The Traveler (17 page)

The slow wavelike motion of the earth originated north of him where the skies were black and red. Carl grimaced as the rolling sensation struck and he actually lost his balance as the earthquake shook the area. Mount Erebus was raising her skirt for the third time that day. The great volcano was spewing forth a noxious cloud of methane that seemingly rolled down its slopes and into the dying jungle around the base. The volcano was over a thousand miles away but the effects made it seem just out of view. In the three weeks Carl had been marooned he had calculated that the earth movement occurred far more frequently since the day he had arrived. He knew instinctually that Erebus was close to blowing. The fires caused by the eruptions had burned millions of acres of jungle and were driving the wildlife out of the area.

The earth movement slowed and then dissipated in its snakelike motion toward the east. He lowered his head at the soothing relief he felt when the ground beneath his feet ceased its movement. He knew he felt like all humans did when the only thing you ever trusted in the universe was the earth under your feet. When that was compromised you would lose faith in your abilities to stay alive. He lifted his head just as some very strange ratlike creatures scurried past his feet in flight. He shook his head knowing his clawed adversary was near. He had soon learned that every species of animal alive at this time had either very large teeth or equally large claws—and they used them with great advantage. He was but a puppy in a savage world never meant for mankind.

He sniffed the air and that was when he caught the scent of the animal as it crept closer. He cocked the nine millimeter and waited.

Suddenly the green foliage parted with a crash not thirty yards to his front. His eyes widened when he saw a large flock of chickenlike rocs as they broke cover. The eleven-foot-tall birds were flightless but made up for that deficiency with their strong legs and fierce claws and beaks. The very large rooster at the head of the charge swerved to the left, quickly followed by five others. Then a hen broke cover just as a loud and fierce scream of an animal Carl had yet to see in action chased a smaller roc that exited the jungle just behind its mother. This one was followed by a second youngling. This was a red-hooded rooster that was close to full grown. It swept quickly to the right to avoid something that crashed through the jungle just behind it. The rocs as a whole started their high-pitched screams as the terror was seen for the first time. The small, useless wings of the rooster flared as four giant claws struck out just as the beast broke cover as the flock reached safety on the far side of the small clearing only fifteen yards from where Carl huddled with his forgotten lunch. The claws raked the roc on its left flank and the bird went down. Before the roc could react and recover, the giant black panther was upon it. The cat was no less than seven hundred pounds and was the first of this species Carl had seen in his three weeks here. The panther's green emerald eyes flared with the brightness of the night stars as it placed its foreclaws on the injured bird and then screamed in triumph at its fallen prey.

For many days to come Everett could not figure out why he did what he did that day. For a reason that was now unfathomable he grew angry and decided that enough was enough. He was no longer going to allow the animal life of this screwed-up time to scare him to death. He stood and slowly stepped into the open.

“Get off of him!” he called out as he raised the nine millimeter and advanced.

The panther was taken by surprise and turned and screamed. The cry was so loud it made Carl squint and then wince as the angered cry shook the jungle around him. The smaller roc was trying desperately to gain its feet but the massive claws of the cat held it firmly in place as it spit its anger at the small man walking toward it. Everett saw the desperation in the roc's actions as it struggled and that struggle struck a chord with him. He felt he was once more doing his job, and that job was to stop the bad guys from winning. Not for the love of the aggressive giant chickens, but because he just didn't like the panther.

The black coat was thick and it shone within the confines of the darkened jungle with a luminescence that was surreal. The coat shimmered as the enormous muscles of the animal flexed and braced for a jump that would quickly carry it to this small threat coming at it.

“Come on, you son of a bitch. I'll dance with ya.”

The giant cat screamed as it used the smaller body of the roc as a springboard for launching itself at the man.

Carl saw the animal was far faster than he could ever have realized. It was airborne before he could bring the pistol into action. He actually felt the onrush of air as the beast launched. He tried to fire but quickly realized he would never get the weapon up fast enough. So much for being the new sheriff in town.

The injured roc used its long neck to twist with lightning speed just as the relief of weight was off of its feathered body. The large parrotlike beak shot forward and grabbed the cat's left hind leg just as it was free. The beast was halted in mid-jump and quickly twisted its large frame to turn and swipe at the downed roc. Everett saw the advantage that the young bird had given him. He raised the Glock and fired once, hitting the cat in the side of its head. Carl's eyes widened when he saw the panther flinch only momentarily as the round struck its skull and ricocheted off into the jungle. The cat didn't even scream. It just slowly turned its head to face Carl and hiss. It swiped one last time at the fallen roc, who relinquished its powerful beak after the claws slammed into its hard surface. The roc's head was slammed into the jungle floor where it went still. The cat shook free of the now limp roc and advanced on Everett.

Carl fired the second of his four rounds and the bullet struck the panther in the right front leg. This time the bullet lodged itself in the beefy part of the forearm but didn't slow the deliberate pace the panther kept to reach its antagonist. Its body went low to the ground in a stalking position. The rear legs bunched for a final jump. Carl fired again. This time the round hit the beast in the chest and the cat recoiled in pain but quickly recovered.

“Uh-oh,” Carl said as he knew he was down to the last bullet in the world and was afraid this one would be just as ineffective as the first three.

He aimed just as the panther sprang. The bullet hit the beast in the nose. This time there was a great spray of blood but he knew that the last bullet would not stop the great cat from its mission to shred him to pieces. The panther's teeth were a few inches from his throat when its forward momentum came to a crashing and bone-crunching stop. Carl hit the ground and then rolled away as the full bulk of the cat came crashing down. His eyes widened when he saw the beak of the large roc had been sunk deep into the panther's back, snapping its spine like a piece of brittle driftwood. The young rooster twisted its head until it felt the satisfying crunch of more bone and this time the cat, paralyzed, couldn't even scream. The roc actually dragged the large panther backward until it was satisfied that the animal could no longer do it harm. The enormous clawed feet of the bird were perched triumphantly upon the shiny coat of the black panther as it raised its bloody beak to the sky and flapped its small wings as it screamed to the heavens, informing whoever was up there that the young rooster had triumphed over the great cat.

Carl finally managed to slow his heart rate as he watched the scene before him. The young roc lowered its head and nudged the now dead panther with its newly battle-scarred beak. The wound to its body was bleeding but Carl knew the giant bird would not feel it for a while. He could see the youngling was in a mood that would last until its adrenal glands emptied.

Everett took a deep breath and then rolled onto his back and looked up at the ash-laden skies above the central plain of Antarctica. That was when a giant beak flared overhead and he was suddenly looking into the yellow eyes of the large rooster that had been leading the headlong flight of the flock. The roc hissed as it opened its beak to bite Carl's face off.

He heard the scream of the smaller rooster, and then the face and beak of the larger bird was knocked from view. Carl rolled until he was safely in the bush once again. He finally braved a look up and the sight froze him. The roc he had saved was standing over its fallen alpha male. The larger roc tried to stand but the smaller rooster had found some of its sand and angrily hissed at the patriarch of the flock. The large bird scrambled to its clawed feet and then hissed back, but Carl noticed its superior enthusiasm had vanished. With a last look at Everett, the large rooster broke and ran.

The smaller roc watched the quieting jungle for a moment and then its yellow eyes traveled to Carl. It turned its large red-feathered head to the side and examined the creature that had saved it from a horrid death. It slowly raised its small wings and flapped them three times. It continued to watch the human as it flicked its eyes left and right in its examination. Everett could see the slow drip of blood and thought that the wound was survivable. The three deeply etched claw marks on the left side of its beak bespoke of the power of the giant panther's needlelike claws.

With one last look at Everett, the future alpha male of the flock jumped into the bush and quickly vanished, but not before it hurriedly snatched Carl's prized rabbit from the ground.

“Hey!”

All he heard was the crashing of the large redheaded rooster as it made off with his lunch.

UPPER EAST SIDE OF MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

The knock sounded lightly upon the ornate double doors.

“Madam, I have news from Jerusalem.”

The clearing of her throat and then the eerie silence from the darkened room meant that his employer had indeed heard what he said. The man swallowed when the twin doors slowly opened. Before they swung completely open he saw the interior lights slowly fade as they were dimmed. He heard the motorized chair as it left the doorway. He stepped inside. He saw the still frame on the large-screen television of Clark Gable's backside as he left Atlanta for the last time in the film
Gone with the Wind.
He saw her as she motored around her desk, shutting down the film by remote control as she did. The desk lamp was off and he could only see the outline of darkness against the drawn shades. She was silent as he stepped into the large study and then turned and pulled the doors closed behind him. His employer was patient as she waited.

“I always stop the film at this spot anyway. I can never stand to hear Vivien Leigh say those damnable words, ‘After all, tomorrow is another day!' Such a foolish girl saying something some hack wrote in a book. Not very realistic by literary or even Hollywood standards.”

“Yes, Madam, very unrealistic,” the man said, facing her as he stood in front of the large desk. He saw her elegant hand reach for the ornate box on her desk and then she pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The smoke clouded the man's view even further. “Our contact in Jerusalem reports that the Mossad may have leaked your file to an outside source.”

There was silence as the woman in the darkness smoked and listened. He became uncomfortable during the drawn-out silence. Finally he could see her silhouette as she placed the cigarette in an ashtray.

“I thought we hadn't any more contacts in the government?”

“He reported out of loyalty, even though he has not been paid in over five years. He said he owed you for past services.”

“A kind euphemism for past bribes. Well, if it eases his conscience, who am I to argue?” Again she retrieved her cigarette and smoked.

“We haven't the contacts to pursue any intelligence on who received the file. We won't know who has it until someone comes knocking on the door.”

“The Mossad has little interest in me any longer. They couldn't get any information from me for seventy years, so perhaps they have contracted out for their intelligence gathering.”

“You know the Mossad doesn't contract out to anyone. I have been informed by that same asset that is so loyal to you that a General Shamni, head of the Israeli intelligence service, has been sacked by the prime minister. The rumor is he allowed an intelligence asset important to the state to flee the country.”

“Sounds like our little secret may have leaked out somehow. And all this time I thought they and others had forgotten about us.” She placed the cigarette down into the ashtray once more and then switched on the lamp that sat on the desk's polished top.

The man saw her clearly in the light. The ornate motorized wheelchair moved and she came from around her desk. She stopped in front of the tall man. Her hair was gray and came to her shoulders and she wore a black mourning dress as she always did. The sleeves were long and her hands were as elegant as ever. He avoided looking at the crooked legs that angled to the right as she sat in her chair. Her face was lined but in the beautiful softness few ladies of her age ever possess. She reached out and took his large hand into hers.

“Alert all of our children and tell them to be aware of busybodies looking for a story.” She patted his hand and looked into his brown eyes. He nodded as he knew they hadn't the funds to do anything outside of warning the family that they might have been discovered. They were helpless before the powers that had their information. He covered her petite hand with his own and then his eyes fell on the tattooed number on her white fleshy forearm where the sleeve failed to cover it. The tattoo had not faded with age: 674392. She smiled, removed her hand, and motored back to her desk and then smoked as she watched him. She slowly reached out and turned off the desk lamp. “I'm in the mood for a musical. All of this drama has drained me.”

“Yes, Madam,” he said as he started to turn away.

“Julien, tell the children not to be frightened by this. Remind them all they have been through worse.”

“I will, Madam,” he said as he opened the double doors and then left her study. He paused as he made sure the doors were closed as he heard the video player start once more. This time it sounded like Fred Astaire singing an opening number.