Savage Lands (3 page)

Once again, Jane struggled in the mud, but it held her tight. She turned back to see Greystoke swing the rope with one hand.

“Grab hold!” he shouted as he let go of one end.

Jane caught it, instantly twisting it around her wrist for extra security, and slid to a halt. Archie held the rope as Greystoke backed toward the trees to get a firmer footing.

“I'll pull you back.”

Jane shook her head. “No. I've got to see what happened to the others.”

“Jane,” said Archie, his voice breaking with concern. “We can do that. First I want you to come back where it's safer.”

“So you can go over the edge to look?” Despite the fear she felt she couldn't help but give a short laugh. “And who's going to hold the rope? Me?”

Archie knew his parental responsibility was to argue, but she was right. Before he could even answer, Jane had tied the rope around her waist and held the trailing cord with one hand.

“OK, give me some slack.”

Archie glanced at Greystoke who shrugged—it wasn't his decision. Archie muttered under his breath, then composed himself. “OK, go easy though.”

Jane edged toward the slope, leaning as far forward as she could. She called for more slack and reached the incline. It was a good seventy degrees, possibly more. The mud had carried debris through the trees, some of which had wedged in low-hanging branches. Rain flowed over the waterlogged mud in fast-flowing streams. Descent without the rope would be impossible, even with it …

Then she saw a shock of color poking through the mud about thirty feet below. It was the unmistakable red of Clark's poncho, but he wasn't moving.

“Clark?” Jane's voice sounded small, drowned out by the heavy rain. She tried again, louder: “CLARK!”

For a moment he didn't stir. Then he looked up. Only the whites of his eyes were clearly visible beneath his mud mask. It was so comical, Jane nearly laughed aloud. “Are you hurt?”

“Of course I'm bloody hurt!” he snapped back with enough grumpiness to tell Jane he was fine.

“Where's Robbie?” her voice almost broke as she said his name. Robbie had changed so much since she first met him that she now couldn't imagine not having him around.

“He's down 'ere,” said Clark gruffly. “But he ain't comin' up.”

Jane didn't like the sound of that. “I'm coming down!”

Archie put up a feeble show of trying to stop her, but there was no other choice. He tied one end of his own rope to a tree and tossed it to Jane so she could attach it to Clark. Jane turned around, holding her rope with both hands as she carefully stepped backward. With each step she risked falling flat on her face, so she didn't rush her descent. Twice she had to clamber over stumps wedged between trees before she reached Clark.

He had been caught by a huge low-sweeping bough that had hooked him up from danger. She helped him wipe the mud off his face and saw he was cut and bruised, but in one piece. His backpack had taken the brunt of the impact as he had pinballed down the slope. She tied the second rope under his arms and waited as her own line was tied to a tree so both Greystoke and Archie could haul Clark back up the incline.

It took a good ten minutes before Clark was safe and the men could once again lower Jane down. The rain began to ease a little, although all that did was offer a better view of the sheer drop she was approaching. Being with Tarzan had given her a head for heights, but for some reason, even though she had a rope tied to her, standing on the muddy slope felt much less safe than soaring through the treetops a hundred feet above.

The incline suddenly gave way to a sheer cliff where mud slopped over the edge in a slow waterfall. Jane collected herself, gathering her confidence before leaning back over the edge and peering down.

The cliff dropped for several hundred feet, vanishing into the canopy below. Ten feet down, Robbie lay on his back—by some miracle caught from plummeting to his death on a lone curving trunk that clung to a gap in the rock face. It was barely big enough for him, and sagged under his weight. He didn't dare move; instead he stared straight ahead, not risking a look at Jane.

“Took your time,” he said with forced jollity.

Jane grinned, her confidence growing. “You just sit back and let me do all the work. As usual.” She called up for more slack, which she looped under her arms as she had done when learning to rappel one summer camp, long ago.

“Not a bad view,” she said casually as she rappelled the first few feet.

Robbie didn't have time to answer because the trunk he was lying on suddenly cracked and he dropped… .

J
ane didn't pause to assess the situation. She acted on pure instinct, as she had been forced to do ever since she'd got lost in the jungle. Mustering the strongest kick she could, she leaped from the cliff.

Her eyes didn't leave Robbie as she flew toward him, the rope whipping out behind her. The rush of air was deafening and rain stung her face, as painful as the pelt of small stones.

Time seemed to slow as the breaking branch under Robbie sagged. The wood didn't fully break, but he'd reached the tipping point and flipped backward off the branch with a scream.

In less than two seconds, Jane cannoned into him in mid-air—so hard that the breath was knocked from him and his scream turned into a wheeze. She wrapped both her arms and legs tightly around him as the slack in the rope suddenly snapped tight, constricting around her waist with such ferocity Jane yelped, convinced she would be sliced in half. Instead, their rapid descent stopped. Robbie's additional weight pulled at her limbs and she could already feel him slipping from her arms as they swung like a pendulum back toward the cliff—

They slammed hard into the rock face, the brunt of the impact taken by Robbie's backpack. Caught like a fish on a line, they rotated lazily around before the rope began slowly lowering. Jane tried to recall if her father had tied it to a tree. Or was their combined weight now pulling him, Greystoke, and Clark through the mud?

Robbie found his croaky voice. “Now what?”

Jane could still feel him slowly slipping through her arms. She clenched her legs tighter. She was probably crushing the air from him, but he wasn't complaining.

“Your pack—it's too heavy!” she said through gritted teeth.

Even as she spoke, Robbie had spotted the problem. He tried to move his arms to shuck it off, but Jane held him in a vice-like bear hug.

“You're gonna have to let go of me,” he said urgently.

Jane hesitated, unsure if her legs alone would be enough to support him. The rope suddenly jolted, lowering them a couple more feet. They had no choice. She nodded—then unlocked her arms.

No longer supported, Robbie's torso dropped straight down, pulled by the weight of his pack. He scrambled to remove his poncho. It caught across his face, but he managed to throw it off, the bright yellow material fluttering away on the wind. He pulled his arms from the straps, but the pack still refused to fall. Cursing loudly, he remembered fastening the pack's strap around his waist to stop it rubbing as he walked. His fingers were numb as he worked at the plastic catch.

“Hurry!” shouted Jane as they inched farther downward. As both their legs were covered in mud, she could feel Robbie slowly slipping away. She could only imagine the chaos up on the slope as the three men struggled to restrain the rope with slippery, muddy hands.

Robbie tried again, arcing his body so he could see the clip even if he couldn't feel it. He pressed the plastic release again and his backpack suddenly fell far away. Straining his abs, Robbie lunged closer to Jane and they threw their arms around each other in a fierce bear hug—they had never been so close—just as his slick legs slipped through hers and he dangled precariously over the void.

“Things haven't improved,” he said through gritted teeth.

That wasn't entirely correct—at least they had stopped inching lower. An eternity seemed to pass when there was a sudden yank on the rope and they rapidly ascended in a series of jerky movements.

Before long they were hauled back up to the incline where they could see Archie, Clark, and Greystoke heaving at the rope, which they had looped around a tree to form a pulley.

Nobody spoke as they were hauled to safety. All five figures sat back and caught their breath, thankful to be alive. Jane realized it was the first time she could remember being in peril in the jungle that Tarzan hadn't shown. She only hoped that meant he was far away from the aircraft, safely out of Lord William Greystoke's clutches.

• • •

T
he
campfire dried out their damp clothes and attracted insects; it was the only beacon in the inky darkness. Robbie watched as a flying bug the size of his fist crawled across the floor between him and Jane. It was so close to her that she should have freaked out—would have freaked out in the past—but now she simply watched it clean its slender antennae. After saving his life, he had only managed a simple “thanks.” Anything more seemed inappropriate.

Lord Greystoke wildly swatted around his head as flies and beetles hummed past him. He was a man used to the luxuries of life. Archie cooked supper over the fire and Clark nursed his injuries as he tinkered with Greystoke's GPS.

“Is it always like this?” said Greystoke, his voice already wary as he indicated the darkness around him.

“No, it's normally far worse,” Robbie replied when nobody else spoke up.

A piercing caw suddenly rose from the trees, causing Greystoke to flinch. “What the hell is that?”

The others didn't react; it was an all-too-familiar sound. “Monkey,” said Robbie absently. “I thought you'd been out here before? With your ‘business interests'?”

Greystoke flailed at the bugs circling him. “Not so rugged a venture, I'm afraid. Helicopters and air-conditioned jeeps are the way one travels with any degree of civilization.”

Jane didn't flinch as the slender insect moved closer to her foot and slowly crawled up her leg. “Why bother coming out here to find him?” she asked suddenly. “Why not leave him in peace?”

Greystoke couldn't take his eyes off the creature on Jane's leg. All he could see was a slobbering, disease-carrying beast.

“Because he's family,” said Greystoke eventually. “He needs to be given the choice.”

Jane smirked, and Greystoke focused his intense gaze on her. Gone was the mask of a confounded Englishman, replaced by a ruthless, calculating businessman. “If it was one of your family out here: your father, your mother, perhaps …”

Jane flinched at the mention of her mother. Robbie suspected it was a deliberate cheap shot designed to provoke a reaction.

“Wouldn't you want to know they were safe?” Greystoke continued. “To afford them every opportunity of joining the real world rather than living out here as a savage?”

The locust on Jane's leg suddenly took flight, circling toward Greystoke.

“He won't come. He won't speak to you,” muttered Jane. Her voice was barely audible over the crackling campfire, but Greystoke had heard her. Without looking away from her, he swatted the locust. The delicate insect was batted into the fire, its body popping as it ignited.

“He will,” said Greystoke in icy tones. “Something you will come to understand, my dear, is that I always get my way.”

The GPS in Clark's hand bleeped to life. He had removed the back of the device, using his penknife to unscrew it, and had reconnected the sabotaged wire. Numbers flashed on the display screen.

“Bingo! You had some faulty wirin' in there; no wonder this thing wasn't workin',” he said, handing the device to Greystoke, but glaring accusingly at Robbie.

Greystoke studied the coordinates and his shoulders sagged. “This can't be right.”

“What's wrong?” said Archie looking up from the simmering food that was now making Robbie's stomach rumble.

“According to the GPS we're farther away from the site than when we began!” He glared at Jane and Robbie. Robbie looked away, knowing he'd betray them, but Jane held his gaze.

“How do you know where we're headed?” she said flatly. “I thought you needed Clark for that?”

Greystoke's expression didn't falter as Archie and Clark gazed questioningly at him.

“I obtained the information,” he said curtly.

“From where?” probed Robbie.

It was as if the jungle had hushed in order to hear Greystoke. The fire popped and crackled before he spoke up. “I bought it from a hunter who came across the aircraft.”

“Rokoff,” said Jane with certainty. The mention of the Russian hunter caused Greystoke to flinch as if he'd been struck. Jane pressed on, enjoying Greystoke's discomfort. “You hired him, didn't you? You paid him to come up here—” her voice grew louder with each word as her temper flared.

“Jane!” snapped Archie. “Enough.”

Greystoke spoke before she could continue. “My father employed his services on a number of occasions, but I had nothing to do with the unfortunate Ugandan affair. If anything that just gave these gentlemen's claims about Tarzan's possible heritage”—he indicated Robbie and Clark—“more credence.”

Jane flicked a look at Robbie. Even after all the danger they had been through together, Robbie had been surprised that she had so readily forgiven him for trying to prove Tarzan's existence to the Greystokes. He had finally decided it was the wrong thing to do, by which time Clark had already invited the English lord to their camp. Robbie and Jane both knew Rokoff had confessed to killing Tarzan's friend and mentor, D'Arnot, under the orders of Greystoke's father.

“We lost what? Maybe half a day?” said Archie levelly. “I figure the little incident on the pass must've scrambled everybody a little. Now's not the time to throw accusations around.”

“Suppose not,” muttered Jane who, for once, didn't challenge her father.

Robbie saw her look up to the surrounding trees when she thought nobody was looking. He knew what she sensed: the same thing as him. They were being watched.

As Archie shared out the basic rations, Robbie tried to ignore the pain from the bruises across his body. He was knew that was Tarzan watching over them. He would sleep soundly tonight.

• • •

T
arzan
watched the pale light flickering in the darkness and felt a tremor of nerves, something he had not felt since his early years. Back then, he could take refuge by his mother's side. Kala was the ape that had found him in the jungle and raised him as her own. She had long since died, and now Tarzan was responsible for the entire band of apes—and the glow in the darkness troubled him.

Through many seasons the mountain had spewed glowing rock, or lava—he recalled the name Jane had given for it when he'd last brought her there. But the frequency had increased since the Mangani's arrival and Tarzan wondered if it was some Targarni trick. Did they have a special power over the fire rock?

The Targarni had not made an appearance since Tarzan had tracked them back to their lair. He had expected another violent confrontation—brute force was the way of the jungle when scores needed to be settled—but the apes had remained quiet.

Tarzan tried to calm himself. He desperately needed sleep, and all around him he could hear the rustling of the apes and the occasional wheeze as they slept in their nests. The females and younglings were woven among branches in the trees, while a few of the young silverbacks and the heavy Kerchak remained on the ground. They were safe enough, even if the Targarni chose to spring an attack.

Tarzan curled up in a mossy nook in the base of a tree's great roots. He felt sleep take its hold. In that fleeting moment he wondered where Jane was. She was out there, somewhere in the darkness… .

• • •

“A
ll
our provisions have gone!” growled Clark, throwing his backpack down. “All of 'em!”

They'd awoken to a cool misty morning to discover that their backpacks had been looted and the expedition provisions had been taken. Everything was gone; from the general supplies Clark and Archie had been carrying, down to the energy bars they all had in their separate packs.

“Is this him? Tarzan?” said Greystoke with a gleam in his eye as he studied the trees. They looked uninviting as the mist crept between the mighty boles.

“ 'Course it is,” snarled Clark. “He used to sabotage our camp to try 'n' scare us away. Even set fire to it once. Man's an animal.”

Jane was confused. Tarzan was a trickster and could be mischievous, but this made no sense. Why take the food? If anything it would harm the people he cared for—and would do nothing to slow Greystoke's quest.

Greystoke retrieved the GPS from his tent. “We still have this … and a signal. A little weak due to the weather, but at least it works.”

“We can't push on without supplies,” said Archie. “If we're lucky we can make it back to camp before nightfall… .”

Clark waved his hand vigorously to cut off that line of thought. “No way. That's what he wants us to do. We push on. Another half day or so and we get to the plane.”

Archie paused. Clark seldom disagreed so forcefully. “That puts us farther from the food,” he pointed out.

“Well, I guess that's settled then,” said Robbie as he began to pack his gear away. “Let's head home.”

“You're jokin', right?” said Clark. “I know you've lived off the land before.” He stabbed a finger at Jane. “And you certainly know how to find a three-course meal out here.” He drew a hunting knife from a sheath strapped to his shin. “An' I've hunted a fair bit o' game in my time. His lordship 'ere might be a bit out of his depth, but we ain't turnin' back. Right, Arch?” He stared at Archie, an unspoken communication between two old friends, fueled by the huge reward that was just within their grasp. For a moment it looked as if Archie were about to disagree, but he finally nodded.

“Sure,” said Archie. “We know what we're doing.” The last comment was aimed at Greystoke, an assurance that their services were worth the obscene amount of reward money.

With practiced ease, they packed the rest of the camp away in a matter of minutes—although Archie had to help Greystoke fold his tent like some giant piece of origami. The man's privileged upbringing meant he had never had to do very much for himself. They trudged toward the mist-veiled trees, led by Clark who held the GPS. He walked more slowly than ever since the mudslide incident, his limp more pronounced. Jane and Robbie trailed behind.