The Turn Series Box Set

by Andrew Clawson

  Which could be true, but what animal? Regardless, faces around her grew less strained, and one of them even cracked a joke before the blond guide spoke up. “If you will follow me inside the enclosure, there are more elephants of all ages to—”

  A deafening cry cut him off. Sarah’s feet trembled as the biggest elephant yet stormed out of the enclosure, bellowing all the while.

  “Is that the dominant male?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes,” the older guide said, walking up to join his colleague. “And those are the baby elephants.” A trio of miniature pachyderms filed out after their leader, headed straight for what Sarah guessed was an adult female. The guide grabbed a radio clipped to his belt. “I will go and check the enclosure perimeter,” he said to his partner. “It could be a wild animal made it into the area.”

  One of the scientists spoke up. “Do you mean like a stray dog?”

  The man shrugged as he walked off. “It has happened before.”

  Another elephant came out of the enclosure as darkness swallowed the departing dark-haired guide. “Follow me, please.”

  The remaining guide gestured toward the enclosure. “The entrance is this way.”

  Sarah fell in line with the rest of the researchers, the blank look on her face at odds with a knot forming in her stomach. Her chest rattled when one elephant thundered into the water, sending up a spray before turning to run back out. Unusual behavior given the sun wasn’t out; for the life of her Sarah couldn’t explain what had made him do it.

  “You think there is a problem?” Joe asked her quietly.

  “Not at all,” Sarah lied. “The guide’s right. There may be a stray dog around here, a new animal the elephants aren’t used to. They’re reacting naturally.”

  Joe gave her an odd sideways look but said nothing. They walked on. Cool air enveloped them inside the enclosure, which did resemble a massive, empty turtle shell. The dozens of skylights were merely dark holes in the vast ceiling now, the interior lit by muted spotlights casting wide pools of weak light. In here no wind rustled the trees, and it seemed the half-dozen elephants weren’t agitated like their comrades outside.

  “There aren’t any support columns in here,” Sarah said. “The whole inside is wide open.”

  “It mimics the forest environment,” the bearded guide said. “Excellent observation.”

  The radio crackled on his waist, and he grabbed it. “I read you.”

  The older guide’s voice came through loud and clear. “I checked the entire perimeter of the enclosure,” he said. “There is nothing out here.”

  The knot in Sarah’s stomach loosened. It had probably been just a stray after all that had spooked the elephants. With all the noise and ground-stomping, whatever it was had to be a mile away by now.

  “Good to know,” his blond partner said. “We are in the enclosure.”

  “I’ll be right—”

  The radio cut off in a burst of static.

  “Come in.” The blond guide frowned, shook his radio. “What did you say?” He tried again to raise his colleague without success. “Oh well,” he said, clipping the radio to his belt. “Everyone, it is time to leave the elephants alone for the night. Please follow me to our next stop, which is—”

  “Did you hear that?” Alarmed, Joe walked back toward the entrance, one hand cupped around an ear. “It sounded like a person.”

  “I heard it.” Bonnie, hidden near the back of the group, stood rooted to the ground as she spoke. “A man. It sounded like a scream.”

  Chapter 6

  Outside of Mwanza, Tanzania

  May 21st

  Dirt and stones flew as Reed hit the gas pedal, racing toward the noise, toward the battle cry that had set his heart racing. Maasai warriors didn’t have guns, so if they’d run across a group of poachers they’d be massacred. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  They crested a hill and saw empty grasslands stretching ahead.

  “Did it come from this way?” Reed asked.

  “I thought so.” Paul leaned out of his window. “Slow down. We must listen.”

  Locating sound was difficult out here with the undulating ground. Reed shut off the engine and leaned outside, straining to catch anything hidden between the rustle of grass and the clicking engine.

  Another cry sounded from behind them. “Get in,” he shouted. The engine turned, tires spun, and they headed toward the noise. He was certain this time.

  Back over the hill he veered toward the brush, racing through thick shrubs on a track choked with green and brown foliage. “Hang on.” The track narrowed and Reed’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. He held his foot steady on the gas as they burst through a curtain of leaves and into the open. Not a hundred yards ahead, Maasai warriors stood circled around a tree. Spears flashed in the sunlight.

  “There is another car,” Paul shouted.

  It was far ahead of them, obscured by the umbrella-like branches. As they approached, it spun in a circle and vanished, lost in a massive dust cloud roiling toward the sky. No time to chase it now. The Land Rover bucked and jostled as Reed drove straight to the Maasai.

  As Reed expected, it was Olekina’s tribe. He skidded to a halt beside the warriors and Reed jumped out.

  “What happened?” he asked, speaking in Swahili. “Are those surveyors?”

  “No.” Olekina’s spear thumped the ground. “Those are killers with guns. They came here to kill Maasai or the lions.”

  “Lions have been here,” Paul said. “I have seen them.”

  “You think they were poachers?” Reed asked Olekina, and the warrior said he did. “You can’t fight armed men. Paul and I will go after them.”

  “I will stay with the Maasai,” Paul said. “Leave me a rifle.”

  “And let them circle back to take all of you out? No chance.”

  “What if the poachers return before we do?” Paul pointed at the emptiness all around. “The Maasai will die. If I am here, they will have a chance.”

  The kid had a point. “Fine. Take a pistol and a rifle. I won’t be long.”

  Once Paul had armed himself and slammed the rear hatch shut again, Reed sped off in pursuit. The poachers had a head start, but the dust cloud still hanging in the air was better than a map. Reed gritted his teeth as he bounced over the rough terrain, going airborne once or twice when he sped over a rise, accelerating until he caught sight of the vehicle ahead.

  Wind roared through the car, muffling out any sound beyond the screaming engine. As he drove into the afternoon sun, he barely noticed when his passenger mirror vanished, didn’t see anything other than poachers getting away. Only when he’d closed within a hundred yards and two holes appeared in his hood did he realize the sparks coming from ahead weren’t caused by the blazing sunlight.

  They were shooting at him.

  Bullets whined past his window as he swerved right and then left. Rapid-fire flashes were coming from the passenger side of the vehicle, where Reed could see a man leaning from the window, rifle in hand. Likely a Kalashnikov, which was deadly in close quarters but not much good now.

  As the gap between them closed, Reed pushed a button on his dash and the center console lowered to reveal a hidden compartment where Reed kept two loaded pistols. The bumps and jolts subsided as he hit a relatively flat patch of ground, so Reed leaned out of his window, closed one eye and started firing back.

  He didn’t hurry, resetting his aim with each shot. The third bullet felt good and the poachers’ back windshield, now fifty yards ahead, shattered into a spider’s web. The automatic fire from ahead ceased, and the gunman nearly fell out the window as the driver twisted away, aiming for a rising hill.

  Again and again Reed fired without much luck. It did the trick, though, for the poachers offered only wild shots in return, none coming close to the Land Rover. As the poachers’ vehicle crested the tall hill, its tires all cleared the ground enough for dark blue sky to be seen between them and the waving grasses. Reed eased off the gas
. Taking this jump at full speed was asking for a broken axle.

  The poachers lucked out. By the time Reed made it over the hill, they’d put considerable distance between their vehicle and his. He grabbed the reserve pistol when his first one ran out of ammunition and continued shooting. Sparks showered from the poachers’ roof, sending the gunman who’d leaned out back inside, only to dart out of the opposite window and resume firing.

  Reed needed to hit a tire. Disable the vehicle and those poachers would be stuck. Then he could call Chief Nixon for support, staying out of the Kalashnikov’s range while keeping the poachers in sight until reinforcements arrived and hauled these two dirt-bags off to jail.

  Reed slammed a new magazine into his pistol and chambered a round. He looked up, leveled the gun at a tire, then realized nobody was firing back. That made him nervous. Where was the shooter?

  A head popped out of the poachers’ car, now thirty yards ahead. The wheel fought Reed with every jolt, trying to pull him off course as he pulled nearly level with the poachers and took aim at their tires. Suddenly the man in the passenger seat leaned out, reared back and threw something at him. What the hell? Had they run out of bullets? He blinked, and the ground exploded.

  Fire blasted like a volcano erupting, and a hail of dirt and stones filled the Land Rover. Smoke clouded Reed’s eyes and searing air washed over his face. He dropped the pistol and clutched his eyes, letting go of the wheel and nearly flipping the vehicle as tears streamed down his face.

  Had he hit a land mine? He looked over through a haze of smoke and tears and saw the poacher shouting, wild-eyed, as he clapped his hands together and drew his arm back. Reed was so close now he could see the green ball cupped in the man’s palm.

  Oh, shit. They had grenades.

  The poacher threw another one straight for Reed’s open passenger window. Reed jammed on the brakes and his seat belt grabbed him as the car skidded, the grenade zooming past his windshield in a blur. Reed closed his eyes and ducked.

  The explosion rocked his Land Rover, heat and smoke washing over him a second time as Reed gasped for breath. Once he’d coughed through the worst of it and could finally see again, he lifted his head to look out the window and realized the poachers had vanished. Thank goodness. Two grenades were all he could handle right now.

  After getting his bearings, he raced back to Paul and the Maasai. He needed to tell Chief Ereng about this, warn him the poachers had even more firepower. He also needed the policeman’s counsel. Why use grenades to poach? It didn’t make sense. Dead animals were valuable for their parts: ivory, skins, claws or bones. That’s what sold on the black market. There was no profit in blowing them to bits.

  A weight lifted from his chest when Paul and the Maasai warriors came into view, upright and all still breathing. They surrounded his battered Land Rover, the questions coming all at once as he creaked to a stop.

  “I’m fine,” he said. Briefly, he detailed the encounter to Olekina and his men. “Warn your tribesmen. The poachers have grenades and who knows what else. If you see them, run away. Those grenades kill men, women and children alike. Just get away.”

  “Maasai do not run.” The fire flashed across Olekina’s face. “We will be safe in our camp. The land protects us as we have protected it. And now we are working together, you and me. The poachers will not win.”

  This man was either the bravest or most foolish chief in Tanzania, Reed thought grimly. Either way, though, those poachers had a fight coming.

  “Damn right they won’t,” he replied. He turned to find Paul watching the horizon, rifle ready. “Get in. We have to go now,” he told Olekina. “I’ll be in touch after we look into this. Will you be here?” Maasai were semi-nomadic; finding them wasn’t easy.

  Olekina nodded. “For as long as the sun shines and the stars watch over us.” With that, he turned and loped off, leading the warriors toward their homes and families.

  Chapter 7

  Zurich, Switzerland

  May 21st

  This time everyone heard the scream.

  Bonnie spoke first. “I believe that was our other guide,” she said.

  The blond guide grabbed his radio. “Come in. What is out there?” No response. “Perhaps he has injured himself,” he said uncertainly.

  Sarah caught the fear in his voice. “Call security,” she said. “You have a control room, don’t you?” The guide nodded. “Your security team can check surveillance cameras and see what happened.” Accidents or emergencies happened anywhere, and the zoo wasn’t an exception. She’d dealt with situations like this. “If he has injured himself, we’ll need to make sure he’s safe.”

  “I will go look for him,” Joe said. “If he is injured, I can help.”

  “Do you think splitting up is the right thing to do?” Bonnie folded her hands, speaking in even, level tones.

  “I’ll go with Joe,” Sarah said. “Everyone else stay here and try to raise the security team.” She looked to the guide. “How many of them are on duty?”

  “Three officers,” the guide said. “The two of us are also caretakers for the animals, but we are here with you right now. That is everyone.”

  “Get security on the radio and find out what’s going on. Joe and I will check on the other guide.” She headed toward the exit before anyone could argue. “Everybody stay together. We’re still in a zoo with wild animals.”

  Sarah jogged through the entrance with Joe following close behind. She blinked rapidly outside, waiting for her eyes to adjust in the darkness, the grounds all blurs and shadows in the weak moonlight. A chill raced up her sleeve when the cool breeze snuck under it and tickled her arm.

  Sarah opened her mouth as an elephant cried. It was starting again. Trumpeting with all his might, the largest bull went up on two legs not thirty feet from her and thundered down, shaking the ground. Joe’s hand found her shoulder.

  “What is this?”

  She opted for the raw truth this time. “I’ve only seen it once before. A dog got into the elephant area and ran near the baby elephants. One of the bulls did that, got up and stomped the ground, and the dog took off like a missile. If there is something out there, it should be gone by now.”

  “They are quite frightening.”

  Sarah agreed. She narrowed her eyes against the darkness and led Joe onward. “The guide likely came this way,” she said. “He’d have followed this path and gone around their enclosure.”

  “Would he have gone in with the elephants?”

  “No. That’s asking to be killed.” Sarah picked up the pace, forcing Joe to jog to keep up as she rounded one side of the outdoor enclosure and looped around toward the rear.

  “Are you sure he went this way?”

  “It’s what I would have done,” Sarah said. “The elephants are coming outside, which makes me think whatever’s bothering them is out here. Watch your step. The light’s not good this far from the main path.” Weak puddles of light dotted the gravel walkway, an area meant for maintenance and animal care workers to access the paddock’s hard-to-reach areas. “I don’t have a—”

  A shadow darted across her vision.

  “What did you say?” Joe asked.

  “Quiet.” She grabbed his arm, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Don’t move.” He tensed up but kept quiet.

  They stood motionless, listening and watching. Something had flashed across the path, low to the ground, there and gone in an instant. Damn this piss-poor light. She could hardly even see the elephants in the murky gloom. Sarah strained her ears for any stray noise as her eyes adjusted to the night. She blinked, and the shadow flitted across the path further ahead, moving away from them.

  “There’s something moving down the path,” she whispered. “I saw it twice.” Her companion huddled close. “Stay close behind me.”

  A pool of light fell on them, and Sarah moved toward the edge of a darkness replete with murky half-formed shapes. She licked her lips with a sandpaper tongue. As she stepped toward th
e next pool of light, she stumbled and pitched forward. Arms wheeling for balance, Sarah nearly fell headlong into the dirt, catching herself with one hand an instant before she tumbled.

  “Watch out,” she hissed. “There’s something on the path.” Joe didn’t respond. Sarah stood, wiping the dirt off her hands. When she looked down, the dirt had streaked black across her clothes. “What the hell is—”

  Joe backed away. “It is a body.”

  Sarah looked back at her hands. That wasn’t dirt. It was blood. A black stain spread across the ground, blood turned pitch-dark in the moonlight, all spilling from their older guide’s chest.

  “He’s shot.” Sarah dropped to her knees and reached for the man’s throat, checking for a pulse. “His heart has stopped.” Sarah’s windpipe grew tight. “Get me a light.”

  Joe’s phone lit up the space, showing the parallel gouges running across the guide’s chest, from his chin to his waist. A chunk of flesh was missing between his shoulder and neck. Sarah had seen injuries like these before, but not on humans.

  “He’s been attacked by something with very sharp teeth,” she whispered.

  Joe gasped. “An animal escaped?”

  “Possibly. Get back to the enclosure and warn them.”

  Joe pointed his light at the path and began to move hurriedly back towards the enclosure.

  Sarah’s heart was pounding. What could have done this? The guides had said there were camels, yaks, lemurs, elephants. There were other animals, too, but none large or predatory enough to trouble humans. What the hell was going on here? She turned to follow Joe back to the elephant enclosure and then stopped in her tracks.