Savage Lands (14 page)

“Now that's impressive,” Robbie conceded.

“Opar …” said Idra breathlessly. “Legend says the Oparians worshipped the animals of the jungle.” She indicated to the panels between each step. They were covered in detailed hieroglyphs, depicting jungle scenes and fierce animals. The soil had preserved them with remarkable clarity. “They were said to be able to commune with the animals.”

“How do you know all this?” Jane suddenly asked suspiciously.

“Albert has been searching for this place his whole life. He met a man who had crawled from the jungle, barely alive, clutching an opal the size of his fist. He claimed to have escaped from here.” She looked sheepishly at Jane. “He was part of the missing anthropology expedition Reyna mentioned. As soon as she said that, we knew we were close to finding this place.”

Robbie switched on a flashlight and shone it into the depths of the entrance. “We're going in there?” he said anxiously.

“You're not claustrophobic are you?” Jane teased, although she was feeling less than bullish at the prospect herself. Robbie gave her a look that suggested he didn't want to find out.

The ground suddenly trembled. It was not as severe as earlier, but this close to the cone, the noise sounded more terrible than ever. It only lasted for seconds but it was enough to unnerve them all.

“Are you sure the Targarni took Clark in there?” Robbie asked, shining his light back in the cave. Tarzan nodded, and Robbie frowned. “Looks like something is moving—” He was cut off as thousands of bats suddenly blasted from the cave. The squeals and fluttering wings zipped past them all, forcing everybody to crouch, arms wrapped tightly over their heads.

Idra screamed, but Jane had enough presence of mind to keep it together. She found it incredible that not a single bat hit them, such were their navigational skills. The group looked up to see the sky had turned black as thousands of bats obscured the sun. With the broiling volcano so close, Jane wouldn't have been surprised to discover they had reached the end of the world.

“Let's get this over with,” said Robbie, trying to mask his anxiety. He took a deep breath, and led the group into the cave. Into the depths of Opar.

K
erchak rapidly led the band through the jungle, easily descending down steep grassy ravines that had Werper and Reyna slipping on their backsides as they ungracefully followed the apes. When they reached the river, the procession of apes continued onward without slowing. The two humans slowed the party down, but Werper walked ahead of Reyna now that she was fit enough to walk on her own. His thoughts went back to Opar and the dying man who had crawled from the jungle with incredible evidence of the lost city.

Werper had been trawling through a small village market on the off chance that something of archeological significance had made it out of the jungle. In the past he had been handed several intriguing trinkets that hinted at a lost civilization, discovered by poachers venturing deep into the bush. This time he heard tales of a dying westerner who had been saved by a nun and lived in a small Christian church on the edge of the village. Werper lied his way in to seeing the man, claiming to be a member of a search party looking for him.

The man was in a malarial daze as he wove his tale, even secretly sharing the opal, exquisitely embellished with a snake, that he'd found. Luckily for Werper, the nun had left for water so she did not see the exchange. He had precious seconds to decide what to do next. The man was unlikely to recover, and Werper couldn't afford anybody else hearing the stories… . So he pressed a pillow across the man's face. The man was too weak to struggle against the attack, and when the nun returned, Werper broke the sad news of the man's passing away.

Even with the new evidence, going to Lord Greystoke was the only viable option Werper had left. He had spoken to Greystoke's father on a number of occasions as he tried to obtain the geological survey of the area that Tarzan's parents had gathered. They had believed in the Opar legend too, and rumor had it that they'd found the site, but when Werper learned of their plane crash he concluded that angle was a lost cause.

However, his tales of treasure stayed with Greystoke, and when he inherited the title, Werper suddenly had access to the resources he needed. He was closer than ever to finally locating the civilization that would etch his name in the history books, and the wealth, which would wash away all his worries. All he needed were the Claytons' maps of the area.

Years ago, a Frenchman named D'Arnot had emerged from the wilderness saying he had found the rightful heir to Greystoke living in the jungle. Werper concluded that if a son had survived, then there must still be aircraft wreckage. The previous Lord Greystoke had publicly discredited D'Arnot, and the Frenchman vanished before Werper could question him.

When William Greystoke revealed that a group of loggers claimed to have found the aircraft, it was the last piece of the jigsaw Werper needed. It was as if fate had orchestrated events for him to find Opar so he could reveal it to the world. But now he was being forced to walk in the opposite direct after being so teasingly close to it.

Kerchak selected a shallow area of the river rapids to cross, and the Mangani followed in single file. Werper and Reyna were the last to cross. Reyna used a sturdy branch to help keep her balance on the slick rocks. Werper watched her carefully pick her route while the apes continued on ahead without waiting for them.

Werper looked longingly behind. He could just see the smoldering volcano teetering over the treetops—a beacon signifying his thwarted ambition. He glanced at Reyna, who wobbled as she fought to keep her balance in the fast-flowing river. He'd be damned if he was going to play babysitter and turn his back on his dreams. Without making a conscious decision, Werper turned back and scrambled up the slope. He heard Reyna shout his name, but he didn't care. He would reach Opar before nightfall; that's all that mattered.

• • •

I
dra
and Robbie used flashlights to light the way. Without them, the darkness would have been impossible to navigate as they descended a wide staircase that curved first one way, then the other.

Robbie occasionally cast the light across the walls, revealing long faded carvings, the grooves filled with moss and fungi. Every few yards there were peculiar circular structures, like archways, that looked like they were supporting the walls, but the tunnel was carved into solid rock and didn't need the support. From behind, it was Jane who realized what the structure was.

“It's a ribcage!” she exclaimed.

Robbie looked around, trying to find what Jane had spotted. “What?”

Jane ran her flashlight beam across the curving tunnel wall. “This. All of this. We're walking through the gullet of a giant snake. That's why it's winding so much.”

Now she had pointed it out, it became obvious.

“That is seriously weird,” said Robbie in a low voice. He was not enjoying the experience and already found the air cloying. “We should turn back.”

“No,” Tarzan said firmly. “We go on. Lights off.”

Robbie shook his head. “There's no way I'm walking blind through this.”

“No light,” snapped Tarzan impatiently.

Not wishing to upset the ape-man, the group complied and the passage was plunged into utter darkness.

Robbie laid on sarcasm in an attempt to calm his nerves. “This is a great improvement.”

“Stop,” Tarzan commanded.

Idra suddenly gasped. “It's beautiful!”

As Jane's eyes adjusted to the bioluminescence, the cave was suddenly, magically illuminated in shades of blue and green.

Robbie had to admit he was impressed. “Wow! It looks like the Milky Way.” He reached out. “I can almost touch it.”

The darkness heightened their other senses, and they all became aware of a faint rumble emanating from deeper down the tunnel.

“What is that?” whispered Jane, suddenly aware their own sounds would be amplified too.

“Sounds like water,” said Robbie. Then, just above that noise, something new, almost like faint voices. “But that's not …”

“Targarni,” snarled Tarzan. “Come.”

He took the lead as the tunnel opened up into a large cavern adorned with stalagmites and stalactites. The Targarni's recent passing had disturbed the path through them and over the narrow natural bridge that spanned the white-water river.

“There's no way you would get me on that,” said Jane firmly.

Robbie spotted something familiar discarded at the side of a large still pool. He crossed to pick it up.

“Stop!” Tarzan commanded, but Robbie had already knelt down to retrieve it.

“It's Clark's walking stick.” Robbie recognized the crutch Mr. David had carved. “They definitely came this way.”

“Robbie!” said Idra urgently as she snatched her rifle off her shoulder and pulled the bolt back, chambering a round in one fluid move. Robbie saw what she was aiming at—a large white mass swimming through the clear pool toward him. He'd been attacked by a crocodile before and suddenly realized his mistake. He dropped the stick and hastily retreated from the water's edge. To his relief, the creature didn't breach the water, but sank deeper, vanishing into the gloom.

“How can a croc live down here?” he asked with a tremor in his voice.

“That didn't look like a crocodile… .” said Jane.

“It can survive as long as there's food,” said Idra. “I met a guy once who swore he had seen crocs in the middle of the desert, living in an underground oasis.” She nodded to the torrent passing through the center of the cave.

“That doesn't sound real,” said Robbie.

Idra arched an eyebrow at him. “Really? Then you won't believe it if I told you there were sharks in the Congo River?” Robbie shook his head dismissively. “Bull sharks. They can survive in fresh water. They've even been found all the way up the Amazon. I saw them once.”

Jane didn't believe a word of it, and neither did Robbie, but the conversation had spooked him. “I don't want to hang around,” he said.

“Me neither,” Jane agreed, pushing her fear of the bridge aside. “Let's continue.”

As they crossed the bridge, Jane had visions of an albino crocodile leaping out to snatch them away, but nothing happened. They approached another archway in the far wall, and Tarzan motioned for them to keep low.

Creeping to the edge, they allowed their eyes to adjust to the brighter light flicking in the huge cavern. The bowl Tarzan had toppled over during his last venture inside had been moved to the center of the cave and relit, bathing everything in a bright light. They all marveled at the ruins scattered around the cavern, but their immediate attention was drawn to the large stone snake statues.

“They liked their snakes,” said Robbie seriously.

Idra squinted as she looked up at the snakes' eyes. “The eyes are onyx. Valuable, I bet.”

The entire plaza was deserted, yet the sounds of Targarni grunts and snarls echoed from a set of three archways in the far wall, each leading forty-five degrees away from the other. The group carefully descended the stairs, hunkering low as they ran between the buildings. Idra kept her rifle at hand, flinching at every flickering shadow.

They reached the sacrificial altar, which was strewn with bones—some animal, some more humanlike. Suddenly, Jane realized where stories of cannibals came from. She tried not to think about it and turned her attention to the three archways as they tried to isolate from which one the noise was coming.

“This place is a maze,” said Robbie worriedly. “We could get stuck down here.”

The sounds seemed to echo, not just from the tunnels, but also from all around the cavern. Identifying their origin was almost impossible.

“There,” said Tarzan pointing to the right-hand tunnel.

“How can you tell?” asked Idra doubtfully.

“I can smell Targarni,” muttered Tarzan grimly.

They carefully peered down the tunnel, keeping a safe distance behind the ruins for protection. The way ahead was lit by yet more bioluminescence. It seemed the deeper they traveled, the brighter it got. It was getting hotter too.

Then the world shook with a resounding wail as another earthquake struck. The floor vibrated so violently that the layer of dirt and grit looked as if it was hovering over the flagstones. The wall Jane was leaning on shook. All around them stone was grinding on stone. Jane expected to see cracks split open in the walls and ground, but it was solid, immobile rock. The ruins, however, were not so enduring. Stone blocks toppled from positions they had held for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. All across the plaza the weaker structures crumbled into piles of rubble, decimating the history contained within them.

A close, grinding sound made them all turn in unison. The stone snakes trembled before one slowly cascaded into the other and they toppled toward Tarzan and his companions in what felt like graceful slow motion. Driven by gut-wrenching panic, Robbie and Idra leaped one way, Tarzan and Jane the other, as the statues slammed into the floor with a thud so loud it shook everyone's ribcages. Jane felt grit strike her face, and swallowed a scream.

The stone reptilian head missed Tarzan by an inch, and the ape-man's shock quickly gave way to a bark of triumphant laughter. “
Histah
not get Tarzan,” he muttered.

They had no time to collect their breath before they heard a series of cracks, like ice breaking.

“Run!” yelled Robbie who was the first to spot the danger. The quake had severed several massive stalactites on the roof. They came hurtling down, shattering on the floor. Some were colossal—over three stories high—and once the larger pieces fell, smaller ones rained down in their wake.

Robbie was the first to race toward the tunnel Tarzan had chosen, pulling Idra with him. Tarzan was next, with Jane staggering behind. She covered her head as stones pelted her. Several dagger-sized stalactites smashed so close that she heard them whoosh past her ears.

Robbie reached the sanctuary of the archway and turned back, waving Tarzan and Jane closer.

“Hurry!” Then he looked up in horror. “Move! Move! Move!” He said the last rapidly, his eyes fixed upward.

Jane risked looking up, and in doing so wasted precious seconds. A section of roof directly above her, the size of a bus, was falling away. It was covered in razor-sharp stalactites, which would skewer her before she was crushed to death.

Tarzan slowed his pace so he could reach Jane. His grip around her arms was so strong she thought her bones would shatter. With Herculean force, Tarzan hurled Jane toward Robbie. He then bounded into the tunnel himself, just as the section of roof smashed down, creating a cloud of dust that choked the tunnel.

Then the earthquake stopped. Unlike on the surface, where the noise and shaking abruptly subsided, underground it continued for half a minute, as a bass-heavy echo.

It took several moments for the red dust to settle. Everybody started coughing. Idra broke out her water flask to rinse the dirt from her mouth and passed it around. They had made it through, but the cave-in had blocked their only escape route. They had no choice but to continue onward.

The tunnel sloped down gently and ahead they could see the bioluminescence turn red. Robbie was not concerned about the lighting—he was fighting a mounting panic and talking increasingly fast as he fought to keep control. “How are we going to get out? There's not much point in rescuing Clark if we can't get out.”

“We'll worry about that when we find him,” Jane replied calmly, although she was finding Robbie's panic infectious. “One problem at a time.”

“It's getting difficult to breathe,” he moaned, opening several buttons on his shirt. Not that it helped. He was already starting to hyperventilate. Jane had noticed the air was thicker, but hadn't wanted to stoke his panic.

They passed a room dug out from the side of the tunnel, whose purpose Jane couldn't guess. But Tarzan stopped them and pointed. It was filled with equipment. Some was old, scavenged over decades, while some was very familiar.