Salticidae (24 page)

B
eyond Banga, in the distance over his shoulder, Jack saw something even more magical than giant spiders, something that gave him a spark of hope.

A Jeep was coming their way. And Jack knew, as did everyone in the DRC, that where there w
as a Jeep in the jungle, there were men with guns. It was the only salvation they had, and right now he was prepared to take it.

If he could last long enough for it to arrive.

He turned to the two spiders advancing on him, gauged their speed somewhere in the thirty to forty mile per hour range, knew that he could not outrun them. Derek yanked him back, yelled, “Let’s go!” but knew they were as good as dead.

He p
rayed for a miracle.

“Jack! C’mon!”

It came from the river. A crocodile cut the surface of the water, enough to cause a splash, its tail snaking along the surface before going under again. The movement drew the spiders, triggered their innate need to hunt. The two spiders spun and jumped at the ripples in the river, splashing beneath the water, both coming up with the croc in their legs as the animal went into a death roll trying to free itself. With a rapid tear, the crocodile split in two, blood erupting like a fountain and bones cartwheeling through the air, the spiders sinking their fangs into either end of the animal.

“Head for the Jeep,” Jack said.

“What Jeep?” Derek’s eyes were still locked on the treetops where more spiders were swimming out of the greenery. The two spiders in the river were huddled over their prey, devouring it. Finally he saw it. “That Jeep? Great. Ten bucks says those guys are deadlier than these bugs.”

“At least they won’t eat us alive.”

“If it is a ranger, no,” said Banga. “If it is the rebels, they may, yes.”

“Fuck it,” Derek said, turning to run. “I’ll take my chances with the gunmen.”

They all ran.

Beside them, the trees continued to shake as the massive spiders leapt from branch to branch.

***

From the top of the mountain, Shumba looked down to the river below and watched in horror as the spiders crashed through everything in their path, chasing somebody just inside the treeline.

A ways up the river from this
, three men—two white and one black—raced up the river’s edge, spiders jumping from tree to tree and scampering with blurred legs over the muddy ground beside them, hot on their heels.

Across the river, in an open field often used by
the men with cameras to watch the hippos, a Jeep was slowing down. The man in the front seat wore a beret and a vest with military insignia on it. Shumba knew the insignia was meaningless to anyone outside of the man’s own followers. Behind the Jeep was a pickup truck full of young boys with guns.

“
Father, there is a war starting down there.”

Musa drew close to his son, laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Yes, and the numbers lay in favor of the devils.
I did not know there were going to be so many, but I have come to help where I can so I am pushing on.”

One of the other
tribesmen, Ota, approached. His frame was thin and the walk had clearly exhausted him. “Us against all of that? We should have turned back already. We are not equipped to fight this army of demons. We’ll die.”

Musa’s voice grew deep and gruff, commanding attention
. “Together, we can help, but not from up here. If you want to leave you may, but be warned that these things will find our families in a few days time, maybe sooner. Here they are in large numbers, and we can thin them out, maybe get them all if we can attract them further. Out in the open, there in that grassy field by the river, they have no means of hiding. There are no trees or boulders from which to ambush anyone. The men in the Jeeps have guns, which gives our kind an advantage.”

Shumba squinted, studied the scene below him more intently.
“The men with the guns…I do not want to help them.”

“
I understand. Being eaten by the demons is a better fate for them. But the white men, and whoever is in those trees, they need our help. Our families and friends will need our help next. Something has drawn the devils out of their hiding to this spot so here is where we will meet them.”

“
The noise,” Shumba said, “the sound of the Jeep, the loud bang we heard, the yelling. They are attracted to this. These beasts are braver than we thought. But it is not their nature to be so bold.”

“
Who is to judge their nature now, when they are this big and aware of their strength? The little ones, they hide and attack as a surprise, but like the hippo, these have grown confident and mean over time.”

Ota
ran his thumb up his machete’s blade. “Is there a plan?”

Musa looked down. “
Just to win. It’s too far to jump. We will have to climb down.”

“That leaves us open to attack. We cannot climb fast enough to evade monsters that can
climb
anything
.”

“Then let us hope they do not see us. Come, Shumba, I want to talk to you.”
Musa led Shumba into the shade of a nearby tree and put his hand on the boy’s head. “You look more like your mother every day. I see her in your eyes, and I see you in hers. I see your shoulders getting bigger and your legs thicker, and I sometimes cannot remember how little you were when you first came into my world. You are quite the young man, and I am proud of you.”

“Father, I—”

“Hush. Please just listen to me. I love you very much, but now is the time for us to part ways as a father and son, and become warriors together. Part of me regrets bringing you on this walk, but part of me knows it needs to be done. My father did not have such a task as this, nor his father, but my father did guide me across the threshold of manhood in his own way, through hard work in the jungle chopping trees and building huts. He taught me how to kill the man-eaters in the river, and how to fight another man with my bare hands. These I thought I would teach to you someday, but life has given us a more deadly challenge.”

“I told you I am a man. This is my land, too. I will fight for it.”

“I know you will, and I am proud to hear you speak with such excitement. But I am still your father right now, so I give you this choice once, now, here, to stay up here out of harm’s way.”

“
I refuse to stay and that is my final thought.”

“I knew it would be so.” Musa smiled, yet he could not hide his fear that what he was about to allow could mean the end of his family. “
I love you, son. Remember that.”

“I love you too, father. I will never forget it.”

Shumba raised his machete and he and Musa clanged their weapons together. “This is our land. We must take it back.”

They returned to the edge of the mountain where the other men awaited. None of them looked resigned
or fearful anymore, rather steeled for victory. Musa knew he could count on them to fight for all they were worth, even Ota.

“When we reach the bottom,”
Musa said, “we must kill every last one of the demons, or else they will live another day and find us again. Should any man fall…we will remember what happens here today for generations to come. My friends, let us hunt the hunters.”

Shumba took the first step over the edge of the mountain, holding on to roots and
thick grass as he found a foothold on the rocky cliff. He began to lower himself, grinning.

***

The Jeep bounced over the grassy terrain alongside the river. From the passenger seat, the Skeleton Man took in the empty river, void of wildlife. Where had the hippos gone? They had always been here for many years, lording over this section of the jungle.

The driver read his thoughts. “No hippos, sir.”

“I can see that. It is a bad bad omen, this one. Stop the Jeep.”

The
driver slowed down. The truck behind them followed suit, its engine rumbling and coughing in the tall razor grass.

The Skeleton Man rose
, removed his custom gold-plated .45 from his shoulder holster. He’d taken the gun off of a drug smuggler a few years ago who had failed to grease his palms, caught the man shuttling opiates out from the jungle. This was his jungle, and you did not take from it without permission or payment. He’d ensured the man would never make that mistake again. The gun was supremely accurate, could take the back of a man’s skull out at one hundred yards. He’s kept it well oiled and free of scratches and cherished it like a child.

Where had the hippos gone? Why were
n’t the bugs and birds singing? It was too silent here.

He squinted, studied the trees. Dark shadows moved in the canopy around the river, something sinister he could not place.

“Do you hear that?” the driver asked. The man was looking more nervous now, a bit twitchy.

The Skeleton Man heard voices, yelling, the constant sound of branches breaking as if something large were trying to climb to the treetops.

The yelling grew louder. Closer.

“What is
that!” The driver stood up and withdrew his own gun, aimed it before him.

From a
round the crook in the river ahead came massive black and brown beasts with eight legs and bulbous eyes, careening through the jungle, zipping over anything in their path. White ribbons stretched behind them as they leapt from treetop to treetop.

Before The Skeleton Man could speak things got even stranger.

To his right, across the river, a white woman and a muscular Congolese man burst from the treeline and dove into the water. Behind them, two of the giant creatures belly-flopped into the water after them, struggling to get footing.

A few hundred yards behind all of this
, on the same side, two white men and a pygmy were running for all they were worth, hunted closely by a collection of high speed creatures scuttling over each other in blind pursuit of their meals.

“What are they!” The driver was shaking.
“Look, they are everywhere!”

Before The Skeleton Man
could order his men to target the creatures, or anything else moving for that matter, gunshots cracked from the truck behind him. Hundreds of Kalashnikov rounds suddenly whizzed by his head but he did not move. For he was blessed by God, immortal, and was destined to rule long and hard like the mighty hippos. No bullet would take him. He sneered, watching as the strange, fast creatures advanced on them, studying their lifeless eyes and strident camouflage patterns.

Spiders, he realized.
Giant spiders coughed up by someone strong in black magic to test the Skeleton Man’s willingness to protect what was rightfully his. This land. His land. This was black arts like he had never known before, no doubt conjured by the same mysterious enemy who’d recently been killing his men. His anger and need for revenge grew with such temerity he could taste blood on his tongue.

You are the Skeleton Man, he chided himself. This is your jungle. You are the true man of magic here. Take it back.

With a roar, he opened fire.

***

Janet swam for all she was worth, the muscles in her arms alight with an inner fire. Her chest blazed with white hot pain with every stroke, and though she could see the other side just a few feet away, she knew they’d never make it.

Gellis cut water beside her,
on his back, trying to keep the backpack above him, his frame like an alligator in the river. He was moving in time with her, protecting her as best he could.

She could hear the spiders splashing behind them, could smell their pungent pheromones.
So close to the riverbank, she thought. Just a few more feet.

Her knees hit the bottom, her hands dug
into the mud. She hauled herself up, turned in time to see a spider splayed in the air right in front of her. Its hairy silhouette blocked out the sun.

She screamed.

A volley of bullets hit the beast dead center in its cephalothorax, blood spraying her in the face. The spider flinched and curled up as it barreled into her, knocked her down, and continued rolling over her.

She was up in a flash,
on the edge of losing her mind, the spider continuing its death curl before her. Beside her, Gellis was climbing out of the water, gripping the backpack, the second spider just now finding its footing in the shallows.

“Look out!” she yelled.

Gellis dropped to his knees, covered his head. Behind him the spider caught several large rounds in the eyes and fell unmoving to the bank.

Gellis
rose, grabbed her, shook her. “You’re okay. You’re okay. We have to move.”

Janet found her wits, snapped her head to clear her vision.
“Run for the Jeep,” she said.

Gellis grimaced
; he knew what would await them at the Jeep, but it was their only hope now.

A
barrage of bullets sailed by on either side as they ran, coming from the two vehicles before them. They didn’t dare look back; the sound of bullets punching holes in spiders was testament to the fact that more had come out of the jungle for the hunt.