The Greystoke Legacy (4 page)

“Just tired.” She couldn't stifle a deep yawn.

“I know how you feel . . .”

Jane cut him off. “I'm all talked out, I just want to sleep.” She excused herself and slipped from the bar, mumbling her goodnights.

It was still hammering with rain outside. Hurricane lanterns burned around the perimeter of the camp, attracting hordes of insects but deterring the more fearsome predators. She readied herself to run through the mud to her hut—but a voice called behind her.

“Jane! Wait.” It was Robbie. “You looked sad today. A lot on your mind, I bet.” He paused, uncomfortable with discussing emotions. “I just wanted to say, if you ever need to talk . . .”

“What's there to talk about?” replied Jane frostily, then mentally kicked herself. This was an opportunity to renew their friendship. She softened. “Guess this is a long way from home for you too, huh?”

Robbie smiled. “Just a little. Still, it's better than what I left behind.”

“I don't believe that for a second.”

A brief flicker of pain crossed Robbie's face. “Believe it. When I stowed away, I didn't know where I was going. Didn't care. And I ended up here.”

“You and me both.”

“Best move I ever made. I know it's difficult—”

A loud crash suddenly reverberated through the darkness. It sounded like a tree falling, but was followed by a deep bass sound and massive cracking branches, as if something huge was moving through the jungle.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Robbie shook his head. They were both so on edge that they jumped when Mister David spoke from behind them.

“Something has been angered,” he muttered.

Jane wasn't comforted by the reply. “Like a lion?” The lions rarely came this high into the rainforest. Mister David shook his head. “An elephant?” Jane didn't believe something as huge as an elephant could move through the dense jungle, but she had been assured forest elephants were out there. She hadn't seen any interesting animals since she had arrived. In fact she had seen more at the Maryland Zoo back in Baltimore.

“Something bigger,” muttered Mister David.

Jane shivered. As far as she knew there was nothing bigger than an elephant. The unsettling commotion continued, drawing Archie, Clark, and a few others out.

“What the hell is that?” said Clark. “Sounds like a bulldozer.”

A quick check across the camp revealed the team's rusting bulldozer was still there, thick metal chains coiled behind it, tough enough to drag the felled trees away.

A terrifying howl suddenly echoed through the night. An unearthly blend of savage animal and tormented spirit.

“
Negoogunogumbar
,” muttered one of the Congolese workers, crossing himself.

“What's a
Negoogunogumbar
?” asked Robbie. He had a gift for languages so his tongue picked up the word easily enough.

Mister David replied in a low whisper that made his words all the more ominous. “The spirit of the jungle: a giant that eats children and brings ill fortune. Some say he comes in the night as a demon. Sometimes a white ape; sometimes an invisible spirit that slits men's throats.”

“That's just superstition,” cautioned Archie. “Maybe . . . maybe it's a troop of gorillas. There are some, out toward the mountains.”

“If gorillas can make that kinda racket,” hissed Robbie, “then I'd hate to get on the wrong side of them.”

•••

The rain abated the following morning, but the mystery intensified. During the night the bulldozer's engine cover had been wrenched open by some Herculean force. Wires and coolant tubes had been slashed and yanked from the engine block along with the fuel injectors. However, there were no footprints in the mud around the vehicle. No sign of the saboteur.

Negoogunogumbar
was again whispered amongst the loggers. Archie had tried to quash the rumor by laying suspicion on Tafari, the rebel general, and the first person Archie had suspected since the rebels had started demanding a larger cut of the profits.

Clark examined the damage. “Think you can fix her?” he asked Robbie.

Robbie was pleased to be asked. Back in the States he had worked in a garage from an early age and considered himself an adept mechanic. He had repaired the camp's jeep several times. Robbie inspected the damage with a keen eye.

“I suppose. We should have the parts in the supply shack, but it will take the better part of the day.”

Archie cursed under his breath. “We're not going to float that mahogany in the river tonight. Why would Tafari do something like this?”

Clark shook his head. “Can't be him, mate. This only delays them getting paid and they need the money to buy arms. Poachers, maybe?”

That left the unanswered question as to why poachers would do such a thing. Robbie busied himself with fixing the bulldozer. He was glad to have something to take his mind away from the unsettled atmosphere around him. Archie and Clark spent forty minutes calming the loggers. It was difficult to get the superstitious men back into the jungle to search for valuable hardwoods, but Archie couldn't afford to have them standing idly around since they were behind their quotas.

However, more strange news came back from the jungle. Mister David was out of breath when he returned at a run.

“It's gone! The tree . . . it has gone!”

A creeping paranoia settled over the camp as Archie and Clark followed Mister David. Jane insisted on accompanying them; she was feeling too nervous to be left behind.

They reached the clearing where their mahogany trophy had lain the day before. It wasn't there any more.

“How the hell did that happen?” yelled Clark in astonishment. He held up a finger to stop Mister David before he could utter the evil spirit's name.

“There must be other loggers in the area,” said Archie. If that were true it made their situation even more dangerous. The fight for dominance could get bloody.

Mister David picked out a trail that led from the clearing. The earth was furrowed from where the tree had been dragged out. It led a hundred yards before ending in a steep precipice that was hidden by foliage. It dropped a hundred feet to boulders and dense vegetation below. Poking through the bushes were the roots of the mahogany.

“Why just toss it off the cliff?” asked Jane.

“It's not the why that bothers me. It's the how,” said Clark darkly. “No machinery cut through here so it wasn't dragged off the cliff, it was pushed.”

“Unless it walked itself,” said Mister David.

Clark snorted. “Are you sayin' your jungle spirit is also a walkin' tree? You can cut that out now.”

“That's what it sounded like last night,” said Jane.

Clark shot her a stern look; she wasn't helping.

“Not a word to the others,” warned Archie. “Keep this between us. I don't need them getting wound up.” He looked at Mister David. “An extra fifty dollars for your mouth to stay shut.”

Jane wandered away from the conversation that swiftly turned into haggling as Mister David seized the opportunity to raise his fee. A dash of color amongst the verdant greens stood out. Jane carefully walked through the undergrowth until she reached a red flower. It was a delicate orchid, vibrant petals curved in exquisite shapes.

Jane went to pluck it; it would cheer up her drab bedroom. Her arm brushed the broad leaves of a fern and, as her fingers closed around the stem, she suddenly noticed something big and ugly had crawled onto her wrist.

For a moment she was paralyzed with fear.

It was a green insect the size of her palm, sporting a nasty pair of forearms and mandibles that Jane was convinced could pluck her eyeballs out. As it slowly crawled up her arm, Jane could feel every leg through her shirtsleeve. Then she finally found her voice and screamed.

“Jane!” Archie bolted over, a revolver clutched in one hand. It took him a moment to register the danger was on her arm, which she held rigid. He laughed with relief as he brushed the bug to the ground. “I told you not to wander off in the jungle.”

Jane scratched her arm to get rid of the tingling sensation that lingered from where the insect had crawled. “I didn't! You were just over there!”

“It's easy to get lost out here,” Archie warned her. “Just a couple of yards away from the trail and you can get disorientated. It can be impossible to find your way back.”

“I know that!” snapped Jane. “Why do you always overreact?”

Jane joined Mister David back at the ravine edge. Archie looked between his daughter and the harmless praying mantis crawling away under some dead leaves. Why does
he
overreact?

•••

Despite his generous bribe to keep silent, Mister David's mood did not improve. The walk back to Karibu Mji was frequently interrupted because he thought he'd caught movement in the trees. His uneasiness rubbed off on Jane, who was still jittery from her close encounter with the insect. At one point she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye—a figure partially obscured by broad leaves. But by the time she'd turned her head it had disappeared.

Back at Karibu Mji, Archie and Clark announced they were going to make contact with the FDLR to see if they could shed any light on the inexplicable events. Jane was forced into class with Esmée, who treated her to a warm smile, yesterday's tantrum forgotten.

Jane sat through math in relative silence. The lesson provided a welcome distraction from the thoughts of what was lurking out in the jungle. She loathed the wilderness around her more than ever, and was longing for the security of concrete and glass.

Mister David hung around the shacks, a shotgun slung over his shoulder. Jane suspected her father had ordered him to keep an eye on her. She occasionally saw Robbie crossing to the supply shack, his hands and face smudged with oil. Despite his deal with Clark, he was always avoiding lessons by insisting practical tasks were a priority. She was beginning to envy him.

The rest of the day passed without drama. Workers returned from their recess in the jungle, reporting what precious trees they had discovered, including several rare rosewood. Night came but there was no sign of her father returning from his meeting with the rebels. This was yet another worry Jane could do without.

Esmée assured her everything was perfectly fine. Because they had departed late, Archie and Clark wouldn't have reached the FDLR camp before dark. The jeep they took would only get them a part of the way there; the rest would have to be made on foot through the valley. They had done the route before, so had taken tents and provisions to see them through the night.

In the bar's kitchen, Jane ate a stew Esmée had prepared for the loggers. She looked up when Robbie sat with her.

“You know, in a couple of days me and Clark will be heading into town for fresh supplies. Want to come with us?”

Jane looked at him in surprise. The nearest supply town was almost a day away by jeep. It had been over a month since she had last been anywhere that resembled civilization.

“Sure,” she beamed.

“They've got an Internet connection there now. I was wondering what was happening in the rest of the world.”

“I thought you liked it out here?”

“I don't know about
like
. I just said it was better than a lot of other places. But to be honest, I know there are a lot of places better than New York.”

Jane tried not to smile over the fact she had gleaned a little information about Robbie, who was usually so tight-lipped.

“So that's where you're from.”

Robbie realized his slip of the tongue. He shrugged, but didn't comment further. Instead they both listened to the conversations flowing around them as they ate.

Talk in the bar turned to superstitious murmurs, which Jane was sure would spoil her sudden good mood. She retired to her room, lay on her hard bed, and cranked her music to maximum volume. One of the camp's cats joined her, curling up on her stomach to sleep. Jane idly scratched its head and felt the animal purr. It was a cathartic exercise and she felt her eyes slowly closing as she drifted into a deep slumber.

•••

It was the feline's sharp claws digging into her stomach that woke Jane. She sat bolt upright, the cat leaping gracefully to the floor, hissing at the door. Jane pulled her headphones out. The music had masked the shouting outside. A pair of gunshots cracked.

She ran to the door, opened it a fraction and saw people running in the darkness. Her first thought was they were being raided by an anti-poaching patrol. She opened the door a little more and the cat made a swift exit. People were running to the supply shack on the edge of the camp, which was ablaze. Orange flames leapt skyward and thick black smoke blotted out the full moon. Buckets of water were thrown over the fire but did little to combat it as more gunshots rang out. Mister David was several feet away from her, shooting into the darkness, Robbie at his side. He glanced at Jane.

“We need help with the fire!” he barked, before running after Mister David.

Jane was confused. Who were they shooting at? As she ran from her hut, toward the fire, she saw Esmée waddling as fast as she could, carrying a cooking pot filled with water. Jane took one of the handles to help her. The intense heat of the blaze made it uncomfortable to get close enough to throw the water but they persevered.

“I'll fill it up!” shouted Jane over the roar of the flames.

She sprinted toward the nearest drainage gully, which was still swollen from the previous night's rainfall. Jane forced the pot into the murky water and heaved it out just as an explosion rocked the supply shack from within. The sides of the shack blasted outward, flinging burning wooden spars and unidentified charred contents. Esmée was so close to the explosion that she was thrown backward.

“Esmée!”