The Greystoke Legacy (22 page)

“This is not over!” snapped Robbie. He tugged his chains. “We can get out of here—and Jane's not dead! I saw her taken right in front of me!” The chain didn't give and Robbie knelt down to examine the lock. It was old and took a single key. He rooted in his pocket for the knife, but it must have fallen out.

A blast of fresher air swept into the room as Bapoto opened the door and stepped in, his kukri in one hand.

“General Tafari wants to speak to you.” He jabbed the kukri toward Archie and Robbie. “You, you—up.” Archie reluctantly stood, as did Robbie. Bapoto rounded on him. “Ah, the cripple walks again, eh?” The thug pressed the blade against Robbie's cheek. “And don't think I've forgotten you.”

Bapoto sniggered and pulled a single key from his belt and unlocked both Robbie and Archie. He didn't seem concerned about them running away. In fact, they were so weak and tired they could barely walk. Robbie was forced to use Archie as a crutch.

Bapoto slid a heavy wooden spar across the metal door to lock it, then shoved Archie toward the main buildings. Robbie tried to notice everything around him. The camp was twice the size of Karibu Mji and had been on the same location for some time. Their prison stood on the west side, away from the main complex. Opposite, fuel drums were stacked next to the gasoline generator. The main buildings sat to the north of the clearing and consisted of fourteen lodges standing at the side of a river. The largest looked to be a barracks with many opened windows covered with mosquito netting. A large mess pavilion had no walls, just a roof to protect it from the sun and rain. Robbie guessed the other buildings were a kitchen and various storage sheds. A single wooden guard tower stood at the edge of the clearing, a machine gun bolted to the platform above. A truck and four jeeps were parked behind the barracks in a small area that served as a parking lot and had a single­ dirt track leading out. There was no fence; evidently Tafari was not concerned about his prisoners escaping. With the thick jungle around them, he didn't need to worry.

Two large dogs were tied to a post, slumbering in the afternoon sun. One growled and pricked its ears when they passed. Robbie couldn't help but notice the scattering of bones around the animals. Bapoto led them to a large picturesque cabin that looked completely out of place. Robbie thought it resembled a vacation home.

Tafari sat on the porch in a rocking chair, smoking his usual vile cigar. Through the windows behind, Robbie saw walls bedecked with stuffed animal heads. A pair of gorillas and several chimpanzees stood out from amongst the big cats.

“You vex me,” said Tafari standing as they approached. He tapped his head. “I have been thinking of why you would bite the king of the jungle—the hand that feeds you. It is impossible to overthrow me.”

“How many times does it take to get through to your fat head? We thought
you
were attacking
us
,” snarled Archie. Impending death had done wonders to improve his confidence, and imagining Jane dead somewhere in the jungle fueled his anger. “I came to complain and all you did was drive your percentages up like the petty crook you are.”

Tafari stepped from the porch and flashed his perfect white teeth. “I remember you came to scout my village. Maybe see if we had weaknesses?”

Now Robbie saw the paranoid gleam in Tafari's eyes. “Tarzan is the one you want. You know he's out there, the jungle spirit, White Ape, whatever—call him what you want.” Robbie jerked a thumb at Bapoto. “This goon saw him!”

Robbie felt a sharp blow hit his ear. It came from Bapoto.

“I saw nothing!” snarled the big man. “The girl snatched a gun and killed three men before we shot her.”

Robbie was incredulous; Bapoto was covering up the truth to protect himself from his boss's wrath. Robbie suspected Tafari wouldn't hesitate inflicting a punishment on his second-in-command for such a terrible blunder. Robbie hoped he could use that to his advantage.

He pleaded with Tafari. “He's lying! Tarzan rescued Jane and killed your men. Do you really think a young girl could overpower one of you guys and then shoot three people?” He saw a flicker of doubt cross Tafari's face. He tried to capitalize on it. “Tarzan is the problem, General. Not us. Jane is still alive and with him. We make a good income together, why would we jeopardize that? If we work together—”

Bapoto grabbed Robbie around the scruff of his neck and shook him violently. Robbie's leg gave out and he floundered into the brute, almost tripping him.

“Enough!” snapped Tafari, raising a hand. He studied Archie and then grabbed his jaw and twisted him to face Robbie. “You see this face is a man grieving for the loss of his daughter. A loss you caused trying to escape. This is not a face that believes in your Tarzan. And if he don't believe it, why should I?”

Tafari gestured for Bapoto to make Robbie stand. Bapoto twisted Robbie's hands behind his back and forced him upright. Tafari ripped Robbie's shirt open, revealing his chest, and blew smoke into his face.

“I have ways of getting the truth out of people.” Tafari's voice was smooth and casual. He took the cigar out of his mouth and held it close to Robbie's chest. Robbie flinched as he felt the intense heat. Tafari smiled amiably. “So, let us talk the truth.”

•••

There had been scarcely time to rest as Tarzan spoke to Kerchak. Jane knew “speak” was not strictly correct but she remained fascinated by the way they were able to grunt and bark in what seemed like communication. She sat away from the massacre and plucked green shoots from the farthest branches she could reach to feed Karnath, who stayed close by her side. In turn, the little ape darted up the tallest trees and returned with fruits that Jane gratefully ate.

Despite the urgency of the situation, she wanted to tell Tarzan what she had discovered about his past, but the ape-man didn't give her a chance. She retrieved the photo frame from the aircraft, removing the picture so she could fold it in her pocket.

Tarzan beckoned her over as the heavy mist parted and they were suddenly away to the trees with speed and purpose. She was now so used to their unusual mode of travel that she quickly realized they were traveling in a direction she had not been before.

Tarzan's pace was unforgiving, but even he was forced to the ground to rest and drink from the river. Jane watched as he bent low into the water and sipped. She cupped the clear liquid in her hands, most of which dribbled out by the time it reached her lips. It was cool and refreshing.

“Where are we going?” she finally had the chance to ask, hoping to hear the name of a familiar city.

“Numa.”

Jane frowned. “I don't know what that means. We need to save my father and time is running out!”

“Numa will help.”

“How?” Jane was feeling frustrated and didn't see any logic to Tarzan's plan. “Isn't family important to you? Don't you ever wonder who your parents were?”

“Tarzan's mother was Kala.”

“No, she wasn't!” Tarzan looked surprised. Jane unfolded the picture and showed it to him. “These are your parents! That's your mother. They were on that plane when it crashed. They must have survived out here till after you were born. Do you remember any of that?”

Tarzan's brow furrowed as he processed the information. Jane knew he was intelligent, but had no idea how much of what she was saying was understood.

“Your parents were Lord and Lady Greystoke, from England. You are a lord, a very rich lord.” She hadn't searched for articles about the current Greystoke's estate and the realization that this savage demon was in fact a posh English nobleman made her laugh. “You have a family, a
human
family who think you are dead. Doesn't that mean anything to you? My father is my only family. Robbie is my only friend here, besides you.”

She slouched, tired of rambling. She was surprised when Tarzan lifted her chin and spoke softly. “Numa will help.”

They were soon moving again, descending the opposite side of the mountain at great speed. Rainforest slowly transformed into a less dense forest. During their descent, Jane glimpsed a vast grassland through the trees, hemmed in by jungle-clad mountains. That was their destination.

Tarzan finally stopped on a rocky outcrop that poked over the forest as it petered out to dense grass that stood as high as Jane's shoulders. The view was magical. Fine motes caught in the morning sun and the grass swayed in waves as the gentle breeze caught it. Tarzan let Jane down, then bellowed a challenge.

His voice echoed across the valley.

Jane heard a familiar roar. She watched the grass sway as an animal approached. What she had presumed was one beast suddenly split into three as they spread out on their approach. Jane kept her nerve but was thankful Tarzan stood between her and the lionesses that emerged from the buffalo grass. The lead cat was unmistakable and Jane would have recognized her without the nick in her ear. It was Sabor.

Sabor snarled when she sighted her enemy. The other cats fanned out, and Jane noticed one was limping. They were the same pride that had attacked the gorillas. Why on earth was Tarzan bringing them here?

Tarzan leapt from the rock—and landed squarely in front of Sabor. He snarled a challenge and Sabor shrank back, ears flattened and tail quivering. It was clear who was master. Tarzan cocked his head to indicate that Jane should join him. Her legs trembled as she stepped down amongst the same predators that had been trying to eat her just a few nights earlier.

She kept close to Tarzan as he confidently strode through the grass. He was following Sabor, the limping lioness behind and the other at their flank. It occurred to Jane that the felines had them surrounded, though they made no move to attack.

Jane wanted to ask a hundred questions but knew the futility of seeking answers from Tarzan. Whatever power he held over these beasts, they begrudgingly respected him.

Parting grass revealed yet more grass ahead and Jane was becoming disoriented. They walked for several minutes before the long grass finally gave way and they stepped into a large clearing. Jane pressed closer to Tarzan, more terrified than she had ever been in her life.

Over a dozen lions lay on a large polished boulder, basking in the morning sun. Many were females, but Jane saw the shaggy dark manes of male lions that were rolling on their backs, paws in the air like common household cats. Jane would have considered the image cute if not for the dead wildebeest they had been feasting on. Most of the gnu had been devoured and was little more than bones with flies buzzing around them. Vultures sat at the edge of the clearing, waiting for their chance to feast. The lions' muzzles and paws were stained red, which gave them a grisly look. All eyes were fixed on the humans.

Sitting at the top of the boulder was a male lion, almost twice as big as the others. Its mane was voluminous and tinged with dark brown streaks. Its body and face were heavily scarred, medals of battles won. Its huge paws were stretched out and it yawned lazily, then sat to attention when it saw Tarzan. Jane knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was Numa.

A deep rumble built in the beast's throat. It was so bass-heavy that Jane could feel her ribs shaking. She dreaded to think what this behemoth thought of the two snacks that had dared enter its domain. Surely Tarzan wasn't thinking of fighting it?

Numa leapt from the boulder with a mighty thud and slowly approached them. Tarzan didn't move and Jane was convinced she was unable to. There was no way she could outrun a pride of lions.

The big cat paced closer . . . then, to her utter astonishment, Numa rubbed his great head against Tarzan's side and issued a guttural purr. Tarzan scratched the cat's head as if they were old friends.

Tarzan looked at Jane with a smile and she felt hope swell.

“Numa will help,” assured Tarzan.

D
arkness had fallen and Robbie hadn't stirred since they had been thrown back into the prison hut. Archie had pleaded for Tafari not to hurt them, but that had only resulted in a sadistic beating from the thug. Archie's hand was now swollen and he suspected he had several broken bones, but he had still fared better than Robbie.

All the prisoners were weak and hungry although Tafari had supplied water. He evidently planned to keep them alive a little while longer. With their shackles inhibiting movement, only Esmée could get close to Robbie. She was shocked at the ugly burns Tafari had inflicted. Robbie's broken ankle had also been pummeled as a torture.

“They are evil, evil men,” she cursed as she bathed Robbie's forehead with the last of her water. The only illumination came from slivers of moonlight cast through gaps in the crooked wall panels.

“He's mad,” said Archie. “Convinced we were planning to overthrow him.”

“Do we look like insurgents?” croaked Clark. He had gained consciousness only to hear Robbie howling from the pains of his torture. His leg was bleeding from the numerous times he had tried to break his shackle to reach Robbie.

“To him we do,” Archie croaked back.

No one else spoke a word, there was little point. The sound of Tafari's men laughing and joking drifted in as the guerrillas ate their evening meal. Static-laced music played from a radio.

What a new life they could have had, thought Archie. In three years he could have earned a lifetime's salary compared with back home. It was a big commitment in such an unpleasant environment, but he had always assumed that he would have plenty of time to convince Jane of the long-term benefits. He had been determined that she should not struggle later on in life. He sighed deeply and his ribs hurt; he suspected two of them must have broken under Tafari's mindless abuse.

Thinking about Jane hurt him to the core. There were many things he would have done differently, but the past was irreversible. He must be a terrible father for bringing her out here, and he didn't blame her for hating him. He hated himself.