‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ she snapped, knowing that didn’t matter.
She owed Yates, and while she was sure Kruger was bluffing, she couldn’t take the chance. She’d put Yates through enough. If they killed him because of her obstinacy, the guilt would be difficult to live with.
‘Daylight’s a wasting,’ Tanner said.
‘I really don’t know,’ she said. ‘I have no idea of their habits. Anything I say will be a guess.’
One of Tanner’s eyes opened a little wider. ‘Then guess!’
She sighed, took a deep breath and shrugged. ‘It’s early, but as with most cold-blooded reptiles, they’ll probably need to warm up. They’re most likely in open ground somewhere, perhaps basking on rocks.’
Tanner smiled, and then pointed ahead. ‘Sun’s rising, so head over to the eastern side of these hills.’
As Franks did as he was told, Tanner unzipped his long bag, pulling out a long, almost antique-looking rifle, complete with telescopic sight.
‘Are you really going to kill them?’ Suzanna asked, aware her voice was almost pathetic. ‘Don’t you care what they might be?’
He gave her a keen look, as he placed his hat on his head, tying the string under his chin. ‘Nope. They’re man-eaters, that’s all I need to know. In my experience, once an animal has tasted human flesh, there’s no going back. Whether they’re big cats or big reptiles, they always come back for more. We’re easy prey, see.’
She sat silently as Tanner opened the helicopter door, secured it tight on its outside latch, and then leaned out, one foot on the skis, rifle to his shoulder.
‘Keep it level,’ he instructed Franks. ‘I’m too old to be falling out of choppers.’
They scoured the area on the eastern edge of the mountains for nearly half an hour before anybody saw anything.
Tanner may have been old but he had the eyes of a hawk. As they went over a small rise, he pointed to something in the distance and lifted the binoculars to his eyes.
‘What’s that?’
Suzanna peered through the open door of the helicopter. The ground below was scrubland, short grass dotted with a few boulders and the occasional tree. At first, she couldn’t see anything. Then slowly she spotted small black specks, some moving around and taking to the air.
‘Crows,’ she said. ‘Torresian crows, if I’m not mistaken.’
‘Carrion feeders,’ Tanner said, urging Franks to get closer by jabbing his finger.
He hovered to about fifty feet away, and Tanner scrutinised the area, first with his binoculars, then with the telescopic sight on his rifle. Eventually, he waved his hand up and down indicating they should land.
After Franks spun the chopper around, shuffled it left, shuffled it right, they descended. Tanner hopped out as soon as the skis hit the grass, head down, hand clutching his hat.
Suzanna followed him, her curiosity aroused by the large carcass surrounded by crows.
Franks remained behind, keeping the rotors spinning, which blew Suzanna’s hair in front of her face and swirled up the dust and caused some of the birds to take flight. The others disappeared when Tanner approached, but the flies didn’t. Hundreds of them swarmed around the bloated, dead carcass as if re-enacting the Battle of Britain in miniature.
The putrid and overpowering stench made Suzanna gag and even Tanner had to place the back of his hand across his mouth as he squatted down, swiping the hat from his head and wafting away the tiny insects as they peppered his face.
‘What the hell ...’ he muttered, as he studied the corpse.
It was big, the body the size of a cow, only this was no mammal. Scales covered the length of it, including the tail, which had broken off and lay a few feet away. The rest was in bad shape too, half-eaten by creatures far bigger than crows, with huge chunks of flesh torn from the flanks, neck and legs. Yet it was recognizable, at least to Suzanna. The flat head, small black eye, serrated, razor sharp teeth, bowed legs and elongated body resembled most monitor lizards, but its size dwarfed other living reptile, even the largest saltwater crocodile. The only thing it could possibly be was a Megalania. The sight of it excited her. An animal thought extinct millennia ago was here, living, or at least recently living, but there must be more of them.
‘I take it this is one of them?’ Tanner asked, still wafting away the flies.
Suzanna removed her hand from her mouth. ‘What’s left of it, yes.’
‘No hyenas out here,’ Tanner said. ‘What’s big enough to have taken bites that size?’
‘Some goannas, like Komodos, are cannibalistic. This could be the one that Bud shot. The others may have taken advantage of its weak state.’
Tanner studied the ground as if reading the headlines on a giant newspaper at his feet.
‘I reckon there were at least two of them,’ he said, squatting beside the vague impressions in the grass and dirt. ‘One bigger than the other.’
He looked back at the dead Megalania, his hand scratching the greying stubble on his chin.
‘I’d say it’s been dead less than twelve hours, which means they may not have gone far.’
He stood and stared further up the scrubby plain towards the hills flanking the valley. ‘They headed off in that direction.’ He placed the binoculars to his eyes. ‘Quite a bit of long grass and forest canopy. Won’t see them from the chopper. I suggest we get our things and go look on foot.’
He strode off towards the helicopter, clutching his hat to his head, and she scampered after him.
‘I’m not going,’ she insisted. ‘I’ve done what you’ve asked. You can find them without me.’
‘Possibly, but you may still prove useful.’ He gestured to Franks, miming a blade across his throat. ‘Shut the engine off! I want you to wait here. We’re heading off on foot.’
‘How long will you be?’ Franks asked, his head glancing around the plains of the valley floor.
‘As long as it takes,’ Tanner said, reaching into the cockpit and removing a canvas knapsack, which he slung on his back, a canteen of water, which he handed Suzanna, and a radio, which he placed in his top pocket. ‘If I need you to pick us up, I’ll let you know, but unless you hear from us, don’t move!’
‘And what happens if you don’t come back?’ Franks said, as Tanner shut the chopper door.
Tanner ignored the comment, and just marched north, Suzanna watching him go for a few seconds, before quickly scurrying after him.
Chapter 18
Kruger’s stomach burned as he stared through his hut’s window at the dust in the distance. His ulcer flared up again. No surprise. That morning there had been a minor uprising among the local workers. Word had gone round that a demon, angered at their activities, had come down from the mountains to take revenge.
Not only had a number of workers run off in the night, most likely destined to starve to death in the bush—they were at least fifty miles from the nearest villages—others were refusing to go back to work.
He had to nip it in the bud.
Through Loudon, he’d spoken to the locals that morning, promising them they had nothing to worry about. He quashed their rumours of demons by explaining a rogue crocodile had attacked a few people and promised them that a famous white hunter had been sent to kill the creature and bring back its head. This seemed to mollify them a little and begrudgingly they went back to work, but they lacked spirit, going through the motions but trudging around the mine slowly, holding up production.
Since he’d lost his company men, Kruger had nobody to crack the whip, only Loudon, and he was soft as pussycat’s underbelly. What he needed was somebody willing to kick a few backsides, and he knew just the person.
A gentle tap sounded on his door, and Yates appeared with a tray of food.
‘Loudon told me to bring you this,’ he said, setting down the tray. His hands shook and big bags hung under his eyes.
‘Thank you,’ Kruger said, striding over to the desk and peering at the eggs and flatbreads. ‘Have
you eaten?’
Yates shook his head. ‘I’m not hungry.’
Kruger smiled, reached into his pocket and removed the Tramodol. ‘Perhaps one of these will spark your appetite.’
Yates’ eyes fixed on the pills like a dog staring at a treat. ‘No ... I ...’
‘Take them,’ Kruger said, holding out two of the little white pills. ‘After what you’ve been through, you need something to calm your nerves.’
After a moment’s hesitation, Yates took them and gulped them down dry. ‘Thank you,’ he said, turning about and walking to the door.
‘No problem,’ Kruger said. ‘Oh, and Henry.’
Yates turned around. ‘Yes?’
‘This afternoon, I think I might put you to work out there.’ He pointed out the window. ‘Nothing heavy, just a little supervising, ensuring the locals are not taking liberties.’
His mouth opened and closed but Kruger rattled the pills in their bottle. ‘You need to earn your keep.’
Yates bowed his head. ‘Okay,’ he said, shuffling out of the door.
For an old man, Tanner had the endurance of a marathon runner. He walked relentlessly, never staggering, never slowing, never needing to catch his breath.
Unlike Suzanna.
She struggled to get enough breath into her lungs. The sun and humidity was oppressive, and with very little cover, other than a few sparse trees and the occasional rocky outcrop, it became unbearable.
‘I have to stop,’ she panted, after about an hour’s walking. She grabbed her knees and bit at the air to try to get some oxygen into her lungs. ‘How much farther are we going to have to go?’
‘That depends,’ Tanner said, taking a swig from the canteen before holding it to her mouth. ‘How far can these mega ... mega ... giant lizards of yours travel in twelve hours?’
She sucked at the water bottle like a newborn foal going at a teat, but Tanner soon removed it and screwed on the cap.
‘Who knows,’ she said, still gasping for air. ‘As I said, the closest things we know of are Komodos, and we know precious little about those. They are territorial and patrol a couple of miles a day, but they are smaller and come from a small island, so who knows how far a Megalania will roam.’
He rested the butt of his rifle on the ground and leant on it as he scratched at his stubble. ‘So what other habits do these Komodos have?’
She slumped to the ground to rest, arms around her knees. ‘Most are solitary, only gathering to mate and when there is a big kill lying about, but these Megalania seem to be working as a group, which is unlike Komodos.’
‘Could it be a family group?’ Tanner asked, remaining on his feet. He didn’t even look like he’d broken a sweat. ‘Male elephants are solitary but females live in herds.’
‘These are lizards,’ she said. ‘Everything you thought you knew about animal behaviour is different with them. They don’t hold bonds, family or otherwise. When Komodos hatch, they normally dash up a tree and hide until they are big enough to defend themselves, not because of predators but because the mother will just eat them. And cannibalism is only part of their weirdness.’
He looked intrigued, raising one eyebrow. ‘Go on.’
‘They can be reproduce a-sexually.’
He squinted at her.
‘Virgin births,’ she said. ‘Males are a luxury, the females don’t need them.’
‘Sounds like they hold the same ideals as my ex-wife,’ Tanner said, dryly.
He shielded his eyes as he stared westward into the sun. After propping his rifle on the bank next to Suzanna, he walked a little way and surveyed the hills.
‘I’ve not seen any tracks for a while but it looks like they were heading to the top of this rise. Let’s see if we can make it before noon,’ he said.
‘So you can get your kill in before lunchtime.’
He smiled. ‘You may not like what I’m here to do, Dr Howard, but we’re both in the same game.’
‘What! I conserve and study animals, you butcher them!’
‘I cull them. There’s a difference. Environments like this cannot sustain an unlimited number of apex predators. When their numbers gets to great, we end up with incidents like we’ve seen. Humans end up on the menu, and that won’t do.’
‘And what makes you think their numbers are too great? For all you know, you could be about to wipe out the last of their kind.’
He shook his head. ‘If that’s true, they are doomed anyway. Suppose we did as you suggest, and all the miners up and left. What would these animals eat then? It’s clear there’s no game large enough to sustain them, otherwise they wouldn’t be going after people.’
He turned round to look around the hillside again.
‘You don’t know that. They must have survived on something before we turned up.’
‘Maybe they did, but I’ve seen nothing larger than a rat all day. You mark my words, these animals are eating themselves to extinction. I’ve seen it before. Has it occurred to you, by culling these man-eaters, we may actually be saving the species from extinction?’
She frowned in confusion. She understood the necessity of culling kangaroos back home, but they numbered in the millions. She supposed the Megalania only existed in small numbers in this untouched pocket of Papua New Guinea, but perhaps Tanner was right. Perhaps Kruger and his men had not wandered into their territory at all. Perhaps the Megalania had extended their normal boundaries because of feeding pressures.
Perhaps.
Neither she nor Tanner could know for certain, and while she was prepared to listen to his arguments, she wasn’t prepared to stand by and watch him potentially wipe out a previously thought extinct species of animal, just because of an unsubstantiated theory.
She had no choice to come along on this hunt, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take advantage of her predicament. She looked at Tanner’s rifle lying next to her. Whatever happened out here, she was certain of one thing—Tanner was not going to get his kill.
When they reached the summit of the hill, Suzanna was gasping with exertion and lack of oxygen, and the view took away what was left of her breath.
Even in her weary state, she appreciated the splendour and beauty of the scenery below. The valley floor, a mixture of scrubland and long grass, looked like a beige river winding its way between the dark green walls of the surrounding hillside where a few rocky outcrops jutted through the greenery. Even though she knew somewhere down there was the excavation site, and closer to the horizon, Kruger’s main mine, she saw no evidence of anything that marred the vast, natural and untouched landscape, just a patchwork blanket of greens and browns.
They also saw no evidence of the creatures they were tracking. On reaching the top, when Suzanna slumped to the ground gulping water and resting her burning feet, Tanner scoured the ground, occasionally dropping to one knee for closer examination, but always returning to his feet, head shaking.
‘The damned things have simply vanished,’ he said. ‘They must have doubled-back, but how the hell could animals that size have sidled past us unseen?’
‘Perhaps you have been following the wrong tracks.’
He glared at her. ‘I’ve been tracking game longer than you’ve been alive. They headed this way, I’m sure of that.’
‘Well, they’re not here now.’ Suzanna took off one of her boots and pressed the blisters on her feet. ‘So, what do you want to do?’
He stared west where the sun hung well above the horizon. ‘We’ve still got a few hours before nightfall. I suggest we get back to Franks, take the bird up and see if we can pick up their trail.’
‘Can we at least rest for ten minutes first?’
He shook his head. ‘No, put your boot back on.’
They then marched back the way they came, Suzanna limping on her sore foot, cursing and swearing with each step.
‘Will you keep quiet,’ Tanner hissed, turning round and glaring at her. ‘No wonder they managed to give us the slip with all that racket you�
�re making.’
They continued on in silence. Tanner occasionally stopped her with a raised fist and he would put his rifle to his shoulder and scan the surrounding area, before continuing.
Going downhill was at least easier, but she still sweated profusely, and by the time the helicopter came into view, her shirt clung to her body, her thighs were chafed, and her feet were so sore she limped and hobbled, while Tanner continued to march as if taking a Sunday afternoon stroll.
He halted a hundred yards from the chopper.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked, desperate to get back into the helicopter and rest. He grabbed her shoulder as she tried to shamble past.
‘Wait!’
Keeping her back with the palm of his hand, he unslung the rifle from his shoulder.
‘What is it?’ she hissed.
‘Something’s not right,’ he said, tentatively stepping forward.
She watched him creep up to the helicopter, rifle at his shoulder. He skirted round the dead Megalania they had found earlier and scanned the small clump of trees behind it before moving on to the helicopter. There he paused, peered into the cockpit, slung his rifle on his back and stood staring at something.
Curiosity overwhelmed Suzanna, and she limped up to see what the problem was. Only when she neared and saw the trail of blood from the open door and what was left of Franks’ body hanging out it did she realise exactly what.
Chapter 19
Kruger stood on the edge of the mine watching production. What with the accidents and deaths and the desertion, there were barely twenty workers left, yet production was up for the first time in weeks.
Putting Yates to work proved a masterstroke. He was strung out and the promise of a couple of pills to ease his pain worked wonders. The young man took to overseeing like an Irishman to whiskey. There must have been a Simon Legree somewhere in Yates’ ancestry because he pushed the locals around like a school bully. Best of all, thought Kruger, he didn’t have to pay him--Yates’ only remuneration being a handful of Tramadol.
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