by Andy Briggs
Jane galloped her zebra across the path of the middle truck, hurling a rock straight through the windshield. It shattered, striking the driver on the head. The man slumped over the wheel and his heavy foot pressed the accelerator, making the truck lurch toward the one in front.
Jane only just managed to clear the space between them as the two trucks collided. The impact knocked one of the gunmen off the tailgate of the middle truck and he fell under the herd’s hooves.
In the cab, the unconscious driver was yanked aside and his passenger took the wheel. The vehicles lumbered forward. Several wildebeest were caught under their wheels, unable to escape.
Rokoff glanced in the Land Rover’s mirror—and when he looked up he was almost on top of a zebra. The animal bounded clumsily onto the hood, hooves slipping on the smooth metal surface. One leg smashed through the windshield and broke the headrest of Paulvitch’s seat. He had been leaning forward to pull a pistol from the glove compartment and narrowly missed being decapitated. The zebra slid across the hood and fell to the ground, where it picked itself up, dazed but unharmed. Paulvitch tried to shoot the animal out of spite, but missed.
Behind Rokoff’s truck, Jane and Robbie hurled more rocks at the convoy. Tarzan wheeled his zebra around, his heels digging into the animal’s flanks as he urged it toward the last truck. He gained distance on the truck, just as one of Rokoff’s hired poachers pulled the canvas sheet away, rifle in hand. He saw Tarzan just a few feet behind, did a double take, then brought the gun to his shoulder.
Tarzan sprang up so that he was standing on the zebra’s back. For a moment he seemed to be surfing the animal before he propelled himself forward, into the back of the truck.
He landed in front of the gun-wielding bodyguard and gripped the rifle with both hands. Since the thug wasn’t about to let go so easily, Tarzan angled the weapon and hit him in the face with the rifle butt. The man was surprised to be struck by the very gun he was holding. Tarzan flipped him over his shoulder and, bouncing off the tailgate, he fell under the thundering hooves of the herd that followed.
Tarzan’s gaze swept the truck. There was no sign of Karnath. Six long ivory elephant tusks lay on the floor. They were still flecked with blood. Tarzan felt his pulse quicken as he was gripped by rage. Then he saw another man, crouching in the shadows. The bodyguard sprang forward, a machete in his hand.
The first blow sliced across Tarzan’s chest, drawing blood as it sliced into his flesh. Tarzan barely registered the pain. He caught the man’s hand as he slashed again with the blade. Only now did Tarzan notice this new poacher was as big as he was—and he had the upper hand as he pressed his weight down on Tarzan. The blade inched closer to Tarzan’s face and both men’s muscular arms shook as they wrestled.
The bodyguard then drove his elbow into the bleeding cut across Tarzan’s chest. The pain was excruciating and Tarzan felt a moment’s weakness buckle his arms. The machete slammed down with the man’s full weight behind it.
Tarzan turned his head aside—the blade nicked his ear lobe and ricocheted from the metal floor. With his weight behind it, the bodyguard over-balanced and fell sprawling across the truck, clanging against the tailgate.
Tarzan was first to stand as his opponent grabbed the truck’s canvas side to pull himself up.
“I’m gonna gut you like an animal,” the man snarled. He tossed the machete into his other hand, menacingly slicing it through the air as he took a step toward Tarzan.
Tarzan picked up one of the heavy ivory tusks, using both hands to wield it like a spear. Then he hurled it with all the force he could muster.
•••
The herd around Rokoff was showing no signs of thinning out. They were moving so fast that the vehicle bounced wildly across the uneven ground. One pothole jerked Rokoff from his seat so violently that he banged his head on the Land Rover’s roof.
He glanced in the mirror and was glad to see the trucks were following. Then to his astonishment, he saw one of his men sail from the back of the rear truck—skewered through the chest by an ivory tusk. The screaming man vanished into the dust cloud.
He saw Tarzan climb from the back of the truck and onto the cab roof. Tarzan reached in through the side window and plucked out the driver. The truck veered sharply as it hit a deep rut in the ground, and then flipped over and crashed onto its roof, ivory spilling everywhere—just as Tarzan leaped on the next truck.
“Shoot him!” Rokoff yelled to Paulvitch.
Paulvitch nodded and stood up through the sunroof, trying to stand firm as the Land Rover swayed around him.
•••
Robbie had ridden a horse before, but only once, and he’d never ridden a zebra. He was finding the whole experience extremely uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he encouraged the zebra alongside the lead truck and lobbed the last of his rocks through the window. Both missed the driver. The driver swerved toward Robbie, almost running into him. As Robbie tried to steer the zebra away, a pair of strong hands grabbed his hair and his jacket and he was dragged into the back of the truck.
•••
Jane was distressed to see Robbie disappear into the truck. She tried to turn her zebra toward him by pulling its mane, but the truck abruptly veered to the side, revealing Rokoff’s Land Rover just in front. Paulvitch was bouncing from side to side through the sunroof when he spotted Jane and took a shot. Luckily, it fell wide. Jane frantically steered her mount in a zigzag to avoid the shots that followed.
She saw Tarzan throw two men and a supply crate through the side of the other truck then climb through the ripped canvas, intent on delivering punishment to the driver. He obviously hadn’t found Karnath there. Jane realized both Robbie and the gorilla were on the same truck, the one that had now slowed to the back of the convoy, probably to confuse them.
From his vantage point on the Land Rover at the head of the convoy, Paulvitch caught sight of Tarzan clinging to the side of the cab, ready to throttle the driver. The Russian swung his gun at him, unable to aim as the jeep bucked on ruts in the ground. His first shot narrowly missed Tarzan and punctured the truck’s radiator. Steam spewed out as he fired again.
Just then a pair of cheetahs drew alongside the Land Rover, their sleek spotted bodies undulating as they easily kept pace with the vehicles. One tried to jump up—its claws raked the rear window but then it fell, tumbling safely away.
The other made a clean bound onto the roof, claws digging into the metal as its fierce jaws bit down on Paulvitch’s broken hand, and a claw slashed at his face. He screamed and shot wildly. The cheetah jumped from the Land Rover unharmed, with Paulvitch’s plaster cast in its mouth.
Paulvitch’s stray shot grazed Tarzan’s bicep and hit the driver of the second truck. The entire vehicle lurched sideways, bounced from a rock and rolled through the grass. The herd parted and moved from the path of destruction as pieces of broken metal flew in every direction. The remaining truck, containing Robbie and Karnath, swerved sharply around the wreckage.
“Tarzan!” Jane yelled. There was no sign of him. The last she’d seen of him, he was clinging to the side of the flipping truck.
She raced toward the wreckage, pulling on the zebra’s mane to bring it to a halt, then jumped off and ran over to the scene.
“Tarzan?”
The mangled truck was strewn across the grassland. Smoke poured from the smashed engine. She saw an arm poking from underneath a flap of canvas and pulled the cloth away, revealing Tarzan beneath. He was motionless, his body covered in blood, although she was unsure whose.
“No!” She knelt down, unsure what to do. “Can you hear me?”
Her stomach knotted and she felt ill. Tarzan couldn’t possibly be dead, could he?
She looked up to see the Land Rover and remaining truck heading toward the horizon. On board were Karnath and Robbie. She knew the little ape would be in safe hands—after all there was a collector waiting for him. Who knew what fate awaited Robbie.
The herd dispersed and the pair o
f cheetahs licked their wounds, taking shelter from the harsh sun under a large acacia, watching her. Jane had no idea what to do. If Tarzan were dead, she too would undoubtedly die out here, alone.
19
Robbie was furious. He felt foolish for allowing himself to be captured and now found himself in close proximity to Nikolas Rokoff. To his surprise, Rokoff had been a perfect gentleman and offered him water and food after saving him from the thugs in the truck beating him black and blue. Rokoff had yelled at them. He even struck one man with a knotted rope until he was bleeding.
“No one is to harm him,” Rokoff growled threateningly.
“What are you going to do with me?” asked Robbie, determined not to show any fear. Rokoff just smiled and said nothing.
They finally stopped at the edge of another huge lake and boarded a motor yacht. Karnath’s cage was carefully lifted on board under the Russian’s watchful gaze. The journey across the lake took the entire night, but Robbie was too full of adrenalin to sleep.
A quick search of his cabin revealed it was impossible to escape—the windows were too narrow to crawl through and the door was locked.
At dawn they reached a bustling port near the city of Kampala. Rokoff led Robbie to a waiting Land Rover and bundled him in along with Karnath’s cage. They sped through the streets without Rokoff saying a word. The city looked much like any other and soon they arrived in the wealthy business district where skyscrapers dominated the city.
They entered an underground garage beneath a large glass tower block, which was filled with luxury cars. Robbie didn’t have time to admire them as Rokoff hurried his party to a service elevator.
“What are we doing here?” Robbie asked again. He never received an answer. Rokoff ignored him and the four menacing armed men, who carried Karnath’s cage between them, glared at him as they ascended.
They ushered Robbie in to a luxury penthouse apartment, tastelessly decorated throughout with animal skins and mounted heads. Ataro Okeke greeted Rokoff with open arms, kissing him on both cheeks. The Russian was clearly uncomfortable but tolerated the embrace. Okeke crouched to look at Karnath.
The little gorilla was silent, watery brown eyes staring fearfully back at the man. Everything about the room looked and smelled wrong to the ape.
“Magnificent!” breathed Okeke. “He’s truly magnificent! Nikolas, you have excelled yourself. In fact, since the order was placed I have had several other interested buyers contacting me with better prices. Now we’re going to have an auction for this beauty!”
Rokoff smiled. That was typical Okeke, playing one bidder against another. He wasn’t the most reliable person to do business with.
Okeke turned to Robbie and studied him carefully. “And what have we here? Does it have a name?”
“Robert.”
“Robert . . .?” Okeke prompted.
“Just Robert.”
Rokoff remained silent, but smirked as if humored by Robbie’s defiance. Okeke sneered and slowly circled him. “How mysterious. An American out in the wild, defending a wild gorilla with his own life. How did that happen, Robert?”
Robbie thought of several excuses he could use, but Rokoff cut him off before he could speak.
“He’s part of an illegal logging team in the Congo. I used them to get close to this.” He pointed at Karnath. Robbie noticed that he didn’t mention Tarzan.
“Illegal logging, eh?” said Okeke to Robbie. “What would your embassy think of that if I turned you over?”
“I think they would be more interested in the fact that you’re hunting endangered species,” Robbie replied sharply.
Okeke stopped in his tracks and Rokoff gave a low snigger.
“You forget your place. Telling your embassy you are alive would be a mercy compared with killing you and dumping your body out in the savannah. Trust me, no one will find you there. They never do.”
Robbie felt a chill run through him. Okeke’s voice never rose in pitch, but the malice in his eyes was unmistakable.
“I’ve got a feeling he’s going to be quite useful yet,” said Rokoff as he moved to the window and gazed across the city.
“How so?” said Okeke, never taking his eyes from Robbie.
“Because there’s a private investigator looking for him. There’s a bounty on his head.”
Okeke’s eyes widened. “How much?”
Rokoff ignored the question and gazed at Robbie, who was startled by the comment. “You see, a good hunter knows his prey. I know all about you, Mr. Canler.” Robbie reacted in surprise when he heard his name. “I know what you did. What you’re running from. I even left a little trail for the investigator to follow.”
Robbie glowered. He felt nothing but hatred for Rokoff. He was pretty sure that he could overpower Okeke; the man looked like he’d enjoyed one too many luxuries in his life. But there was nothing he could use as a weapon against the Russian. In fact, he didn’t think he could beat him no matter what the circumstances were.
“He’ll be worth hanging on to for a while,” said Rokoff with a smile.
Robbie was unable to remain silent any longer. The Russian’s arrogance needed putting in its place. “You know that won’t be for long. You know who’s coming. He won’t stop until we are both free.” He nodded to Karnath. “And he has no mercy.”
Okeke looked between them both, clearly confused. “Who?”
Robbie ignored him. His gaze remained on Rokoff. “There is no way of stopping him. You can’t reason with him or bargain with him. He will find you.”
To Robbie’s surprise, Rokoff started to grin and his eyes narrowed with delight. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal disk. He held it up for Robbie to see. It was the GPS tracker Robbie had slipped in there.
“I am counting on it, Mr. Canler. I am counting on it.”
•••
The twitching vein in Tarzan’s neck was the first sign of life Jane saw as she knelt by his side. At first she thought it was a trick of the shadows. Darkness had rapidly descended and there was now a full red moon. It provided some light across the savannah and her flashlight lit up the area immediately around her. A herd of zebra was still grazing close by and their gentle grunts and squeals gave her some reassurance.
Jane pressed her finger against Tarzan’s neck and found his pulse. It felt strong. She swatted flies away as they landed on his chest, knowing they could carry disease. She thought about trying to find water, but had no idea where to look and she didn’t think leaving a wounded Tarzan near the cheetahs was wise. She didn’t know how far the bond of respect between Tarzan and the wild animals went.
Eventually, Tarzan’s eyes flicked open. Under the circumstances, most people would clutch their heads and try to find the strength to stand, but Tarzan stood straight up. When he wobbled slightly, Jane caught his arm until he found his balance.
A pair of spotted hyenas lay in the grass close by, the light reflecting in their eyes. They had been judging Tarzan as a potential meal, but now he growled at them and they fled, gibbering, to join others of their clan feasting on the crushed bodies of the wildebeests run over by the truck.
“Rokoff?” said Tarzan, his mouth almost too dry to get the words out.
“Gone,” said Jane. “He took Karnath and Robbie with him.”
Tarzan kicked a fragment of the broken truck and stared at the horizon.
“But we still have this.” She pulled the tracker from her backpack. The stationary blip flashed rhythmically.
Tarzan sucked air through his teeth in pain. He usually bore pain in stoic silence, so this reaction alarmed Jane. Pointing to his wounds, she said, “You need those treated.”
Jane shone the light across his chest and Tarzan inspected the cuts. Only the machete wound across his chest gave him pause for thought. He ripped a strip of canvas from the truck and then examined the twisted engine, pointing to where he wanted Jane to shine her light. Tarzan covered the canvas with oil leaking from the crankcase and
wrapped it around his chest to form a basic bandage.
“No busso,” he explained. Jane frowned and Tarzan pointed to the flies that circled her flashlight beam. “Busso.”
Jane understood: The oil would keep them away.
“If we rest for a bit and leave before dawn we can beat the heat of the day,” Jane began.
Tarzan shook his head. “No rest. Go now.”
“I don’t think you’re in a fit state to walk anywhere.”
“No walk.”
Jane shone her flashlight across the herd of zebra. The light sent murmurs of unrest through it.
“You want to ride another pacco?” she said, using Tarzan’s word for zebra.
“No pacco. Need to travel fast.” He nudged her flashlight beam out over the herd and she let out a confused huh when she saw his unlikely choice of transport.
The flock of ostriches looked too gawky as they sat close to a hardy shrub, unaware of their new role in Tarzan and Jane’s next mission.
•••
An hour before the sun crested the horizon, the sky was filled with the eerie shadowless pre-dawn light. Waves lapped the shore of the huge lake that stretched before Tarzan and Jane. They dismounted the ostriches that had carried them through the night at speed, passing nocturnal predators such as a pride of hunting lions, navigating difficult terrain where a four-legged steed would have stumbled. The birds had been tireless and surprisingly easy to control. If it hadn’t been for the dire circumstances, Jane would have found the journey quite enjoyable.
Now the lake appeared to be their final hurdle in reaching Karnath and Robbie. After some scouting around, they discovered a small locked hut with several boats moored on a jetty. A sign read: RUBONDO ISLAND NATIONAL PARK, LAKE VICTORIA.
Jane recalled a little of what she knew about the lake from her lessons with Esmée back at the camp. It was one of the largest tropical lakes in the world and sat between Tanzania and Uganda. She wished she’d paid more attention to Esmée. Her lessons had seemed trivial and dull at the time, but now that knowledge would be invaluable.
