Predator Island

by Douglas Cameron

  The grizzly was released on the mountain and in search of food and water found itself in the rainforest and, like the black bear, was – at least for the present time – satisfied although the heat was a little too much.

  Hyma, the caracal, had been the busiest of the animals that first night. Almost right away she had spotted the cougar and knew that it was strange. Nothing like that in her home in India. There were tigers, but they had stripes – this big animal didn’t. So she moved quickly away to the west stopping for the moment in her quest for water, which she could smell. Then there had been that man – she knew men and knew that there were small men and big men. Small men would be good food, but this man was too big. She let him pass and then continued on west. There she had encountered the seawall of rocks and beyond that water, but water she could not drink. She moved north and stayed fairly close to the rock hill which she could climb quickly if needed but sensed it would provide nothing for her. She then made her first kill – a small rodent – which she grabbed by the back of the neck and broke its spine killing it. The kill was quickly devoured and at least partially satisfied her needs. Continuing on around the hill she came to the big pool at the bottom. Other animals had been there but no smell that she knew. Approaching the pool semi-cautiously because this was a strange land and strange lands meant strange customs, she lapped the water up, stopping every few laps to check her surroundings. She knew by the sounds that she had heard earlier that there were big animals here. One she knew – the tiger. She knew that she should stay away from that one. Her thirst satisfied, Hyma returned to her clockwise circuit of the island staying near the water on her left because that served as a barrier against a hunter such as she. This would be different because this would be a hunter hunting her. Sometimes she ran and sometimes she walked. Once she paused to make another kill – a small rodent like the first and she was beginning to feel her hunger sated. To her right the sky was beginning to lighten, and she knew that her hunting was fleeting. She loved the night and slept during the day when it was hotter – at least where she had been born and spent her first year. Then she had been trapped and put in a cage for a long time until – well, until she woke up here, in the cage but alone. Then the door to the cage had opened and she had raced out and begun exploring.

  Soon in her progress, she smelled some familiar or almost familiar things and she moved along and soon entered the fringes of the rainforest. The smells and night sounds were similar to those of her home. At the base of one tree right on the outside of the forest she paused, smelling a white thing that lay there. She pawed at it playfully, curiously. It moved when she touched it but then stopped. Whatever it was, it wasn’t alive and would provide no sustenance for her. She looked up and saw that this tree had limbs and concealing foliage, ideal for her to hide and sleep during the day. Quickly she climbed the tree and until she was about twenty feet up and found a limb upon which she could lie down upon and sleep. She settled herself in, listening to the sounds of night birds. The sounds were strange but comforting and soon she fell asleep, content and purring.

  Chapter 7

  It was almost as soon as the first trace of an orange-rose – or is it rose-orange? – cloud shone in the eastern sky when dawn came, and it cracked. Actually it was a rifle shot and Gerallt was up like a rabbit, eyes and ears alert. He knew that the sound had come from the northeast side of the island but why he did not know.

  The occupation troops were quartered in the barracks where the workers had been housed because there was not room in the Vulcan’s Roost Headquarters. It had been made specially to house the Bundle and attendants and no more. The invaders had their own cook and supplies had been dropped by aircraft the morning after they landed. They were carried by truck back and forth from the entrance to the volcano. Because the predators were to be released on the island, the troops had constructed a fence surrounding their compound and sentries had been assigned. The troops had been understandably upset knowing that hungry predators were prowling the island and even more upset when they were told they were not permitted to kill the beasts.

  “What are the men to do if they are attacked by one of the beasts?” General Gutierrez had asked Esteves.

  “Tell them to run like the cowards they are,” Esteves had answered.

  Of course, that would not have been a proper thing to do, so General Gutierrez simply told the men, they should run. Despite the edict that the troops should not shoot the beasts and run if attacked, they walked their sentry posts armed. And, just as naturally, if one is on guard against an invasion, one walks a post outside the fence.

  This particular morning, João Oliveira (Soldado 21) was on guard and had been since midnight. He was nearing the south end of the compound’s perimeter fencing when his cellphone rang. He was surprised by this because they did not have cell service. Still all the men carried their cellphones because to be without it would be like cutting off an appendage or even worse, one’s pênis. João set his rifle down butt first, holding the barrel in his left hand while he fished in his fatigue pocket for his cellphone. His attention was diverted for only fifteen seconds, but it was enough for Val Killer, the black leopard. He had been lying in wait for over an hour watching as João walked his beat. As soon as the leopard realized that his prey’s guard had been dropped, he attacked and was on João before João realized that he was being attacked. João had time only for a brief shout before the leopard sank his fangs into João’s neck. At that point there was nothing that João could do. With his prey lifeless, the leopard commenced to drag the body away.

  His ultimate goal was to get the body to the rainforest and cache it in a tree but, hunger overcoming nature, after covering about a hundred yards and still with fifty to go to the security of the rainforest, the leopard paused to satisfy his hunger. He had been at it only ten minutes when Victor Alonso, officer of the watch, came to see why João had not checked in on schedule. He did not find João, but he did find his weapon and cellphone. He raised the alarm and the troops poured out fearing they were being attacked by some aggressive force summoned to counter their invasion. When organized, they set out in pairs to look for João and it was Lucas Molina (Soldado 30) who spotted the panther at his feast at the same time the panther spotted him. Natural instinct on the panther’s part was to run dragging his prey and on Lucas’s part it was to shoot. Both started what their instinct said to do, and Lucas was just a hair too fast with his shot and missed. The leopard took the hint and quickly disappeared into the rainforest with a partially satisfied hunger. Lucas and his partner Kaua Costa (Soldado 32) walked up to the body lying on the ground and Lucas turned away and managed to walk ten feet before vomiting the remains of last night’s dinner, which were still in his stomach. When informed of the incident, General Gutierrez simply doubled the guard.

  Because all the predators were being monitored by the chip in the back of their necks, Horus had been watching the panther watching João and had made João’s phone ring. When the panther had started dragging João’s body toward the rainforest, Horus’s count of the invading force’s number dropped to 31 and crossed off Soldado 21.

  On top of Colina da Roche, Gerallt knew none of this but suspected that one of the predators had done something that it shouldn’t, and he smiled. Despite the fact that the predators were out to get him, he was on their side against the forces of Esteves and would only kill if necessary. Alerted that it was a new day, he began to plan his descent. While swimming inside the hill awaiting the drone’s return, Gerallt had taken a mouthful of the water and swallowed it. Feeling no ill effects at this point, his first goal of the day was to find the water he had heard falling and to satisfy his thirst. So he walked around the edge of the mesa again until he located the point where he heard the sound the loudest, and there he lay down and peered over the top of the mesa. He was fortunate with the early morning sun which was beginning to shine on that portion of the hill and he could see the water coming out of the hill and cascading down. Standing
up, he looked carefully over the edge on both sides of the water and chose a path of descent. It wasn’t as easy going down as it had been going up and it was a good half an hour before he reached the first pool. He lay on his stomach and had just drunk as much as he felt he should in this first drink after so long when his senses tingled. Looking up his eyes spotted what his senses had warned him about. On the opposite side of the pool was a jaguar that was sizing him up as its next meal.

  “Oh, no,” Ramiro said. “Zere ez another catz after him. You zink he going to survivez?”

  “I don’t know,” Issaack answered.” I hope so, he thought and had fingers crossed at least mentally.

  Chapter 8

  Gerallt knew that el Tigre could swim and that if he ran, the jaguar would be upon him quickly. So when the jaguar sprang, Gerallt did the only thing he could do – he dove into the pool hoping he had judged its depth properly. In the water, he stopped himself and looked up. El Tigre was swimming across the pool and was just beyond him. With the knife in his right hand and using the left and both legs to propel him upward, he thrust the knife into the jaguar’s rib cage as hard as he could and with his left arm grabbed the body having in mind to pull it under and drown it. What Gerallt had not judged was the speed of the outflow of the pool and the fact that the depth of the water flowing over the lip of the pool was eighteen inches. The force of his upward thrust had carried his head and shoulders out of the pool and actually pushed el Tigre to the edge. The force of the flow then carried el Tigre and him over the edge. Gerallt felt himself falling and not knowing where he was going or whether he would survive, he hung on to the knife and el Tigre with all his might. Unbeknownst to and fortunately for him, his knife thrust had killed el Tigre instantly, otherwise a struggling cat clawing at him in midair could have be disastrous.

  “Oh, my god,” Monica screamed. “He’s going to be killed.”

  “He better live,” Ramiro said, having already lost one of his three bets and feeling very safe even if Gerallt did come after him.

  Yes, he’d better, Issaack thought.

  Gerallt hit the bottom pool right in the middle with el Tigre under him. He was stunned but not knocked out thanks to the cushioning effect of the jaguar, which most certainly was killed by the impact between the water and Gerallt’s body if it was not already dead. He and the cat went deep into the pool and, as they sank, his subconscious realized that el Tigre was dead, so he pushed it away with his left hand and pulled the knife free with his right. He wasn’t about to let go of a weapon that had saved his life twice.

  “He kill two of zoze catz,” Ramiro Esteves said, more as a statement of disbelief than as a question.

  “Apparently,” Issaack answered.

  “Where he get knife?”

  “I don’t know. The video doesn’t show.”

  “Always video?”

  “For him. You asked for video. I have no choice but to concur.”

  “What’s this ‘con•quer’?”

  “It means that if you want video, I must supply video.”

  Gerallt was running out of air and looked around and saw bright light so he swam for it, again the knife in his teeth like a pirate. He broke the surface and seized the knife, opening his mouth to draw in big gasps of air and finding himself right in the sights of a rifle.

  When Gerallt found the knife, Ramiro knew that the odds had changed. Without any weapon, Gerallt had a chance against the predators but not a very big one. With the knife, his chances improved and evidently killing the cougar raised them even more and he knew that something had to be done about it. So he made a call to General Gutierrez and told him to send some soldiers to catch Gerallt and take the knife away. Gerallt was not to be hurt unless he attacked the soldiers and even then, he should be overpowered, the knife taken away, and Gerallt released. The task was assigned to Sargento Garcia Marques (Soldado 5) who roused four volunteers and they left the compound in a pickup truck just after the body of Soldado Oliveira had been recovered. He dropped three soldiers on the north side of the Rio da Fonte (River Styx) at the (Charon) Bridge, with orders to watch for the man and to take the knife from him. He and Soldado Thiago Garcia (Soldado 22) would drive around to the other side of Colina da Rocha and climb it to look for him. Soldado Alejandro González (Soldado 20), Soldado Agustin López (Soldado 18) and Soldado Axel Martin (Soldado 17), the three soldiers left at the bridge, were surprised to see the man appear about a third of the way up from the bottom pool and make his way to the mid-pool because they had seen el Tigre approaching that pool on the other side. When they saw the man, wagering was immediately begun. When el Tigre leapt into the water followed by the man, odds quickly went up. When the two combatants fell over the side, the three started running for the pool. Uppermost in their minds was the price a nice el Tigre rug would bring back home in Venezuela where they were all from. When Gerallt surfaced, Axel thought it was el Tigre and quickly got him in his sights and fired a shot. And unthinkingly, the other two joined him in el Tigre practice.

  Pa-ching. Something hit the water next to him. Pa-ching. Something else. He looked around and saw three men advancing toward him at a run a good distance away. One stopped. Pa-ching. That was close, and he knew that was a bullet. The one who stopped was running again. Another stopped. Pa-ching. Not so close but close enough. The one who shot was running again. The one in the middle stopped and Gerallt dove under. He could see the bullet hit the water and go crazy in its motion through the water, no longer straight and not as fast. But when they were close, like standing poolside, that would change. He surfaced. PA-ching. He submerged and swan toward the back of the pool. Hitting the wall, he surfaced, gasping for air. PA-CHING. Rock splinters hit his face. Lungs full of air he went down and feeling the wall as he went found a place to grab hold. He watched a bullet zig-zag through the water right in front of him.

  “What iz he goin’ to do now?” Esteves asked.

  “Die, I suppose,” Issaack answered. “Your men are going to kill him and then where is your fun?”

  “Your men are going to kill him. Tell them to stop,” Ramiro snapped into a communicator he was carrying.

  Issaack watched in horror as the video showed blood coming up from the back of the pool. Lots of blood. The drone covering the incident changed its attitude and the video showed the three men high-fiving each other – congratulating each other on the kill. Issaack’s heart sank. He had just watched the Bundle’s one hope for stopping Ramiro’s mad plan die at the bottom of a pool, killed by Ramiro’s men.

  Then the video returned to the pool of water and everyone in the theater watched as the flow of blood from under the waterfall dissipated and the blood flowed out of the pool and downstream in the River Styx, now looking to have been named very appropriately.

  Through the heavy veil of water, Gerallt watched the three shooters being berated by someone he assumed was an officer who had arrived in a pickup just after he had gotten up into the cave room behind the falls. The three had been loafing on the edge of the pond smoking and talking about how they had killed el Tigre until the officer arrived.

  Good. Let them think I am dead. It will make their deaths easier.

  In the pool looking for salvation, he had used his handhold to pull down and toward the wall and found himself under some sort of ledge. And stuck there also was the body of the cougar he had killed the night before. It had been a desperation move to stab the already dead beast and surprisingly he had been greeted with an outpouring of blood perhaps enabled by the body being kept warm by the water. His efforts at stabbing the cougar had moved it and revealed a hole under the ledge. Having no choice and running short of air, he had entered the hole and found that it turned upward rather quickly and then he was in the open. It was dark, but the air was breathable. Looking up, he saw light and could hear the sounds of the waterfall. The hole he was in was basically tubular and was big enough so that he could climb it with the back and foot method that rock climbers use to climb chimneys. The
smooth walls were wet, but his bare feet were able to keep a grip as he used his hand to raise his torso and then walk his feet up a few inches. The climb was no more than ten feet and he did it quickly.

  Upon reaching the top, Gerallt found himself in a room. His attention had been drawn to the three soldiers that he could see through the waterfall. He watched them get chewed out by their superior who then drove off in the truck leaving them to walk, albeit slowly, back to their camp. At least they started walking slowly and then the lion roared, and the pace quickened to double time. Gerallt didn’t know the water supply of the island, but he guessed that many of the predators, as with the two he had confronted.

  Sargento Marques and Soldado Garcia were about a third of the way up the southwest side of Colina da Rocha when the first shot was fired. Good or bad, Sargento Marques didn’t know, but he knew that his men were involved. The two quickly climbed back down the hill and got into the truck and returned to the bridge. His soldiers weren’t there, and he stood on the truck’s running board and could see them on the bank of the pool at the base. Soldado Garcia drove the pickup over to the pool and stopped, the sound of the electric motor completely unnoticed by the three soldiers who were smoking and laughing until Sargento Marques slammed the door of the pickup. The three were on their feet immediately.

  “You were supposed to be looking for the man,” Sargento Marques said, “Not sitting on your asses smoking cigarettos.”

  Axel tried to explain what happened emphasizing that what they had shot at was el Tigre. They had shot, not to hit him, but to try to get him out of the pool so they could find the man. But both the man and el Tigre apparently had been killed when they hit the water. It didn’t do any good and Sargento Marques told them he would report the incident to Teniente Zaptero and he would handle any disciplinary action if any was to be taken. Then he got into the truck and was driven back to the encampment, the three flojo (goof-offs) were told to walk, which they did until the lion roared.