The Greystoke Legacy (23 page)

He glanced over at Robbie, wondering why he had insisted Jane was still alive right until Bapoto and Tafari had beaten him senseless. Was he right? Archie didn't know how it was possible . . . unless she had been telling the truth about her jungle savior?

A faint glimmer of hope had cast his doubts away. He might die here, but the thought that Jane was still alive made him smile. He only hoped that, if it were true, she was running in the opposite direction as fast as she could.

•••

Tafari tore a leg from the roasted jungle fowl on his plate. The jungle provided more than enough to feed his men and the table was filled with bushmeat. The camp's cook had done sterling work, but Tafari longed for another taste of the succulent gorilla flesh he'd experienced two nights previously. He counted himself fortunate to have found the band and felt satisfied in killing those too slow to flee. His brother, Samson, had been hunting in that region when he went missing, and Tafari wondered if it was the same band of apes responsible for his death. He was a superstitious man who preferred to believe the apes ate human flesh, rather than believe the so-called scientists who claimed gorillas were vegetarians.

His entire army was gathered under the pavilion, talking loudly as they recovered from the previous few days' hike. Beer was flowing and dozens of empty bottles had already been tossed to the floor. Keeping his men happy during good times and instilling fear in them when things turned bad was the key to Tafari's success.

He eyed Bapoto warily. His lieutenant was joking with Oudry next to him and, from his actions, was telling him how they had tortured their two prisoners. The fact the younger one had insisted the girl was alive had bothered Tafari more than he liked to admit. People usually broke and told the truth under the torture he administered, but his story had remained consistent, and that was a worry. It meant Bapoto was lying about executing her and had managed to convince his men to keep the truth from their leader.

Paranoia gnawed at Tafari. Was his lieutenant plotting a coup? His eyes darted across his men. How many of them were involved? His gaze set on Oudry, that lout who was always trying to impress Bapoto.

At that moment the generator failed and the lights went out. It was such a regular occurrence that the men cheered. At least they could still eat under moonlight and the battery-powered radio continued playing.

The mechanic responsible for maintaining the generator bolted from his seat to fix it. He had faced Tafari's belt in the past for letting it run out of fuel.

Tafari felt uncomfortable. He slipped a hand under the table and rested it on the reassuringly cold hilt of his sidearm. His eyes swept his men—none seemed ready to attack him. He relaxed a little, then noticed the dogs. They stood at the end of their tethers, both looking into the jungle with their ears rect. What had they sensed?

•••

The mechanic reached the generator. It ran from an old truck engine he had ingeniously patched together. He was baffled, because he had made sure the fuel tank was topped up that very afternoon. He found the wind-up flashlight in its usual place near the fuel barrels and rapidly wound the dynamo. The light came to life and he cast it over the generator. The problem was immediately obvious—the flywheel belt had severed.

He took a closer step, his feet splashing through something wet. He shone the flashlight down to see the fuel cables had been yanked from the drums and gasoline was pouring out. He opened his mouth to raise the alarm—but a powerful hand clamped around his head and he was yanked backward into the undergrowth.

•••

Tafari picked up his beer and strode across to the corner of the pavilion. He leaned on the wooden post and lit up a cigar, carelessly throwing the match to the floor. He took a swig of beer—then paused. Where had the engineer gone? He glanced at the dogs. They still stood to attention but hadn't barked. Tafari walked over to the dogs and scratched one between the ears.

“What do you see?”

He unfastened both their chains, expecting them to race away barking. Instead they held their ground. Ears twitched . . . then they began to whine. Their tails folded between their legs and they bolted amongst the buildings. Tafari was astonished. He had trained the dogs to be ruthless and had set them on to the occasional pygmy they found in the jungle. They had even chased a leopard from a tree—nothing scared them!

Tafari threw his beer down and unholstered his pistol. He ran back to his men and spoke in a hushed voice.

“We're under attack!”

The men didn't hear him and continued eating. Tafari's suspicious eyes darted around the moonlit base. He didn't want to cause a panic. He grabbed the radio and threw it against the nearest table, halting the music. Conversations spluttered and all eyes turned to him.

“We're being raided,” he hissed.

The men exchanged glances. They knew from experience that ambushes tended to involve lots of gunfire and chaos. The camp was silent.

“Who?” said Bapoto looking around, a chunk of meat still in hand.

Tafari scowled at him and considered shooting him there and then to nip any pending coup in the bud—but he needed every man right now.

“The dogs have gone! The mechanic—where is he?”

This stirred the men and they looked around in alarm. Bapoto was the first out of his seat, snatching his rifle from where he had propped it against the table. The other men were less prepared; most had left their weapons in the barracks.

“Arm up!” hissed Tafari.

The men sprang into action, most rushing for the barracks—where they found the truck had mysteriously been pushed firmly against the door and its tires slashed. Tafari's temper exploded when Oudry returned to inform him that the men were having trouble rolling the truck away.

“How can this happen right under our noses?” demanded Tafari.

Bapoto looked uneasy. He was beginning to sweat, not from the humid jungle heat, but from fear. “The White Ape,” he muttered.

Tafari glared at his lieutenant. “Which doesn't exist, does it? You have never seen it.”

Bapoto looked away. Tafari's wrath would be worse than anything a supernatural spirit could administer.

•••

“Something's happening,” said Archie as he peered through a crack in the wall. “They're arguing. Running for their weapons.”

The news had alerted everybody and they strained to overhear anything that would explain the rebels' panic.

Robbie suddenly coughed and Esmée gently lifted him upright. “Easy, my boy.”

Robbie looked around. “How long was I out?” he winced. His entire body ached.

“A good few hours. Best thing to forget the pain.”

“They're spreading out,” reported Archie. “They're looking for something.”

Robbie craned to see, gritting his teeth from the intense pain. “What's happening?”

“Seems they got wind of something they don't like. It's probably just a leopard scaring them.”

Robbie doubted that. He knew exactly what it was.

“Tafari's heading this way!” Archie warned.

•••

Jane crouched in a tree that afforded a clear view over the camp. The moon offered enough light to see the guerrillas racing across the camp. She was reminded of ants scurrying to protect their nest. She watched Tafari as he led a knot of men to a large building at the edge of the camp. He opened the door and peered in, appearing to speak to somebody. With the distance and light, Jane couldn't see inside the hut, but from the way the general secured the heavy wooden spar back in place she was certain she had pinpointed the prisoners. Exactly as she'd hoped.

With a faint rustle of leaves, Tarzan sprang up into the tree and stood next to her. Jane pointed to the prison hut.

“My father and the others are in that building. I'm going to have to get inside, they may be tied up.”

Jane had expected a tirade of gallant refusals—no, it would be too dangerous, that's no job for a girl—the usual platitudes. Instead Tarzan simply nodded in agreement.

“Tarzan distract them.”

Jane couldn't stop a smile from crossing her face. She was feeling strong and alert, driven by the desire to save her father and friends. With Tarzan at her side, it was just about possible.

•••

Tafari ordered his men to spread out. He was confused—why hadn't they been attacked yet? Why the mischievous pranks? The very same stunts he had accused the Americans of performing.

In his consternation he started to believe the tales of the jungle spirit were true. How do you kill an angry forest ghost?

Gunfire came from the north. Tafari sprinted across as seven of his men emptied their automatic rifles into the trees. Tafari could see no sign of their target but joined them in firing blindly in the hope of hitting their aggressor. Branches were shredded under the bombardment and within seconds their ammunitions clips ran dry.

Then the forest exploded with activity. Several black giants barreled through the trees. Tafari couldn't see clearly enough but heard ferocious roars and saw three men plucked into the undergrowth, their terrified screams ending abruptly seconds later.

Out of ammo, the soldiers shrieked and retreated. Tafari cravenly pushed his men aside in the bid to be the first to safety. More gunfire erupted from the east side. A stray bullet must have caught the leaking gasoline because the fuel dump suddenly exploded with a deafening boom. A fiery mushroom cloud punched the sky and flames caught neighboring huts.

Tafari dropped to his knees and, with shaking hands, reloaded his pistol. He didn't know what was happening, but he had caught sight of terrible fangs when the jungle snatched his men. He swore he'd seen the face of the devil himself.

•••

Jane crept through the shadows behind the prison hut. Walking around to the main door would mean revealing herself to the rebels, and it would only take one bullet to stop her. She prodded the hut's walls. They were made from solid timber and immune to any punishment she could dole out. Luckily she wasn't alone.

•••

Mister David was the first to react to the loud thump against the rear wall. The planks buckled as they were struck again. Everybody else was pulling at their chains to try and peer through cracks so they could watch the drama unfolding outside.

Mister David and Serge scrambled aside as a third thud cracked the wood. All eyes turned fearfully as the pounding increased until a gaping hole was torn into the wall.

Esmée crossed herself and Mister David mumbled a prayer as a dark shape entered the prison. It was a huge silverback ape walking on its knuckles. It snorted at the prisoners, studying each in turn. A wave of fresh terror washed over the captives as the giant walked right in amongst them. Serge grasped his chain as the only defense from the wild animal . . . then a flash of blonde hair stopped him in his tracks.

Jane pushed past Kerchak and spotted her father. She ran over and hugged him.

“You're alive . . .” was all he could manage as tears rolled down his face.

More gunfire sounded from outside. The rebels had reloaded. Kerchak grunted, task complete, then quickly exited. Jane looked at the frightened faces.

“Where's Robbie?'

Robbie sat up and Jane ran over and hugged him tightly. “I thought they would kill you!”

“They gave it a damn good try,” said Robbie between the jolts of pain from Jane's embrace.

“We've got to get you out.” She examined the shackle around Robbie's leg and tried to pry it apart.

“No luck,” lamented Esmée, suddenly seeing the chance of escape fizzle. Even the gorilla couldn't tear the steel clamps from their legs. “You need a key.”

“Like this?” Robbie produced Bapoto's key from his pocket.

Archie gawped. The evening was turning into one big miracle. “How did you get that?”

Robbie grinned despite the pain across his bruised face. “All I had to do was get Tafari to hit me hard enough so I would fall against Bapoto. Then I snagged it from his belt.”

“You took that beating just to steal a key?” said Archie incredulously.

Robbie shrugged. “It was the only plan I had. Besides, I knew Jane would come for us.”

All eyes swiveled to Jane as she snatched the key and unlocked Robbie's shackles.

“Who you here with?” asked Clark, galvanized by the possibility of escape.

Jane grinned. “Tarzan. And he's brought a few friends.”

•••

Tafari was overseeing his men as they rearmed. He rummaged through crates of munitions, taking several hand grenades and clipping them to his bandolier. He selected a rocket launcher and slung it over his shoulder. He was a one-man army.

Outside was chaos. Soldiers were blindly shooting into the trees, wasting their precious ammunition. The fuel fire had ignited several buildings and small groups of men attempted to extinguish them with buckets filled from the river.

Bapoto ran to his leader's side. “They see nothing!”

“They're wasting bullets,” snapped Tafari. He shoved Bapoto in the chest. “Get in the tower and cover the area!”

Bapoto ran to the watchtower and clambered up the rickety ladder to the gun nested above.

Tafari scrambled to put a plan together. Was this an attack on him or a rescue attempt? He glanced at the prison hut. The flames helped illuminate the area and he could see the door was still bolted shut. He began to rally his men.

“Don't shoot unless you can see your target!”

His men began to calm and form tight groups. Tafari hadn't maintained his position without developing strong leadership skills and by training his men hard every day. It only took a few moments for him to spread his troops around the camp, strategically hunkering down behind equipment and barrels, guns trained on the dark trees.