“Stealth and surprise,” Tony nods. “You’re talkin’ stealth and surprise like an Apache Indian.”
“Precisely.”
We pause for a beat while a knot forms in my stomach and I contemplate all the many ways I might have extracted Elizabeth from that diamond mine if only I’d had the chance. Then, “You take first watch?”
Tony’s eyes shift from me to Anjali’s tent back to me again. He smiles.
“It’s not like that,” I say.
He shoots me a wink while a single droplet of sweat slowly falls down his unshaven cheek.
“Sure it’s not,” he says. Then, his grin turns into a frown. “Elizabeth. You thought she would…”
“Yes,” I say before he can get the words out. “I thought she might…live.”
“Just remember,” he says, “you’re alive. And the life we lead by chasing after fortune and fame, well…you never know. Anything can happen. Bad or good.”
Now it’s my turn to smile. But I can’t honestly say it has anything to do with happiness.
“You never know,” I say. “Love the one you’re with, right?”
“I grew up in the sixties. That’s my motto.”
He grabs his .9mm by the grip, pulls back the slide, cocks a round into the chamber.
“I’ll be sitting in a tree case you need anything, Baker.”
“What could I possibly need from you,” I say, as he disappears into the darkness.
***
Moments later, I lie on my back inside my tent, my shirt and T-shirt removed in the hot, humid heat, but my pants and boots still on, just in case I need to move quickly. The only thing you can truly expect in the jungle is the unexpected. Or so I warn myself over and over again.
“Life is a jungle,” I whisper. “I like the jungle…need the jungle. Elizabeth needed the jungle too. Needed to be searching. And when she found what she wanted, she died for it.”
It’s as if she knew I was watching. That somehow fate had intervened one final time and waited for my arrival to the jungle, just so I could witness her final, horrible moments chained to those pilasters above the open diamond mine, only inches away from the Golden Kali Statue she desired for so long.
I close my eyes, wait for the onset of sleep. But I know my efforts will be futile. I listen to the insects buzzing all around me. The howls of the spider monkeys. Snakes slither in the grass outside my tent—paralysis and death in their venomous bite. Black spiders crawl up and down the tent poles, spinning their webs. Bats swoop down from overhead while tigers eye their prey in the deep heart of darkness.
The entire lethal world feels alive. But I feel dead inside.
Maybe I could have saved Elizabeth if I hadn’t wasted so much time getting to the jungle from Kathmandu. But then, I hadn’t wasted any time. Her fate was sealed before those elephants carried us into the forest. Hell, her fate was sealed before Singh hired me. It was sealed the moment I left her standing there on the train platform five years ago in Varanasi.
Then, a sound, coming from outside the tent. Like an animal trying to get in.
I reach for my automatic, plant a bead on whatever it is that’s about to enter my portable domicile. When the tent flap flips up and I see the figure of a woman in the half light, my brain thinks, Elizabeth. But that’s impossible. It is instead, Anjali. Her hair has been let down and it drapes her narrow shoulders like a smooth black veil. She’s wearing a white tank top and a pair of black panties. Her feet are bare.
Without a word, she crawls over to me, onto me.
Then, “You should have worn your boots,” I say. “Snakes thrive out there.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I know you suffered a great loss today. I haven’t been very good about it. Forgive me. But now I just want you to hold me and if you allow it, I’d like to hold you in return.”
I squeeze her tightly and inhale her rose petal scent. I feel her hair against my face and I feel my heart beating. After a time, my eyes close and the deadly world around me goes quiet.
I sleep the restless sleep of a broken-hearted man, until…
…my body slips out from under Anjali’s. Slips out of the tent as though lifted by invisible gods so that I feel myself effortlessly rising into the night sky. When I’m above the treeline, my body stops its ascent and hovers over the jungle. Appearing from out of the darkness, the illuminated figure of a woman who bears the burden of four sets of arms. The burden, however, does not diminish her beauty. On the contrary, only adds to it.
Kali…
Her hair is long and lush, her skin milky and smooth, her eyes the color of obsidian, her lashes thick and soft. She wears gold necklaces and many bracelets on all eight wrists. The jewelry jangles musically with every fluid motion of her fingers, hands, and arms, as if she were a jellyfish propelling herself along in a clear, calm, deep, blue sea.
In one of her hands, she holds a severed head. Elizabeth’s head. In another hand, she holds a sword, of which the wide blade is blood-stained. In yet another hand, she holds Elizabeth’s still bleeding heart. I want to scream at the she-devil, reach out and strangle her, but it’s impossible to move. I am helpless.
The closer Kali comes to me, the easier it is to make out her face, her naked breasts, her bare belly, the naval pierced with a blue diamond stud. Her arms are never still as they wave and twirl, hypnotizing and frightening me with their macabre dance. When she is finally upon me, she spreads her long legs and straddles me. I enter into her with the length of my manhood and feel her insides as if they’ve been created not out of human flesh, but lava and flame. It’s so hot I want to scream, but I am paralyzed.
“You belong to me, Chase Baker,” she whispers softly, but somehow forcefully, passionately.
When I release, she begins to laugh and her face ignites with an intense pleasure that is matched only with my regret, shame, and disgust. She raises herself up and off of me then, and floats away while I fall rapidly back to the earth…a mortal man touched and violated by Satan herself.
23
Wake to a scream, my body on fire, sweat-soaked.
Anjali raises up, eyes wide. “Chase, am I dreaming?”
I sit up. Listen.
Another shriek.
“Help! Somebody please! Help!” The voice is muffled and distant. But I hear it plain enough.
“You’re not dreaming. It’s Rudy.”
Gazing at my watch. “Holy Christ. It’s five in the morning. We’ve slept all night.”
Gathering my gear, I exit the tent, take a quick look around for Rudy. He’s nowhere to be seen. I’m holding my automatic, the sweat from my palm coating the grip. To my left, the Sherpas are still asleep.
“Hey!” I bark. “Up, up!”
Both of them wake, raise themselves from the ground.
“Ocha,” they recite instinctually. “Ocha.”
Behind me, Anjali emerges from the tent.
“Stay here,” I say. Then, to the Sherpas, “You come with me.”
Another shriek comes from the opposite side of the tree line.
“Tony!” I shout. “Tony, you awake?”
A rustling through the bush and the old excavator appears.
“I heard it,” he says, nodding. “Coming from that direction. Not far from the grassy opening where we used the drone last night.”
He’s holding his automatic.
“Let’s go,” I bark.
We begin to trudge through the forest, the Sherpas on our tail.
“By the way,” I say, “why didn’t you wake me to take my turn on watch?”
“Saw you had company.”
“You’re all heart, Tone.” I recall snippets of my nightmare…Kali coming to me…doing something unspeakable to me.
“Well, you know what your old man used to say about you?”
“No, what did the old man say about me?”
“That boy of mine…he’s a sucker for the ladies. All they gotta do is smile at him and he’s whipped.”
“No wonder I’m not married.”
“Can’t make that crap up, Baker.”
We push through the trees and come to the opening. It’s then we get our first look at Rudy. He’s partially covered by a patch of tall grass, but from what I can see, he’s squatting, his pants pulled down around his ankles. Standing four square, maybe fifty feet away, is a black rhino. The two-ton, dinosaur-like beast is snorting through its nostrils, bobbing back and forth on its stubby legs like a boxer warming up in his corner, awaiting that final millisecond when the bell will ring and he comes out charging.
“Rudy,” I say from the edge of the woods, “don’t move.”
“Thanks for the advice, mate,” he says in his British accent, his voice filled with quiet panic. “Shoot the thing before he rams me.”
I turn to Tony. He’s laughing so hard I think he might burst the buttons on his work shirt.
“You think our pistols will bring that thing down?” I say.
“You … need…Bruce’s hunting rifle,” Tony says in between laughs.
I turn to the Sherpas, relay the order. They run back through the woods to the camp.
“Hold still, Rudy,” I say. “Help is coming.”
“Hurry it up,” he says. “That beast is growing impatient.”
“Hey, Rudy,” Tony bellows in between chuckles, “you’ve really got yourself in a shitty situation this time, buddy.”
“Shut up, Tony,” the bartender says.
“This really stinks, huh?” Tony presses. “You need toilet paper?”
“Tony, shut…up!”
The beast lets out another snort. It takes a few, quick, thunderous steps forward towards Rudy, as if testing the waters.
Rudy screams again.
“Oh shit,” Tony says, his voice suddenly deadpan, “this is getting serious.”
From where I’m standing, I can see that the blood has drained from Rudy’s face and neck, making the red rope burn that rings it even more swollen and painful looking. His blue eyes are open wide and he’s blinking rapidly. How the chubby, fifty-something man has been able to hold his body in a squat position for as long as he has is beyond me. Fear is a powerful motivator.
Some rustling coming from behind me. I turn to see the Sherpas returning with the 30.06. They hand me the rifle. Turning to Tony.
“You’re the better shot,” I say.
He looks at me like I just asked him to shoot his own mother.
“I’m not gonna shoot a beautiful, majestic rhino,” he barks. “I’d rather shoot Rudy.”
“Holy shit, can you guys please help me now!” shouts Rudy.
“Okay, okay,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
“Go get ‘em, Hemingway,” Tony says.
“Thanks,” I say. “But you’re not off the hook that easy. You have to act as my backup in case I miss.”
“Why me?”
“Because Sherpas don’t shoot, asshole. And you do.”
Tony cocks a round into his .9mm, takes a knee, raises it up combat position, takes aim.
I grip the wood stocked hunting rifle in both hands, open the bolt, cock a round into the breach, close the bolt.
“Here I go,” I take the first step in my approach to the open space of grassland that separates Rudy from the beast.
I’m no stranger to dangerous situations. I’ve survived plane crashes, anaconda attacks, and I’ve even been buried alive. But never in my life have I been made to stare down tons of wild beast that can crush me with its horns in an instant. I’m no expert but from what I’ve been told by white hunters in the past, a rhino can cover up to twenty meters at a full sprint in just a few seconds. They are far faster than they look.
The animal locks its black eyes on me. He’s snorting, bobbing, clawing at the ground with its right hoof. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s getting ready to charge. Raising the rifle, I press the stock against my shoulder, sight him in, aim for the small sweet fleshy spot above its breast plate but below its neck. Shoot too low and the bullet will lodge itself in the thick, bony material. Shoot too high and the bullet will either pass clean through the neck or, if it lowers its head, which it is sure to do, will simply ricochet off the bony nose.
Inhaling slowly…thumbing off the safety…finger on the trigger…
“Come on, come on, Chase,” Tony insists. “He’s gonna run you over, man…Do it…Do it now.”
“Shoot him, Chase,” Rudy whispers hard. “Hell you waiting for, mate.”
A droplet of cold sweat drips down into my left eye, rendering it useless
The beast opens up its mouth wide, lets loose with a loud roar. My insides turn to liquid, head begins to spin. I exhale half my air, depress my index finger.
I shoot.
24
The shot misses. Too high.
I cock the rifle again, but the bolt jams.
The rhino yelps, digs in with its front hoofs like a sprinter taking his mark, then explodes in a full frontal charge.
Tony shoots, but also misses.
I back step and, at the same time, make out the sound of Rudy screaming like a girl while he runs away with his pants down around his ankles, falling flat on his face.
Tony fires again and manages to hit the beast in his top horn, the boney material splintering like shrapnel. Forcing back the rifle bolt, I release the jam. Shouldering the weapon once again, I take aim. Fire.
Another miss.
That’s when all fear simply pours out of me like air through a suddenly punctured balloon. Realization fills my veins. I’m about to die. While the sight of a two-ton locomotive with one spear-tipped horn and one now jagged horn coming directly for me fills my vision, I feel almost detached from the earth. Like my body is here, but my soul has already pulled an Elvis and exited the building. Even the rapid-fire gunshots coming from Tony’s .9mm don’t seem to register. Everything is slowed down and sped up at the same time, like a broken projector.
I close my eyes, await the collision…
…that never happens.
Something else happens instead.
The rhino passes me by entirely. It passes by Rudy. It begins to gallop a big, wide circle around us, all the time snorting and hissing, letting loose with the occasional grunt, like he’s much more interested in scaring the crap out of us than killing us. And maybe he is.
After completing two full revolutions, he simply heads for the brush and disappears.
No more rhino.
Tony approaches me, his face a patina of relief and smiles.
Rudy comes up on my opposite side. He’s pulling up his pants while he walks.
“Holy crap that was close,” he says.
“Exactly,” I whisper in disbelief. “Holy…crap.”
I’m still in a daze, my body not yet anchored on the solid earth.
“Am I dead?” I say. “And this is it? I gotta spend all eternity with you sons-a-bitches in heaven…or hell?”
Tony laughs aloud, slaps me on the shoulder.
“I can think of worse situations,” he says. “But you’re not dead… yet. Although that was one of the bravest things I’ve ever witnessed, Baker. I have a new respect for you. And to think I used to think of you as the spoiled little daddy’s boy. Well, look at you now.”
“Tone,” I say.
“What is it?”
“I think I peed myself.”
He steps back, gingerly. “That’s a perfectly normal reaction to facing down a full frontal charge from a fully grown rhino…or so I would imagine.”
After a beat, all feeling returns to my limbs. Happily, I discover that I have not peed myself, which makes me feel even prouder. However, it’s time we got back on the trail of the God Boy and left this forest behind for good.
“Tony,” I say, “let’s break camp and get moving.” Then, “Rudy, pull up your pants and help the Sherpas with the elephants.”
“What about you?” Tony says as he slides a fresh clip into his .9mm.
“I’m
going to have a drink,” I say. “Or maybe two.”
Making my way for the opening in the trees, I head back to camp, hoping that Rudy had the good sense to leave enough whiskey for me.
25
A half hour later camp is broken, the tents and equipment packed up and ready for travel. We’ve mounted our elephants and now are heading in a northwest direction towards Kashmiri’s diamond deposit, praying all the time we’re not spotted by one of his spies along the way.
The going is slow but steady as the elephants bust through the thickest of foliage with all the powerful efficiency of Abrams battle tanks. At one point, I turn to make an eyeball check on the crew when I see that Rudy’s eyes are closing, his head bobbing. The step-and-sway motion of his elephant is putting him to sleep. Meanwhile, Tony is ever alert and vigilant and keeping his eyes open for bandits, his cheek stuffed with fresh tobacco. Anjali has been quiet, and the most we’ve communicated since waking has been a few casually exchanged smiles. Perhaps she is silently reciting prayers on behalf of her boy.
Here’s the truth of the matter: Part of me wants to fall in love with her, but a far bigger part of me knows that I am no good for her. That our situation is no good. She’s a mom and a good one. A woman who is willing to put her life on the line in order to free her boy. I would do the same for my little girl, in a heartbeat. But something tells me Anjali could never be happy with a vagabond, a wanderer, an explorer. I would only leave her frustrated. And besides, all good love ends badly no matter what form it takes. There’s no escaping it.
Or, perhaps I’m thinking too much. Talking myself out of a good thing. A solid and stable thing. Maybe I should give Anjali some credit. She’s a big girl. She knows what she’s doing. Or maybe like Tony says, I ought to get out of my own way and love the one I’m with. But in the back and fore of my mind, I see the face of Elizabeth as I left her alone on the train platform…as her heart was cut out of her chest by an evil man…
Chase Baker and the God Boy: (A Chase Baker Thriller Series Book No. 3) Page 12
