The Greystoke Legacy (12 page)

Crouching low, Tarzan circled the beast. An inhuman guttural snarl issued from Tarzan's bloodied lips. Terkoz looked unsteady on his feet; Tarzan's bites and gouges were having an effect.

Jane was mesmerized by the struggle as the combatants circled. Tarzan's hand went for the dagger on his hip, but he hesitated to unsheathe it. That would be an unfair fight.

Terkoz swung a chunky fist—which Tarzan easily ducked. Another blow was evaded and the ape was becoming frustrated as they circled again. Terkoz suddenly rushed Tarzan, catching him unprepared.

Jagged teeth bit into Tarzan's arm. He snarled and rolled aside, springing lithely to his feet. Blood spurted from the wound, but Tarzan didn't give it anything more than a cursory glance. He appeared to be enjoying the fight.

Terkoz charged again and Tarzan fell on his back. Jane shrieked in fear as the silverback bore down on him.

But Tarzan had a plan. His feet kicked into Terkoz's stomach as his hand tugged the ape's arm, forcing the brute off-balance. Tarzan used the leverage to toss the heavy gorilla over him and the goliath crashed headfirst into the earth. Tarzan used a handspring to flip to his feet, then delivered a powerful kick to the animal's flank, thrusting Terkoz on his back.

Jane was taken aback by the combination of skill and savage strength used in the fight. She watched as Tarzan uncoiled the rope from his belt and formed a noose. Tarzan circled victoriously around Terkoz and swung the noose menacingly.

The brute was down, but refused to submit. Tarzan cockily approached and Terkoz sat up and made a swing for him—

Tarzan had expected the jab and looped the noose around Terkoz's forearm, then somersaulted over the confused gorilla. Before Terkoz could turn to follow, Tarzan tugged the rope with all his might and Terkoz's fist slammed into his own face, forcing him to collapse in a complete daze.

The other gorillas in the glade knew the fight was over and hooted their approval. Tarzan shook the rope free and placed one foot on Terkoz's chest in an undeniable act of victory. The silverback snarled, but was too beaten to stop him. Tarzan raised his head to the sky and roared.

The hairs on the back of Jane's neck stood up; the gorillas around her lapsed into silence and birds in the surrounding trees took flight.

Satisfied that all in the band accepted his dominance, Tarzan crossed to Jane and helped her stand. She was shaking, partly from the fight but mostly because Tarzan now looked every bit the killer. Terkoz's blood stained Tarzan's mouth and cheeks, and his own wound was freely bleeding. But his eyes twinkled with life. The fight had not fazed him in the least. The nearest blackback kept its distance from Tarzan, and coughed to acknowledge they had no quarrel.

“You almost killed a gorilla!” Jane exclaimed. “With your bare hands!”

Tarzan shook his head. He looked offended. “Tarzan not kill Terkoz.”

Jane glanced at the big silverback. He sat upright, swaying slightly. A female crossed to him and gently touched the wounds on his head.

“But Tarzan won.” He looked at Jane with concern. “You need rest.”

Jane pointed to his wound and winced. A flap of skin hung open, revealing the raw flesh beneath. “You need stitches on that.”

Tarzan glanced at the wound with indifference. He led Jane from the glade, the band of gorillas parting from their path. Once again, Tarzan had proved who ruled the jungle.

•••

Archie hunkered down as the shots rang out. His first thought was that Serge, who carried a gun, was using it to force them into going back to Karibu Mji as he been insisting on doing, instead of trampling through the jungle without any supplies.

Then Archie saw Bapoto stride from the bamboo, the AK-47 jauntily angled on his hip. The two men instantly recognized one another. Tafari's right-hand man usually did the dirty work.

“Bapoto, it's me, Archie Porter.” Archie stood, keeping his hands up.

Bapoto laughed in surprise. “Just the man I was looking for,
ami
. How God smiles on me to bring us together in this hellhole.”

Rain began to patter around them and Bapoto gestured to the sky as if it emphasized his point.

“You were looking for us?” That was a disturbing thought. Of course, that must mean they had Jane. “I want my daughter back.”

Bapoto's confident smile vanished. “Daughter?”

Archie had been careful not to divulge too much about life at their camp. He had always known it was dangerous to mention he had brought his family. “The girl you took is my daughter. She's done nothing wrong.”

Other rebels emerged from the trees, their weapons aimed at Archie's group. Bapoto slid down the ravine and approached them.

“I don't know what you're talking about, but I can guess why you're here, eh? Planning another attack on our barracks?” He threw the rifle over his shoulder and drew his beloved kukri from his belt. The blade was stained from numerous battles and he found it far more intimidating than a gun.

It was Archie's turn to be puzzled, his eyes darting to the blade. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Oh, course not,” Bapoto sneered, idly waving the knife. “Why else would you be out here? Tafari sent me to give you a little message. On your knees.”

Archie hesitated. “My daughter's missing—”

Bapoto suddenly kicked Archie's legs from under him. Archie landed on his back, hard enough to wind him.

“That's better,” cooed Bapoto menacingly. He circled Archie, keeping one eye on the other loggers. “You damaged our vehicles and cut our power. Tafari wants to know why you would do this. He wants to know who you are working for.”

From the trees Robbie watched with a growing sense of panic. It was obvious that a third party was causing the trouble, but it looked like Bapoto was determined to shed blood over it. What could he do against seven armed men?

“There's been some mistake,” said Archie. He kept his voice calm and reasonable, but inside he was terrified. “We thought you had attacked us and kidnapped my daughter. That's why we came to find you. I want my daughter back right now!”

Bapoto wasn't listening; he was enjoying his power trip too much. He swished the knife menacingly. “What will it be? A hand? Leg? Or maybe one of your men?” He pointed his rifle at Anil. “I don't care which.”

“There's been a mistake!”

“And you made it.” He gently rested the sharp blade under Archie's chin. “Now decide.”

Anil leapt to his feet and tried to make a run for it.

BAM! A gunshot rang out and Anil fell to the ground, blood smattering his back.

Everybody looked around in shock. Oudry had fired; his rifle was still pointed at the dead man. Bapoto laughed heartily as he looked at the terror on Archie's face.

A metallic click suddenly echoed across the ravine, and Oudry felt cold steel pressed against his temple.

“Drop the guns,” yelled Robbie.

Bapoto spun around in surprise as Robbie appeared from the bamboo. His disheveled appearance was perfect camouflage in the jungle. He held his revolver firmly against the rebel's head. He just hoped nobody could see how much he was shaking.

Archie used the distraction to snatch the AK-47 from Bapoto's shoulder and jabbed it in his ribs.

“The knife,” prompted Archie.

Bapoto didn't drop the blade, instead he slid it back in his belt. With a snarl, Archie cracked him across the back of the head with the rifle's stock and Bapoto dropped to his knees.

“You're surrounded,” yelled Robbie. “We've been following you for some time.” He was running on adrenalin and had no idea if his ploy would work. “Throw your weapons down.”

Bapoto scowled. His own paranoia was enough to convince him Robbie was telling the truth. “Do as he says!” he commanded his men.

Oudry was the first to drop his gun, then the other rebels reluctantly followed and raised their hands. That was the cue for Clark, Mister David, and Serge to retrieve the weapons and hold the rebels at gunpoint. Robbie jumped down the ravine to join Clark.

“You OK?” hissed Clark.

“Fine.”

Archie prodded Bapoto with the gun barrel. “Up. Now I have no idea what you imagine we've done, but we're not your enemies.”

Robbie spoke up. “They don't have Jane.”

Archie looked quizzically at him. “Where is she?”

“I don't know. But they don't have her.”

Archie blinked in surprise. He didn't know what to say. If the rebels didn't have her then she must be lost. His heart sank. That meant finding her would be almost impossible especially after wasting over twenty-four hours on this wild goose chase.

Clark spoke up and nudged Bapoto. “You boys better scram before someone gets an itchy trigger finger and seeks revenge for our friend there.” He nodded toward Anil.

The rebels slowly retreated into the jungle, keeping their hands in clear view. Bapoto stared malevolently at Archie.

“I'll see you soon,” he muttered. “
J'aurai ta peau!
”

“We're not your enemy,” Archie said. “Somebody attacked our camp too and took my daughter.”

Bapoto made it to the edge of the bamboo and lowered his hands, his snake-like gaze on Archie. “Today you made a powerful enemy.”

Archie felt a chill down his spine. When they'd gone, Mister David rushed to check on Anil. He was clearly dead.

“We must bury him here,” he said softly. “We can't take him back.”

Robbie looked at Anil and felt a deep sadness. They'd shared many jokes around the campfire and now Anil was dead because of his impulsive desire to look for Jane.

Archie laid a hand on Robbie's shoulder. “That was a brave thing you did, Robert.”

Robbie held up the gun and flipped open the cylinders. They were empty.

“No bullets.”

“Then you're even braver. Any coward can carry a gun.”

“And any fool can go hurtlin' through the bush on his own and almost get himself killed!” said Clark. Now that Robbie had been found, his relief had transformed into anger. “Anil would still be alive if we hadn't come tearin' through here lookin' for you!”

“I did it because nobody was looking for Jane!” Robbie wasn't about to be used as a scapegoat, even if Clark was echoing his own thoughts.

“We had a plan! You shouldn't have bucked off like that!”

“We would have probably come this way anyway, and Anil would still have been killed,” said Archie calmly. Clark spluttered, not expecting his mate to back Robbie up. “And we could have all been shot if it wasn't for Robbie.”

Clark snatched the pistol from Robbie but didn't say a word. Robbie couldn't take his eyes off the dead man.

Archie recognized the guilt on Robbie face and felt sorry for him. “What did you find out about Jane?”

“Just what Bapoto said. They have had attacks on their base, just like us. They were looking for you because they thought you were responsible. Not because they took Jane.”

“So she really is lost.” Archie was silent for a moment as the darkest thoughts crept into his imagination. Then, the words that he had dared think but had feared to say out loud tumbled from his lips: “C-could she be . . . dead?”

Robbie knew that couldn't be true. Fate couldn't be so cruel.

“No, she's not. She isn't lost. She's with whoever attacked both camps. Find them and we find Jane.”

Robbie watched as a glimmer of hope lit Archie's face. Nothing further needed to be said. It was time they dug a shallow grave for their fallen comrade.

•••

Jane thought she was dying. She recalled walking from the glade, then her legs gave way and she spiraled into a never-ending pit of darkness . . . only to wake up back in the aircraft fuselage. The rain clouds had blown away, revealing a vivid blue sky. Birds flittered in the twisted roots and creepers that clung to the aircraft, the occasional frond poking through a smashed window.

She sat upright—and immediately provoked a hoot from Tana, who had been watching over her. Karnath had lain against Jane's side, keeping her warm, and now he hooted with excitement. Tarzan came running in moments later, holding a large fruit husk that contained water. He put it to her lips.

“Drink.”

Jane drank the water, grimacing at its odd taste. Tarzan followed it up with a piece of thin bark.

“Eat.”

“This? It's a piece of a tree.” She examined the bark closely; it had an acrid smell and inside was sticky sap. “I can't eat that.”

Tarzan thrust the bark into her mouth and then covered it with his hand so she couldn't spit it out. “Eat!”

Jane felt the familiar tremble of fear. Tarzan could switch between gentle and fierce as quickly as the wind. She chewed the bark and found it had a sour taste but wasn't unpleasant. When she swallowed, Tarzan removed his hand, looking satisfied.

“What was that?”

“Medicine.”

“I need real medicine. I need to go home.” She noticed that her leg wound had been cleaned again even though the bite in Tarzan's shoulder was still untreated. He had elected to help her before himself. Once again, Jane's opinion of Tarzan seesawed as fast as his temper. “You're still hurt.”

Tarzan poked his wound but he didn't react. Instead he reached for a pile of small nuts and a tin stowed at the back of the aircraft. The tin looked old and sported the word “biscuits” in a swirling faded font. Tarzan sat next to Jane and opened it.

Army ants swarmed around inside. They were all large-headed soldiers, the biggest specimens Jane had ever seen. Tarzan selected one and slammed the lid back down. With two fingers he pinched his wound together and with the other he carefully pushed the ant's oversized head across the seam. Tarzan quickly twisted the body to snap the head off, leaving part of the wound sutured with the dead ant's jaws. Jane watched in fascination as Tarzan repeated the action a dozen times until the wound was fully closed, then he took a small nut and squeezed it hard, and an oily residue dripped into the wound. Task complete, Tarzan flexed his arm and looked happy with the results. Jane studied the tiny heads holding the wound closed. They looked like little beads . . .