by Andy Briggs
Idra offered her hand to Clark. “I believe Robbie and Jane are still alive. After seeing Tarzan … nothing’s gonna kill him. You know it.” She smiled. Clark slowly nodded and let her help him stand.
Greystoke cleared his throat. “She’s right. And they will be heading to the same place as us. We must go on.”
Clark nodded, but said nothing. Werper smiled and clapped his hands together.
“Good. Let’s go!”
Greystoke knew that Clark and Werper were both driven by the same goal as him: greed. He just needed to know how to press their buttons. And he would be damned if he would let Robbie and Jane get to the treasure before he did.
14
With Tarzan guiding them, Robbie and Jane’s progress through the jungle was rapid, although they both had to rest on several occasions, as they hadn’t fully recovered from their ordeal of jumping out of the airplane. On each of these occasions, Tarzan would disappear, safeguarding the path ahead or returning back with food. Their slow pace was evidently annoying the ape-man and, after vanishing longer than usual, he returned with a handful of nuts. He carefully broke the shells between his fingers and offered them to the pair. To Robbie they tasted dry and flavorless, but as he chewed he felt a surge of energy course through him. Whatever natural remedy Tarzan had found was working its magic. He reached for another but Tarzan closed his fist.
“No more. One is enough for the day.”
He was right. Jane and Robbie found their energy renewed enough to plough on through the day. When Tarzan left them alone to scout ahead, Robbie finally had time to reflect on the previous day.
“Y’know, getting arrested by a bounty hunter, sprung out of prison by a bulldozer, and thrown out of a plane, kinda makes you put your life in perspective. It made me think about what I want in life.”
Jane studied him, their eyes meeting. “And what do you want?”
Robbie reached out and brushed a lock of hair that fell across her eyes. “I thought I wanted to go back to the States. Face my stepdad … try and get some revenge for Sophie. But what’s the point? Sophie would have wanted me to live my life. Enjoy it.” Robbie smiled, a mix of sadness and inevitability as he finally let go of the demons that had been holding him back. “I need to live my life for me, nobody else. Not Clark, not my stepdad, my mom … or even Sophie.” He laughed out loud, eyes turned to the heavens as the revelations struck him. “I should thank Lord Greystoke for this. If you can hear me, thank you!”
His gratitude echoed through the jungle.
• • •
By twilight, they had made camp and Robbie helped Tarzan build a bivouac by bending fallen branches into a shelter and lining it with leafy boughs. It would be enough to keep out any rain, the gray clouds already blotting the stretches of sky they could see through the canopy.
They sat around the campfire eating fruit that Jane had found on the local plants. She hadn’t seen the green ovals before, but a troop of monkeys were gathered around them, devouring the ripe flesh, so she judged them to be edible. The monkeys stayed close to the camp, not at all put off by their presence, and their chattering would act like an alarm should danger creep too close.
“How do you know the pygmies?” Jane asked Tarzan as night settled. She saw the puzzled look on Tarzan’s face and indicated with her hand. “The little jungle warriors,” she clarified.
Tarzan gave a broad smile. “The little men help Mangani, showed me how to hunt with weapons. They taught me skills to talk to manu and Tantor… . They are friends.”
“And the ones we left at the river … Orando—is he safe?”
“Yes. Grey-stoke,” Tarzan stumbled over the name, “he is no friend of the local tribes. Drive them off their land. Make them work the mine.” A dark look crossed Tarzan’s face. “And you say Grey-stoke was Tarzan’s family?” He gave a short grim laugh; he had seen the plane go down with Greystoke inside. “Now the pygmies are safe.”
“They thought Jane was some kind of jungle queen,” Robbie said mockingly. Jane scowled at him but explained when Tarzan looked puzzled.
“A goddess actually. They saw me with Numa. He recognized me.”
Tarzan nodded. “Numa is no friend of the little men. To tame him needs the hand of a god.” Robbie wondered if Tarzan really considered himself in such lofty heights, or if this was an attempt at humor. He couldn’t say for sure.
Tarzan quickly changed the subject as a dark look clouded his face. “The others you spoke of. They are a threat to Mangani… .”
“Albert Werper?” said Robbie. “I don’t think he’s a threat to the gor—your family, not like Rokoff was.” Tarzan snarled at the mention of his nemesis. “But if he plans to exploit Opar, he could bring others.”
Tarzan stared into the fire and didn’t say another word. Robbie could only imagine what was going through the ape-man’s mind. After all the events Robbie had been through, he marveled that Tarzan hadn’t shown an ounce of remorse for letting his cousin die in the airplane. In a way, he envied Tarzan. Robbie had wasted a year of his life dwelling on guilt he didn’t need to carry.
As it began to rain, Robbie and Jane took refuge in the bivouac. Tarzan took to the trees, preferring to sleep above the ground when he could. Distant rumbles of thunder quickly lulled them all to sleep.
• • •
The rain stayed with them for the first part of the next day, but the night’s sleep had done wonders for them and they moved with a quicker pace. Most of the day was spent hiking up a mountain flank that looked vaguely familiar to Jane. Cresting the top offered a view across a valley and the smoldering cone of Thunder Mountain. There was more gray smoke pouring from the cone than Jane recalled, making it look more spectacular than ever.
“Wow!” exclaimed Robbie. “I’ve never seen a volcano before. Not for real. That’s amazing.”
“That’s the Savage Lands you’re looking at,” said Jane softly, a trace of awe in her voice. “That’s where we’re going.”
It took the rest of the day for them to descend the other side of the mountain. The slope was steep and the jungle was packed more densely as plants fought for the rich volcanic soil. They forded the river, where both Jane and Robbie almost lost their footing on the slick rocks, before ascending the jungle flanks of Thunder Mountain.
Tarzan raced ahead, driven by concern, but by the time Robbie and Jane caught up, breaking from the forest to the broad grassland running up the side of the volcano, Tarzan was smiling broadly and surrounded by the Mangani as they welcomed him home. At the sight of Robbie and Jane, the apes gave low coughs of acknowledgment and young Karnath galloped up to Jane, leaping into her arms. He hooted with pleasure, playing with her blonde hair.
As usual, Robbie kept a hesitant distance from the apes. He wasn’t completely convinced they liked him.
“So everything’s OK?” said Jane as the sun sank at the end of the valley, casting golden shafts of light down its length, making it look breathtakingly beautiful. Robbie was more enthralled to see the dull red throb from the top of the volcano, and the occasional chunks of glowing red rock spit out far above, rolling down the black scree. Even though he was at least a mile from the peak, it was an alarming sight.
“The Targarni did not come. Now you help.” Tarzan led them farther up the slope to a natural cave where he’d left the woman he’d saved from the Targarni. She was still slumped on the mattress of dry grass he’d gathered, although the fruit husk he’d filled with water was almost empty, indicating she’d had some periods of consciousness.
“Who is she?” Robbie asked, hoping the attraction he felt wasn’t apparent in his voice. A slight head tilt from Jane indicated it was. The girl looked Spanish, maybe in her late twenties.
“I saved her from the Targarni. She sleep all this time.”
Jane felt for a pulse, then touched her forehead, mirroring the same actions Esmée did
when dealing with the sick at Karibu Mji. “I’m no expert, but her pulse seems a little fast and she is burning up with a fever, maybe.” She sprinkled some cold water over the woman’s forehead. “You should have brought her to the camp. Esmée would know what to do.”
Tarzan looked conflicted. The only times he drifted close to the camp was to check on Jane. It never occurred to him to go there to seek help. He looked across the mountain flank; the Mangani were already heading to the safety of the trees as night fell.
“You don’t have to come with us,” said Robbie, reading the ape-man’s reluctance. “We can take her if you show us the way.”
Jane was doubtful. “Robbie, I don’t think we can. It’s going to take two of us to carry her and we’re farther from the camp than you think.”
“Maybe we can bring Esmée back here?”
“This girl might not have much time left. If she’s been like this for days … she might not make it.” Jane chewed her lip thoughtfully. The forced hike had tired her out and, as night fell, none of them were in the right frame of mind to make life or death decisions. It was agreed to discuss the problem tomorrow. Robbie spent some time making sure the woman was comfortable before he and Jane fell asleep by the cave mouth.
• • •
A wild hooting woke Jane with a start. Something had agitated the apes and she saw Kerchak gallop past, growling fiercely. The Targarni must be attacking. She had been caught in one such ambush before and had no wish to see another. She jabbed Robbie in the ribs as she stood.
“Quick, get up!”
She ran down the grassy slope among the gorillas, who all faced the trees expectantly. Tarzan was squat on a boulder, his eyes searching for any wayward movement. Kerchak stood below on all fours, fangs bared in a silent snarl. The other silverbacks were spread across the slope, anticipating an attack at any moment. Despite walking among such powerful animals, Jane felt at ease, safe in their company.
Reaching Tarzan, she spoke in a low voice. “What’s happening?”
“Something comes,” intoned Tarzan.
“Targarni?”
The question was left unanswered. Jane squinted at the trees to see any movement. A morning mist hugged the mountain, giving everything an ethereal look. Glancing up the slope she saw Robbie standing at the cave entrance—he didn’t have the confidence to walk among the Mangani. Her gaze was drawn farther up to the volcanic cone. She was certain the smoke plume was denser than when they arrived. Or was it just a trick of the predawn light?
A low rumble from Kerchak made her snap back around. Several figures had stepped from the mist. Her eyes grew wide with recognition.
“Clark?”
Clark froze the moment he saw the line of gorillas staring back at him. His face split into a grin when he saw Jane, but he knew better than to make any sudden movements.
“Jane? Thank God you’re alive! Robbie?”
“Up here!” shouted Robbie, waving his arms.
Clark gave the tiniest nod of acknowledgment, but his smile grew fractionally wider. “I thought you were dead, boy.”
“Me too,” quipped Robbie. He was enjoying Clark’s discomfort.
“And we thought he was dead,” said Jane, her voice leaden as she indicated to Lord Greystoke emerging from the mist behind Clark, leaning on Werper for support.
Tarzan snarled and bounded from the rock, crouching low at Jane’s side. Greystoke stopped in his tracks, not quite believing the tableau in front of him. Idra stood cautiously behind, her hand poised to snatch the gun on her shoulder, but she had the sense not to do it just yet.
“This is quite a reunion,” said Greystoke hesitantly, then he forced a smile. “Thank goodness. I just knew you survived.”
“No thanks to you,” snapped Jane. “You kidnapped me!”
“I was trying to avoid him.” He nodded toward Tarzan, his eyes never leaving his cousin. “He was trying to kill me.”
Tarzan bellowed furiously, setting everybody on edge. “Leave this land!” he demanded.
Greystoke raised his hand to placate him. “Please, we only seek to pass through.”
Tarzan roared again, and Greystoke took a step backward.
“I’ll make this easy for you,” Jane said. “Turn around and never come back, or”—she gestured to Tarzan and the gorillas—“they will rip you limb from limb and there’s nothing I will be able to do to stop them.”
“Opar’s not yours!” snapped Werper defiantly, his eyes never leaving the apes.
“It’s not yours either!” Jane snapped back. “You act like I should care what you think.” She looked at Clark. “You know what he’ll do.”
Clark nodded and swapped a look with Greystoke. “I really think this is as close as you’ll get, mate. To be honest, I think you should head back to the boats. Let me talk things through with Tarzan.”
“And leave you alone to find the city?” said Werper with loathing. “I’d rather die.” His arrogant expression dropped when Tarzan issued a guttural growl, and he took a quick step backward with Greystoke.
“I think that can be arranged, mate,” said Clark tersely. “Better do as she says and think yourself lucky you’re still alive.”
Robbie suddenly called down the slope, “Wait!” Werper and Greystoke stopped, afraid to take another step. “Do you have a first-aid kit on you?” All eyes turned to Idra. “We need some help.”
Idra stepped forward, but both Tarzan and Kerchak growled, the old silverback stamping his fist into the mountainside. Tarzan hadn’t forgotten who had shot him.
Jane turned to Tarzan and whispered. “Robbie’s right, we might be able to save the woman. But we need their help.”
She could see the conflict in Tarzan’s eyes. She slowly reached out and squeezed his shoulder—it felt like rock. “Trust me. I won’t let them harm you or the Mangani. They’re my family too.”
With great reluctance Clark and Idra were allowed up the slope, flanked by a pair of silverbacks who snarled the entire time. Jane had ordered Idra to drop her rifle, which she did reluctantly only when Lord Greystoke ordered her to comply. Greystoke and Werper stayed put, watching the scene intently, their every move monitored by Kerchak.
Clark and Idra were surprised to see the woman slumped in the cave. Clark’s torrent of questions went unanswered as Idra went to work with the first-aid kit. Tarzan watched, filled with suspicion, as Idra drew fluids from small glass vials into a syringe. “She has a fever,” Idra said, glancing at Tarzan. “But you’ve done well keeping her stable.” She injected the antibiotics and sat back, gently dabbing the woman’s forehead. Idra met Tarzan’s stoic gaze. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry I shot at you.”
• • •
It was thirty minutes later before the woman’s eyes flicked open and she took in the faces surrounding her. She spoke in Spanish, but switched to English when she saw they didn’t understand.
“Where am I?”
“Safe,” Clark assured her. “What’s your name?”
“Reyna.” She winced when she tried to move.
“You’re lucky our friend saved you when he did.” Clark shot a glance at Tarzan, who still kept his distance. He’d used the word “friend” in the hope it would remind Tarzan whose side he was on.
Recalling the memory, Reyna’s eyes went wide and she sat upright so suddenly Idra was forced to restrain her. She exclaimed loudly in Spanish before remembering her English.
“The white ape … my team! Where is my team?”
“Dead. Taken by Targarni,” said Tarzan with his usual lack of tact.
Reyna let out a hoarse emotional gasp at the news. “The woman in robes … She killed them?”
Tarzan nodded. Everybody else swapped curious glances, unaware of this new development.
“What woman?” Jane asked.
“Like a queen or
a priestess stepped out of time …” Reyna looked confused.
Clark frowned. “What were you doing out here in the first place?”
Reyna collected her thoughts. “We were filming a documentary—the legend of the white ape. Following stories about missing people and lost cities …” Clark glanced down the hill to where Greystoke and Werper were still being held back by the Mangani. He was thankful they hadn’t heard this; the last thing they wanted was the world descending on Opar. “We were attacked… .” She drifted off, then looked curiously at Tarzan. “And you saved me. Underground.”
Clark was desperate for any tidbit of information. “Do you remember how you got into the lost city?”
Reyna shook her head. “The woman’s face … I have seen her before.”
“That’s unlikely,” said Jane dismissively. She didn’t want people descending in Tarzan’s territory either.
Reyna emptied the water from the fruit husk, grimacing at the vitamin supplements Idra had slipped into it. “I could have sworn she was Larissa Dorman, an American anthropologist who went missing seven years ago.” Jane felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and a cold shiver ran through her as Reyna continued. “This jungle has taken more than its share of lives. The British Lord Greystoke”—she was unaware of the glances toward Tarzan—“numerous explorers … The local tribes call it the Savage Lands for a reason.”
“And you think this Larissa woman is still alive?”
Reyna nodded and managed to look sheepish. “I know how it sounds, but I think so. And if any of my team are still alive in that place, we must go back.” She looked pleadingly at Tarzan.
“Of course we will,” said Clark, gently restraining her shoulder and not quite believing his luck that the conversation had swung in his favor. “But you’re too weak to go. Better you tell me where you think this city is.”
Before she could respond, a chorus of fierce bellows split the morning calm. Tarzan’s head jerked up. He was coiled, ready for action.
“Targarni!” he growled. “They are here!”