Two shining pinpoints of light shone, unmoving, in the darkness ahead of her. Sarah kept still. Everything in her being screamed at her to run, because she knew those eyes. A deep, throaty growl from the darkness sent ice through her heart. A wolf’s growl.
It blinked, then vanished into the shadows.
“He’s coming!” Sarah shouted. She raced up behind Joe and grabbed his arm, hauling him along with her. “Run!” she screamed. There was a sound of claws scrabbling in the dirt behind them. Joe’s arm slipped from her grasp, the cell phone light flipping end over end as it tumbled free. His fingers brushed Sarah’s arm as he fell, shouting in a language she didn’t understand. She turned as a long, dark shape materialized from the shadows, its teeth glistening in the faint moonlight as it snarled and hunched over its prey. Joe’s strangled cry was cut short.
Too late to help him now. Sarah turned and ran, her chest heaving and her feet scarcely touching the path as she rounded a turn and scrambled for the elephants’ turtle-shaped dome.
How the hell had a wolf gotten in here? Could it have come down from the mountains? She had to warn the surviving guide and get a rescue team out here. As soon as it finished with Joe, the wolf would start going after the smaller animals, easy targets stuck behind fencing and bars. The zoo was an open market.
Sarah reached the enclosure and banged on the door, throwing her weight against it and screaming. There was the sound of a bolt sliding and the door swung inward. Sarah’s legs gave way and she fell on all fours to the dirt and concrete floor.
The blond guide reached down and grabbed her arm. She could feel his hands shaking. “Get up,” he shouted. “We have to go.” He hauled Sarah to her feet and she yanked her arm from his grasp.
“There’s a wolf out there,” she said. “It killed your friend and Joe.”
The blonde guide froze, rooted to the spot. The other scientists stood huddled in a circle behind him. “How?” one of them asked.
“Claws and teeth,” she said. “How wolves normally kill things. Call security and get them out here before more people die.”
The guide finally responded. “Too late. There’s another one.” He shook his head and seemed to pull it together.
“We must go,” he said. “Before anyone else is hurt. It already bit one of your colleagues.”
Only after they started moving did Sarah see the deep gash on a fellow researcher’s arm. Torn cloth strips bound the wound.
Sarah followed the guide, then realized they were alone. Everyone else remained huddled in a circle. “Come on,” she said. Nobody moved. “If you stay in here, you’ll die.”
That got them moving. Sarah kept pace with the blond guide while keeping one eye on her research team. “Is everyone with us?” The guide said they were. “Wolves are opportunistic hunters,” she said. “They’ll go for the weak or injured first.”
The guide led them straight toward the elephant perimeter, a high rock wall marking the area’s outer limits. Lights dotted the gravel walkway, soft pools pushing away the night as their group raced on, footsteps crunching in a terrified drumbeat of retreat. But they were running to a dead end. Sarah skidded to a halt as they reached the wall. Gravel paths led off on both sides, curving along the wall and then vanishing into the gloom.
“Which way?” she asked.
“Straight ahead,” the guide shouted. Greenery covered this part of the rock wall face, but he reached into the plants and tore them aside to reveal a hidden gate. “This gives us access to every part of the zoo without going through public areas. We can get to the security team’s facility more quickly through here.”
Keys rattled as the guide fumbled to unlock the door. It swung open, revealing cavernous darkness. “The switch is a few steps in.” The guide looked back, waving to the group gathered behind him. “Come quickly.”
A flash of movement just behind the guide caught Sarah’s eye. She opened her mouth as the guide slammed into her, then tumbled over and flipped onto his back. There was an ear-splitting snarl and Sarah leapt back as a wolf hit him at full speed, sinking its teeth into the guide’s head. The man screamed, twisting and jerking to get away as guttural growls filled the air.
Sarah drew her fist back and punched the wolf’s nose with all her might. The wolf yelped, falling back on its haunches and snapping razor-sharp teeth inches from her arm before returning to the guide, who was sprawled in the gravel. Someone behind her grabbed her shirt and dragged her across the pathway, back toward the tunnel gate.
“It’s closed,” one of the women cried, her voice nearly a sob as she yanked on the gate, furiously rattling it back and forth. “The wolf hit it shut.”
Sarah looked up and down the paths, and then raised her arm and beckoned to the group. “Follow me,” she said. She gave one last glance back at the wolf, which was twisting the guide’s neck with vicious bites. Nothing would save him now.
The grisly noises grew fainter as Sarah led her colleagues to the crossroads. She stopped and stared down the pathway back toward the elephants, and then realized with a sick feeling of horror that half the group had begun running blindly back toward the elephant building. Back toward the first wolf.
“Come back!” she screamed, but they were already rounding the bend. Whirling around, she addressed the remaining scientists. “People, I need you to listen to me now. Stay together and follow me. From now on, we don’t split up.”
“Perhaps the security team will be there for them,” Bonnie said, looking down the pathway where the first group had fled. Of all of them, she seemed the least spooked. Maybe after seven decades you didn’t scare as easily, Sarah thought.
“We’d better hope they are,” Sarah said. “All right, everybody move. We’re going to follow that group to the elephant paddock. We don’t have a choice. I’ll bring up the rear.”
She stood aside and, once everyone had run past her, she brought up the rear, her top speed limited to that of the slowest person. Now moving at not much more than a jog, the group forged ahead and reached the elephant paddock. There was no sign of any more wolves. They ducked inside the turtle shell to find the rest of their group clustered in a close circle.
“Is anyone hurt?” Sarah asked as she closed the door.
“My arm,” the wounded researcher said. “That’s it.”
A massive bull elephant appeared on the other side of a chest-high fence, stopping not ten feet from them. Sarah looked up at it and then back at the researcher.
“Let me check your arm,” she said. “You’ll need the rabies vaccine.” She unwrapped the bandages, prodding the wound here and there. “I think you’ll be fine. Stitches, of course, but probably no nerve damage. You’re lucky.”
She re-wrapped the arm and the man thanked her. Her response was drowned out as the bull beside her loosed a thunderous cry. The animal turned and pounded away, galloping for the far entrance as a cold fist gripped Sarah’s chest, squeezing the air out. All that noise meant one thing.
A wolf had entered the paddock.
As though confirming her fears, a woman at the edge of the group began to scream. “It’s back,” she shouted, thankfully in English. “Get away.”
“Stay together,” Sarah shouted. “They won’t attack if we huddle close to each other.” A guess on her part, but they didn’t know that. “Stand tall. Everybody raise your arms and make noise.” Everyone obeyed, hands going to the sky as the scientists gave their best war cries.
The din was deafening. The human shouts and elephant trumpets bounced off the dome overhead, a cacophonous assault that felt like it would split her eardrums. Sarah scanned the enclosure, pacing around the group and making sure they stayed tight.
And then she saw it. Out of the shadows, the wolf appeared, slinking toward them with fangs bared. It stopped momentarily, ears pricking, when the elephant reared up and pounded back down, but then its steady onward march resumed.
The wolf was massive. It moved with deadly grace, past a trash receptacle that w
as higher than Sarah’s waist. She watched in awe as the wolf cleared it by nearly a foot. This was one of the biggest wolves she’d ever seen, its corded muscles rolling beneath short, dark fur that looked almost velvety as it assessed the prey.
That’s what they’d become. Prey. But why did the wolf still hunt them? If it was hungry, one kill should have more than sufficed. As Sarah worked to keep their group close together, an elephant trumpeted outside the dome. The hair rose on her neck as she turned.
The second wolf waited in the entrance behind them.
[The scientists began to jostle and Sarah sensed that they were on the verge of panic.]
“Everybody stop.” Sarah raised her arms and used her most commanding tone. She looked at each of them in turn, willing them to stay calm and quiet. This was no time for a frightened person to run blindly away. “Stay still now. We can’t run.”
A woman at the group’s far end started speaking in French, a rapid, incomprehensible torrent, though the fear in her voice needed no translation. Eyes wide, she backed away from the group, hands clasped in front of her mouth. Sarah shouted at her to stop, but the woman kept moving, walking farther away from safety.
The wolf charged, a missile of bristly fur and glistening teeth, eyes yellow and unblinking as it leapt. The woman was crushed to the ground with the sheer force of the hurtling beast, which shook her like a rag doll as its teeth sank into her throat.
A sixth sense made Sarah tear her eyes away from the carnage: the other wolf had vanished. Eyes wide, she whipped her head around. Where the hell had it gone?
“To your right,” Bonnie shouted, pointing. About fifteen yards away from them, the second wolf crouched, the fur bristling along its back as it prepared to spring.
“Go toward the elephant,” she shouted to the group, herding them with her arms. “Stay together.”
Moving as one, the scientists began inching closer to the elephant, their eyes fixed on Sarah, now standing apart from the group.
The wolf growled and sprang toward her. Sarah stepped back, one arm up, ready to dodge. She could smell the wolf’s foul, meaty breath, feel the spray of its spittle. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a light flashing. She forced her gaze to the front again and looked up, almost mesmerized, into the wolf’s hot yellow eyes.
And then, like a flame being snuffed out, the wolf’s eyes closed, opened again, and then with a yelp of surprise, the beast stumbled and crashed down, its forward momentum carrying it the rest of the way over the path until it stopped a few feet from her. Only then did she hear the security team’s shouts. Men with rifles ran toward her. One man yanked her aside, the butt of his rifle banging her stomach and knocking the wind from her gut as she fell back. Sarah doubled over and sank down, one hand on the ground and one on her stomach. The ground was wet, blood spreading beneath the dead wolf. It was a massive beast – far larger than any wolf she’d ever seen. Sarah gulped air and stared in fascination at the gigantic shaggy body, its vacant yellow eyes giving it an otherworldly menace even in death.
Chapter 8
Dodoma, Tanzania
May 21st
The Land Rover’s hood slammed down with a bang. Reed’s mechanic, who was also a safari aide and the camp munitions expert, wiped his greasy hands on an already dirty rag, careful not to get any on his spotless Kimble Safaris shirt.
“The engine is great, boss. It is the outside which is not right.”
Reed stuck one hand through the missing windshield like a magician about to perform a trick. “If we get new glass all around, a mirror and some metalwork, it’ll be good as new?”
“It will be a car that survived a grenade battle,” the man said. “It is better than new.”
That got a chuckle out of Reed. “Thanks. Let me know when it’s up and running.” He raised a hand against the sun’s final rays, looking across his facilities, now backlit by a sliver of red about to fall beneath the horizon. “I’ll be in my office.”
Wood smoke curled from a chimney topping the mess hall. The rich scent of roasted meat drew Reed in for a plate of food, which he took back to his office. The building doubled as his living quarters, a small suite attached to the rooms where he did the books, handled supply orders, and coordinated the myriad other needs of a safari outfit. Of everything in the orderly but crowded office, perhaps the most indispensable was a small refrigerator tucked out of sight behind his desk.
Cold beer might not solve problems, he knew, but it made dealing with them a hell of a lot easier. Properly situated with a drink, he greeted his three dogs and tossed each a choice morsel of grilled meat before checking emails and phone messages with one hand while eating with the other. His mother had sent a message from the States, long and detailed as usual. Her only child had uprooted from Montana and ended up across an ocean on a continent few Americans visited and even fewer understood. Of course she worried, even as he approached forty.
Reed stopped chewing when he got to the end of her message. His father was well and sent his regards. Same as last time, and the time before that. Always through his wife. Chances were Dad didn’t know his email address. Of course, if asked, he’d say it was because Reed didn’t need two parents pestering him all the time and leave it at that. And of course, no email was complete without the last line: Know anyone who’s interested in taking over the business? Your father’s not as young as he used to be.
Reed dropped his sandwich and polished off the beer. No, Mom, I don’t. He grabbed another cold one. As if I don’t know how he feels about me “playing at business” in Tanzania. Reed drained the beer in short order.
When the last email had been answered and his plate cleaned – Mom would be happy – he kicked his feet up on the desk and cracked another cold one. His conversation with Chief Ereng sprang to mind, bringing with it more questions than answers. Ereng hadn’t heard of poachers in the area, and certainly not any using grenades. Same with the other members of their NTSCIU team. During Reed’s recounting of the battle, Ereng raised the same question as Reed, namely why poachers would carry grenades. It made no sense. Poachers didn’t want to destroy animals, just kill them, sell their parts, make money and repeat. That’s what poachers did.
At a loss for who these men were and what they wanted, Nixon Ereng had promised to contact those higher up the governmental ladder and get back to Reed. Until then, the only thing Ereng could do was increase patrols and stay in touch with the Maasai. Thankfully there wasn’t a safari group coming to his camp until the week’s end, so Reed had time to attack this problem head-on.
But it was a problem for tomorrow. He and Paul could handle it better after a good night’s rest. It wasn’t every day grenades came their way. While Paul had jumped at the chance to get out again and find out who those men were, Reed had a few years and a lot of mileage on his employee and disagreed. Putting himself in harm’s way was one thing. He chose to do it for many reasons, and he could live with the consequences. Taking Paul along to face who knew what kind of weaponry was another story. Teenagers thought themselves invincible right up to the point they were proven wrong. Reed recalled the awesome, hollow power of youth. He’d also seen how it could end badly. No need to let Paul learn his lesson the hard way.
After promising his mother everything was fine and that he was happy and turning a profit in Tanzania, Reed’s eyes grew heavy. He drained the beer and kicked his boots off before heading to bed, wooden boards creaking beneath his feet. Before closing his eyes, he checked that the pistol in his bedside drawer was loaded, safety on, with an extra magazine next to it. With that cold metal comfort close at hand and his dogs on the floor nearby, sleep overtook him in seconds.
Reed’s eyes fluttered open to a bedroom bathed in white moonlight. The clock on his nightstand glowed green. Just past three in the morning. Why had he wakened? Had a door banged open, one of the men working late, or had one of the dogs growled? A quick check revealed all three dogs in their beds along one wall. Each one was awake, however, and l
ooking at Reed.
But there was no way they had all looked up when he stirred. Doc, maybe. But Rico and Cinder? Those two didn’t do more than open their eyes until Reed got out of bed. Which meant these guys weren’t looking at him. Their gazes were fixed on the window behind Reed, which was reason enough for him to check it.
Tree branches danced like skeletal arms outside. Spotlights illuminated the compound and bathed the grasslands in a luminescent glow. Each continent of light was surrounded by an ocean of darkness, shadows enough to cover anyone careful enough to stay off the lighted dry land. Reed’s gun chilled his palm as he slid out of bed and inched toward the window, staying low.
Soft paws padded across the hardwood to join him. Rico and Cinder took positions on either side, squatting on their haunches when he rose to peer outside. Doc didn’t move; his ears perked up and his eyes were wide open, but his butt remained firmly in bed. Trained in both English and Swahili commands, Doc didn’t move unless Reed ordered it. No need to put him on alert when chances were a stray animal or employee was out there and they’d all be back in bed shortly.
Reed twitched the curtain aside. Nothing moved outside other than darkness playing tricks on his eyes. Tall grass rustled beneath a soft breeze and a clear night sky. No, there was nothing out there, man nor beast. Maybe a door had come unlatched or a shutter had slipped open. With a rueful eye on his bed, Reed crept toward the door, still staying low.
“Doc, come.” The whispered command brought Doc to his side in a flash. When he closed the bedroom door behind him, Rico and Cinder made their way to the room’s threshold and watched their friend and master depart with undisguised sadness. Reed didn’t have to turn and see it; he knew it because they were like children to him, and that’s why he left them behind, safe and secure in the bedroom. Doc was a trained companion, not a social one, and that training could save Reed’s life. Rico and Cinder, lovable as they were, let their emotions run unchecked and could be killed by a predator. Doc listened, never putting himself or his master in danger unless it was life or death.
The Turn Series Box Set Page 17