouds blotted the horizon and silent sheet lightning pulsed between them. Without the sound of the engines, all Rokoff could hear was the constant murmuring of hundreds of animals running past him. He peered into the distance then fished a pair of binoculars from the back of his seat. He looked out across the herds, but could see nothing but a mass of bodies and dust. Something was not quite right.

  Paulvitch joined Rokoff standing in the open
sunroof. “Lions?” he asked. He had witnessed a hungry pride of lions scare a similar-sized herd before. But when big cats attacked, the animals usually only ran out of range before stopping and continuing to graze. These animals just kept running. Then something caught his eye. “What . . . ? What is that?”

  Something was moving within the herd. It was heading in their direction. Rokoff raised the binoculars again. His view was obscured by dust—then Tarzan’s face suddenly appeared. Rokoff gasped, dropping the binoculars in shock. Tarzan was only seven hundred feet away and powering toward them on the back of a zebra. Robbie and Jane followed, also on zebras, clinging to the animals’ manes.

  Nikolas Rokoff was struck dumb. He had never seen such a sight. The ranks of wildebeest thundered toward the convoy and, within seconds, hundreds of animals were rampaging between the vehicles as plumes of dry dust obscured everything.

  The Russians covered their faces with scarves so they could breathe freely. Rokoff finally found his voice. “Don’t let him near the ape!” He grabbed his rifle and jumped off the vehicle—straight into the path of a wildebeest. He was forced to flatten himself against the Land Rover to avoid being trampled.

  Then gunshots rang out. Three of his hired lackeys were standing on the tailgate of the nearest truck taking shots at the figures riding toward them. Robbie and Jane, risking falling from their mounts, hurled rocks at the men, their backpacks brimming with more ammunition.

  Rokoff ducked as a rock glanced off his head and shattered the Land Rover’s side window. He could feel the blood roll down his forehead. The girl had thrown it. He fired at her, but in the chaos and dust it was impossible to take aim. He shouted to the convoy drivers.

  “Let’s go!”

  Rokoff noticed one of his bodyguards had Tarzan in his sights, but before he could pull the trigger there was a flash of yellow and a sleek cheetah leaped from the dust cloud, claws extended. The man cried in pain as the cat cannoned into him and they both fell from the truck. Rokoff heard his screams choke as the cheetah tore into its prey.

  The drivers all started their engines at the same time, concluding that they only stood a chance if they moved.