The Extinct (28 page)

Jalani walked to him and smiled. “They now consider you a man,” she said.

He didn’t feel like a man. He didn’t feel like much of anything. Just a cold, gray weight in his belly and dizziness in his head. William was a good man; he didn’t deserve to die like that. Eric understood it was a mistake but he didn’t deserve that. He’d saved Eric’s life and now he was gone. “I didn’t kill it.”

“No, but you showed courage in the hunt. That is what is important. To have courage in the face of death. That is what a warrior is.” Jalani awaited a response but Eric gave none so she leaned down and gently kissed his cheek. “I am glad you are safe.” She walked back to the celebration.

The feast got underway and the meat was skewered on smooth sticks and passed around. Though vegetarian, the elders of the village had made an exception for this animal as they believed they would absorb its power. There was a boiling pot in which the beast’s heart was taken out and carefully cut as the medicine man of the village chanted a prayer. Pieces of the heart were given to all the hunters, the largest portion going to Thomas. He ate the heart with his eyes closed, blood dripping down his chin like one of his savage ancestors. Afterwards he rose and walked to where Eric was seated.

“He was a good man, but bad things often happen out here,” Thomas said, sitting down next to him.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t kill him on purpose.”

Surprise splashed across Thomas’s face, but only for a moment. He looked Eric in the eyes and said, “I did not mean to kill that man. He was my friend, Eric. And what possible reason would I have for doing so? He was a paying customer, a good paying customer.

“The truth is the tribesmen are not as well trained on rifles as we are. It’s a new technology to them and they take it too lightly. But I take full responsibility. I should not have told them to fire when you two were in harm’s way. I’m sorry I caused you this pain.”

Eric wasn’t sure what he could see. Still, he needed to hear those words come out of his mouth. “Where was he buried?”

“Out here. I don’t think there’s any Mormons I know of that could give him a proper send off, but we found a nice piece of land underneath the shade of a tree.”

“Sandra doesn’t seem very pissed off at you.”

“She will grieve in her own way. But what now for you? Where will you go?”

“I can’t stay here.”

“Oh?” Thomas said, a slight twinge of sadness in his voice.

“There’s nothing but death.”

“Death and beauty,” Thomas said, staring off at the sky. “When you’re older, I think you’ll see that death is everywhere. It must be. In the end, that’s all there is.” Thomas rose, taking something out of his pocket and handing it to Eric. “I wanted you to have this.”

It was a one of the creature’s teeth fastened on a piece of leather to make a necklace. “Thanks.”

Thomas nodded, and walked away. Some of the children ran up to him and began yelling requests. He lamented and picked up a stone. Taking aim at about twenty yards away, he threw the stone and hit the creature’s head on the post. The children erupted in awe and laughter.

You never miss, Eric thought.

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The celebration lasted well into the night. The meat that wasn’t eaten was hung over thick vine and smoked dry. The hide was cut up and would be used as clothing and the bones would be made into weapons and tools. Nothing was wasted.

Eric woke in the middle of the night and sat up. An image ran through his mind: William lying on the ground, blood leaking into the earth. It didn’t let him sleep. The whole incident replayed in his head over and over. The smell of gunpowder and blood, the bassed sound of large rifles, William’s last breaths.

Eric stood using a wooden crutch the villagers had carved out of a log for him. He walked outside the tent and stood in the night. The moon was high and lit the valley before him in pale light. There were swarms of gazelle and deer grazing in the tall grass. He looked around the village; it was empty and the fires were all out except for one at the end. He hoped Jalani was still awake.

Eric began slowly limping over, the bare wood of the crutch digging into the flesh of his underarm. A breeze was blowing and it felt cool against the burnt skin on his face. Snoring was coming from some of the tents he passed, a few groans of pleasure coming from others. He made his way to the last fire and looked into the tent.

Sandra’s nude body lay on a bed of fur. Thomas was on top of her, kissing her passionately, his hands caressing her soft skin. Eric moved away from the tent, but stood nearby. What kind of woman would . . .?

An epiphany screamed in his head and he had to sit down on a nearby stone to quiet it down. He looked toward the tent, disgust and guilt going through him in waves. He finally stood up and wobbled back to his tent.

The next morning came quietly, most of the village sleeping off their drunkenness well into midday. Douglas woke Eric and told him they would be leaving soon. Another jeep had been brought from Kavali and they would be going back there.

Eric hadn’t slept more than a few hours. His dreams were filled with blood and laughter and screams. He saw William’s torn body. It was standing upright and speaking to him, trying to say something but no sound was coming out. The flesh was so badly ripped on his face Eric didn’t recognize him at first. He said something and then collapsed.

Eric rose and limped out of the tent. His ankle felt better though the swelling hadn’t gone down. He was pretty certain it wasn’t broken.

The sun was already bright and the cool breeze of last night was replaced with a wall of boiling heat. He looked out before the valley before him, observing the contrast between the sapphire blue sky and the golden grass below. A leopard stood over a gazelle, carefully glancing around every few seconds to make sure nothing was trying to spirit away her kill. She looked up once and saw Eric on top of the plateau.

“Come on, Eric,” Douglas said, “we’re riding with Thomas.”

They loaded everything in their jeep and Eric sat in the back, Thomas and Douglas sitting up front. Jalani had left with Sandra and Dr. Namdi an hour before and her jeep was already well out of sight.

Thomas walked into a few tents, presumably to say good bye, and then hopped into the driver’s seat and started the engine. They pulled away from the village and slowly made their way down the side of the plateau, Thomas carefully applying the brakes to keep from gaining too much speed. Occasionally they would slide and he would turn the wheel sharply left or right, causing the jeep to twist to its side and come to a halt. But they made their way down and the jeep chugged along the dirt path.

Eric pulled out the handgun Jalani had given him. He aimed it at the back of Thomas’s head.

His hand began to shake and a familiar choking sensation came over him. It was hard to breathe. He felt the weight of the gun in his palm and was taken back to his mother’s kitchen, standing over a bloody corpse. Thomas’s gray hair ended above his neck and sweat was starting to form on the skin below it. Eric watched a drop roll down over the skin and absorb into the collar of his shirt.

Eric threw the gun over the side of the jeep.

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They rode in silence for a couple of hours, just absorbing the scenery. They had to stop and wait for a herd of kiang, a type of Asian ass, to cross their path, the large females circling the younger ones to protect them from the strange mechanical beast in their midst. Douglas climbed out and walked a few paces before urinating on a bush.

“Did she come to you to kill him or did you go to her?” Eric said, looking off in the distance at a glimmering river.

“Pardon?”

“When you killed William, was it more for you or her?”

“Stop talking nonsense boy. I’m sorry, he was a good man. But I had—”

“I saw you together in the tent last night.”

Thomas looked back at him in the rearview and then turned forward again. “They had a loveless marriage. She’s wasn’t that heartbroken and she didn’t need to be.”

Douglas came back and they started off. A red Volkswagen bus crossed their path and Thomas stopped and chatted awhile. They were Canadian tourists looking to film a pride of Asian lions and he recommended the best spots.

Another hour into the drive and Douglas was already drunk, telling longwinded stories about his adventures. Eric surmised that he had him figured out. He didn’t actually care about adventure; he cared about telling others about his adventures. He lived through what others saw of him. He lived only in their eyes. At that moment, Douglas made him sick.

The grass became taller—at least chest high—and the path turned into a decent dirt road and became narrower. Eric should have felt some trepidation but he didn’t. He didn’t feel anything.

There was an object ahead in the road but it was too far off to make out exactly what it was. It looked like a large animal but it wasn’t moving. As they approached, Eric made out the sharp contours of the other jeep. It was flipped upside down.

Thomas pulled to the side. There were blood stains across the wheels and on the dirt around the vehicle. The engine was smoking and supplies were scattered across the road.

Eric felt sick. Jalani.

Eric jumped out of the jeep and ran over, getting on his hands and knees and looking into the wreckage. Douglas and Thomas were out and tried to help. They managed to tip the jeep to one side and saw that there was nothing underneath.

“Sandra!” Thomas yelled out over the grass. “Sandra!”

Douglas went back to the jeep and started blaring the horn. They stopped a few seconds to listen and then started again. Thomas took out his rifle.

“Where are you going?” Douglas said.

“To find them.”

“This is fresh,” Douglas said. “Those tourists we passed didn’t say anything so this must have just recently happened. Maybe they’ve walked up the road a bit?”

Thomas hung the rifle strap over his shoulder. “Take the boy and look up the road a few kilometers. Then come back here and wait for me.”

Eric climbed into the jeep and rode with Douglas up the road. Douglas would honk the horn every half a minute and then wait to see if he could hear a response. They managed to attract the attention of a pride of lions that stood under the shade of a tree watching the curious visitors, but nothing else.

“They probably had an accident,” Douglas said, more to himself than Eric. “Jalani must’ve been drunk.”

They drove for five kilometers and spotted nothing. Just animals and grass and trees and the blue open sky. Douglas turned around and headed back.

“What’s the matter?” Douglas said. “You used to be quite talkative . . .I’m sure they’re fine, we’ll find them. I suppose you’re still upset about Will’s death too, eh? It was an honest mistake, Eric. It could’ve happened to anyone.”

“Suppose so,” Eric said flatly.

They came back to the sight of the overturned jeep and Douglas shut off the engine. Birds were high up in a nearby tree singing but there was no breeze and the heat sat on you and cooked.

“You know, that creature,” Douglas said. “I think I know what it was.”

“It wasn’t a hyena?”

“No, it was. But it was obviously far too large to be the spotted hyena it appeared. I’d read about something once called Hyaenodon. It’s the ancestor of the hyena only much larger. I wonder if it could still exist out here?”

“The villagers think it’s punishment from God.”

“Yes.” Douglas pulled out a flask and took a drink, “that it might be.”

Douglas pressed the horn but no one came so he stopped. Noon turned into afternoon and afternoon into evening as they sat in the jeep, drinking water and eating snack chips and dried meat. The sun went down and darkness descended, sparkling stars covering the tar-black sky.

“How long do you think we should wait?” Douglas said, obviously losing his nerve. “I don’t like sitting out here in the dark.”

“You want to leave?” Eric said, amused. “I thought Thomas was your friend?”

“He is, of course,” Douglas said, offended. “I’m just saying there’s not much we can do just sitting out here like bait.”

Their heads turned simultaneously. Out past a small tree came a sound that had burned itself into Eric’s mind. Something that would appear in his sleep like a ghost; the sound of maniacal laughter.

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Darkness covered Thomas and his only light was the moon, but he pressed forward. He searched the tall grass with his rifle held in front of him, his palms sweaty. The roar of one of the big cats was in the distance; a leopard probably. Sometimes he’d hear the hollering of baboons but they were rare.

“Sandra!” he yelled out against his better judgment. He wasn’t exactly certain that he expected a response.

Thomas stopped underneath a large tree and sat down, exhaustion weakening his legs and making his feet ache. The moon was full and shone brightly in the night sky. It reminded him of his drunken days in Africa. Watching the full moon through the jungle canopy, unsure what day it was and not really caring.

He rose and continued his search.

There was little in the Indian night that could surprise him any longer. He knew the calls of every animal out here. But truth be told, he was taken aback by the creature he’d killed yesterday. He’d heard rumors from the tribesmen for years about giant hyenas that stole children in the night, but how could one believe in such stories?

As he made his way through the grass he became acutely aware that something else was in here with him. Whenever he’d move forward, he’d hear the grass behind him parting.

He took a few steps forward and heard the sound again. Thomas took a deep breath and dropped to one knee, spinning around with the rifle held in front of him. But the grass was empty. The wind rustling through a few of the taller strands.