“What in the world are you doing here, in Tampa?”
“We are from Nairobi, Africa. The radical Islamic leaders ordered all non-native landowners to turn over their land to the government. They were given forty eight hours to vacate the country. We could not leave these precious few elephants behind. They would have been eaten, just like this poor little one’s mother. The babe was found stuck in a shallow well. She must have run in her panic after her mother was slain, falling in. We were notified by a kind Masai. Her trunk was savaged, probably by a hyena. It is common. We set down here from the Miami airport because if she dies, the others will be upset and they need calmness. It is not a good time to be in an airplane for them.”
“I don’t understand why you have them, elephants are almost extinct. It’s against the law to bring an elephant out of Africa.”
“Yes, Miss Abby. I work for the Elizabeth Siggins Wildlife Foundation. I have worked for them for over forty years. Ms. Elizabeth’s husband started the Kenya Wildlife Protection Corp. so many years ago. Ms. Elizabeth was a very famous woman, loved by many all over the world for her spirit and dedication. She created miracles for her beloved elephants. When the government threatened the land that belonged to the foundation, the family enlisted the help of Her Majesty’s Royal Air Force to secrete the elephants away to safety in the United States. They have always been important supporters of Ms. Elizabeth’s efforts. Everything happened so quickly. Unfortunately, we were only able to save these few before the soldiers came. We were lucky to get away. Many more were left behind.” Johno’s voice broke, his arm raked across his eyes, wiping away his tears. “My babies . . . so much trauma and terror in their short lives.” He broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. “We could not save them all. I am sorry, I cannot speak further. Please excuse me.” He turned back to the pitiful creature sprawled on the floor surrounded by the other keepers, tears in the eyes of the anguished men.
Abby slowly approached the circle of men. She reached out to rest her hand on Johno’s shoulder. “Johno, I can help you. I can help the baby.”
Johno’s head snapped back to her with uncontrolled hope. “You can help our baby, Miss Abby? Please, please. How can you help? Do you have a miracle medicine?”
“No, Johno, I have something better. Please, stand back.” She moved Johno to the side, waving away the attentions of the other keepers. Johno’s face fell as he realized she would not be forthcoming with medicine.
Seemingly from out of thin air, Abby’s tail flexed and snapped high into the air, extruding its healing membrane, sending pressure felt by all and the accompanying odor of sulfur. The keepers didn’t understand the significance of her tail or where the path of pressure emanated from, and reacted by throwing themselves flat on the ground, screaming.
As the excited screams slowed to frightened mutters, the men finally absorbed the complete quiet settling around their shoulders, no more sound coming from the belly of the transport, the elephants’ silence ominous. Then a squeak. And then a squeal, coming from none other than the dying baby, who struggled to stand under her own power as a cacophony of excited trumpets emanated from the back of the transport, happy elephants eager to caress the newly healthy baby.
The keepers rose slowly, frightened and unbelieving, their hands making the sign of the cross. Abby watched Johno, his face impassive and calm, a cypher. He turned to her, holding out his hand. “Miss Abby, the Lord has sent you to us.”
Abby stepped up to grasp his hand in hers. “Where are you traveling with these elephants, my friend?”
“We have been offered sanctuary in the most wondrous place. It is called The Bronx Zoo.”
Abby smiled wide. “Yes, I have heard of it. I think we will meet again, my friend. I am going in that direction myself. Will you be leaving soon?”
“Yes, miss, we will leave as soon as possible.” Johno’s eyes searched hers, his voice giving out and reverence overwhelming his impassive nature. As Abby turned to take her leave she glanced back.
“You may want to have a look at the big elderly girl in there. She is one happy ele.” With a nod, she returned to her own transport.
*
Johno stood rooted to the spot. He thought he had seen everything in his sixty two years. He had never considered himself a superstitious man as so many Africans were wont to be. He prided himself as one of the lucky few with parents who were able to afford a uniform that enabled him to attend school as a youngster. Fate stepped into his young life when he met the first extraordinary woman of his life, Ms. Elizabeth Siggins. She had recognized his deep capacity to love her little orphan charges as the adults fell under the onslaught of ivory poachers, poison arrows, droughts, angry cattle herders and the fences which had appeared across their traditional migratory routes, displacing them. No one could have foreseen the political shift in Kenya from staunch ally of the United States to the radical Islamic stronghold which had turned to the wildlife to feed the hordes of refugees they displaced in other African countries, causing chaos and turmoil to all English landowners, instituting a land grab, evicting them from their land and confiscating all their personal property, including their creatures.
For rescue centers, rehabilitation stations and wildlife biologists with decades-old study groups, the outcome was catastrophic as they struggled to fight the confiscation of their creatures for the slaughterhouses. Many noble men and women lost their lives to the merciless onslaught, refusing to desert the creatures they had long loved. Those that stayed behind with Johno to salvage what they could had heard rumors of the tragedy at The Dian Fossey Research Center at Karisoke in neighboring Rwanda. A habituated family of thirty gorillas had disappeared with no trace, thought to have been vanquished by poachers who had probably slaughtered them for bush meat.
Six months later, the staunchly loyal personnel were murdered as they tried desperately to protect the remaining families of the fragile yet magnificent mountain gorillas who remained in their charge. The reports of copious quantities of blood and stiffening gorilla carcasses displayed high on the back of triumphant Islamic trucks quickly reached the ears of all in the conservation community in Nairobi. Heavy hearts at the Siggins Wildlife Foundation quickly formulated plans to evacuate.
Johno and the other keepers escaped with a very small amount of elephants, two young rhinos, and a pair of kudu through the efforts of the Royal Air Force and the daughters of the long-deceased Ms. Elizabeth. Johno’s heart bled at the thought of how his benefactress gratefully resided in heaven with her beloved husband. He knew they were surrounded by all the baby eles who had never recovered from the trauma and shock of their brief introduction to this brutal world. He glanced to the heavens to thank the Lord she did not have to know of this bitter catastrophe.
Johno’s thoughts returned to Miss Abby’s parting remark about his elderly elephant. She had no way of knowing how he had insisted this special wise creature accompany them to salvation in the United States. He just could not have lived if forced to leave Tobi behind. She remained one of the pride and joys of the Wildlife Foundation, a success story beyond their wildest dreams and a personal favorite of Ms. Elizabeth and Johno. A wild elephant who had never forgotten her love of her keepers, and returned endlessly to check on new babies and preen as the keepers lavished adoration and affection on her.
Poor tiny Tobi had been found near death’s doorstep in September of 2002 near a water hole in the Imenti Forest in Meru. Her mother was thought to have been a victim of poaching, their small herd having been cut off from their traditional migration route to the Mount Kenya forests by the fencing that followed the expansion of human settlements.
They had estimated Tobi’s age to be only days old. The only measure that had kept the poor newborn alive was the discovery by Ms. Elizabeth that when a newborn did not have the opportunity to draw on its mother first milk, they missed out on the critical colostrum needed to trigger the infant’s natural immune system. When a colostrum-deficient infant was discovered, they
had to ascertain whether a severe enteritis was present, producing bleeding from the rectum and the onslaught of deadly pneumonia. Ms. Elizabeth had discovered that a transfusion of blood extracted from another newborn could be distilled to plasma and injected through a vein in the ear of the stricken orphan, saving its life. Such had been the case with Tobi. After the successful transfusion, they had given her hope for a new chance at life. In the Meru dialect, Tobi means life.
Johno’s decision to bring her in from her life in the wild had given her hope again. She would now escape the ruthless slaughterhouses along with the three young orphans; the two four-year-old juveniles; the young bull, Medoc; and their two young rhino, the youngest completely blind.
Johno heard a trumpet from inside the plane. A trumpet of glee and happiness—but loud, very loud. The big ones must be overjoyed about the recovery of the little nameless one. Hefting himself up onto the cargo deck of the transport he could not believe his eyes. Tobi looked ten years younger. The nasty rip in her right ear was gone, the long gnarly scar near the tip of her delicate trunk, nonexistent. She shifted happily from side to side, lifting her feet as if her swollen arthritic joints no longer pained her. The bull and two juveniles excitedly ran their trunks all over her legs.
My Lord, thought Johno, stunned to the core. I think I have just met the second most important person in my life.
Chapter 3
Abby ran from truck to truck ensuring all were empty. To her consternation, she inadvertently attracted the attentions of one of the truckers.
“Come on, babe, slow down. I just want to say a proper how do.”
Abby ignored him and continued to check the trucks. She wanted to shove off and get the transport in the air. In the back of her mind she began to worry about the manpower it might take to properly care for all of the animals she planned to save. She wanted to ask members of the Bronx Zoo trucking convoy to voluntarily join them, yet she couldn’t be certain that would give her enough manpower.
“Babe, come on. I just want a little time to chat ya up seeins I might be back in these parts again, ya never know. Sure would be nice and neighborly if ya let me look ya up.” The unfortunate lothario was none other than the skinny, weasel-faced, cigarette-smoking trucker who had pissed his pants back at the Big Cat Sanctuary when he had unexpectedly confronted a bear and a lion as they calmly padded to his truck. It seemed he had finally recovered his dignity and located his missing balls. She stopped in her tracks to face him.
“Look, babe. I don’t have time for this. I appreciate the job you did for me, but it’s time to move on now.” Or is it? Abby’s head shot straight up with an idea. Turning to the shit-kicker, she plastered on her best smile.
“Whoa—Dezi likes.” His face lit up like a kitten that had just discovered the keys to a sardine truck.
“Dezi. May I call you Dez?” Abby flinched to herself at the sound of her cheesy come-on, even though Dezi’s had been far worse.
“Babe, you can call me anything you want as long as you call me.” He snickered and preened, tugging semi-discreetly at his crotch, the area experiencing an unmistakable swelling. Rolling her eyes, she sensed that the pathetic guy spouted his annoying repartee to make up for his unfortunate mug and unimposing stature, yet she also sensed something broken and hurt in this impudent guy. Freezing the smile on her face, she tried again.
“Dez, if you’re available, I would like you to accompany us to Newark to help with the offload of the animals. I’ll pay you well. The job will take about twelve hours, including flying time. I need additional help at a zoo and could really use you. I’ll fly you back to Tampa first class and cover the cost of leaving your truck here.” She bit the bullet and placed her hand seductively on his arm. He jumped a foot in the air with surprise at the unexpected touch.
“I’d be doin’ you a solid?” He looked as anxious as a puppy trying hard to hold its urine.
“Yeah, Dez. You’d be doing me a solid.”
“So you and me might find some time in the future to do the dirty?”
Abby recoiled. “For Pete’s sake, Dez, let’s take things a bit slower. We’ll talk about that when the job’s done. Do we have a deal?”
Dezi narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Abby identified his transparent emotions as they flickered across his homely face, clearly wondering how far he could go with her, hoping she wasn’t putting him on. He broke out in a smile.
“Yeah, babe, let’s go for it.” He held out his hand for a shake. Abby clasped his hand only to be pulled off balance toward him and rewarded with a sloppy attempt at a kiss.
“Damn, Dez, I said, slow. S-l-o-w. Got it?” His shit-eating grin made her wonder about the wisdom of her offer.
“Yeah, babe, I got it.” He pursed his lips and made kissing sounds.
Oh, please deliver me, she thought. “Why don’t you head to the transport after you park your truck someplace safe? Introduce yourself around and find a seat like a good boy, okay?”
“Okay. See you later, babe.” He turned toward his truck with a slap and a caress on his own butt, turning once to wink before disappearing from sight.
Puke. Abby shook her head, her long golden hair swaying as she wondered how in the world she would explain this to Jose.
Coming upon the last truck, she recognized the driver.
“Hello, Mr. Calloway. You must be in a hurry to get on with your next gig.” Clyde straightened up respectfully from his lounging position alongside his truck, his portly belly still hanging well below his belt.
“Miss Preston, happy to see you. This sure has been a first for me and my rig. You have a mighty magic touch with the beasts.” His clear hazel eyes bore into hers. Abby recognized a man not easily fooled but practical enough not to ask questions. “I’m in no hurry. I’m not running to the next job. My wife and the grandkids are in Tampa for a couple of weeks. I’m going to join them, kick back a beer and let the kids have their way with me.” Clyde’s lined but still relatively attractive face shined with pure bliss. And of course, that gave Abby an idea.
“Mr. Calloway—”
“Call me Clyde.”
“Clyde. And I’m Abby. As I was saying, would you be interested in lending me a hand for another twelve hours? It means going to Newark with us on the transport and help with the logistics of another load of animals at a local zoo. The pay is rich.”
“How rich?”
“Rich enough to make it impossible to turn me down.”
“Well, now you’re talkin’. But just twelve hours. I need to get back to my grandkids.”
“No problem, Clyde. Why don’t you pull your truck over there and find a seat on the transport? If you could sit with Dezi and keep an eye on him, I would be most grateful.”
“Dezi?” His eyebrow rose.
Abby laughed knowingly. “Yeah, I know. But the guy’s harmless, he just needs a firm hand.”
She waved as Clyde nodded and climbed into his truck with a smile. “Twelve hours, not one minute more.”
*
Jose eyed the passenger seats on the transport. The door separating them from the cargo hold didn’t appear strong enough to resist the efforts of Barney, let alone the Bengal tiger Scotty and Echo called Caesar. Abby may have them under control with Echo’s implants but she was a novice at this. Christ, anything can go wrong. He thumped down in a seat near the middle, wondering when Abby would join them. His list of questions now reached from Tampa back to Sarasota. He steamed quietly as he caught a glimpse of Captain Cobby picking a seat near Kane.
Sizing up the transport, he wondered how much this jaunt would cost, not that money was an issue. The cabin appeared capable of holding them all. The seats sported an undistinguished brown vinyl, hard but serviceable. The backs of the seats were designed to allow a line of sight around the whole cabin. All the better to spot the carnivore planning to eat you.
Jose heard the cabin door bang. Turning around, he spotted a ferret-faced skinny dude coming down the aisle, followed by a
big man with an enormous beer belly dragging him down.
“Hey, call me Dez. This here is Clyde.” Dez gave a two-finger salute from his brow and kept moving, nodding and saying hello.
Clyde stopped at Jose’s seat, extending his hand. “Nice to meet you. And you are?”
“Jose. Nice to meet you, Clyde.”
“Oh, you must be Miss Preston’s brother. You look so much alike.” Jose flushed.
“No, her brother is further up. I’m her boyfriend.”
Now Clyde flushed. “Sorry. It must be the shades.” Nodding amiably, Clyde moved on to introduce himself to the others. Jose overheard him explain to Captain Cobby that they had joined the expedition as extra hands to help wrangle animals at a zoo. For heaven’s sakes, is she still going through with this?
Jose sat back in his seat and glanced out the window. From out of nowhere, two sets of tiny wizened hands shot out to grab Jose’s pants, hauling themselves up to make themselves comfortable on the seat next to him. Two white-faced monkeys had somehow slipped through the door and managed to locate Jose where they decided to seek refuge. Wouldn’t he love to watch Senior Brooks’ face if he could see this? Yeah, he would watch him in Hell where he belonged. Thanks to Echo, he’d been dispatched by the mysterious creatures which resided in her antlers, melting him down to less than the crud on the bottom of Jose’s shoes.
He absently stroked the monkeys that had once played a short, happy act in his childhood. Taking stock, Jose realized his shock over the discovery of who had murdered his parents and the unveiling of Chloe as his kidnapped sister, was finally starting to dissipate. But where did all this anger come from? He realized he sounded like a petulant angry child. Jealousy? Boy, no wonder Abby’s distancing herself from me. Her plate runneth over and his anger, while understandable, was of no help to her. He made a note to himself not to overreact to anything while he was still digesting the brutal events and discoveries at Chloe’s—no, not Chloe’s—the despicable slime ball, Omar Nasir’s, mansion. Chloe had never been his daughter.
Alien Species Intervention Page 56