Snatched

by Vijaya Schartz

  At the snap of a branch, she awoke with a start. The fire had burned to embers, and she felt the presence of something big in the bushes. Man or beast? Friend or foe?

  Zania reached for the dagger. She wished she could feed another branch to the dying fire, to ward off a wild beast, and to see better. But the enormous head surging out of the brush with a deafening roar didn’t leave her enough time. A tiger. Had it been stalking her, waiting until the fire ebbed?

  Adrenaline rushed down her spine, energizing her whole body. Heart pounding, Zania rose very slowly, clutching her only weapon. A tall target was more intimidating than scurrying game. Zania hadn’t escaped her jail to fall prey to a jungle cat.

  The tiger hesitated, as if wary of Zania. In the glow of embers, his eyes flashed with gold. It was a large male with long sharp fangs, and he looked hungry. He roared in defiance, announcing his intent.

  Zania knew the beast would pounce at the first sudden move. She had to wait for his attack, then be faster than him. All her energy coiled inside, ready to leap, Zania gripped her dagger with both hands, blade up. Her gaze fixed on her enemy, she slowed her breathing.

  In a rush of wind, the tiger leapt high above the dying fire. Stepping down and forward, Zania ducked. Above her, the belly of the beast stretched, exposed. She stabbed the soft hide to the hilt, then pulled the sharp blade in a straight line, the length of his belly.

  Engulfed by steamy entrails and showered with blood, Zania rolled aside, but the tiger collapsed on top of her with an agonized growl. The embers hissed, and the stench of burnt hide filled the air. Zania quickly crawled away from the shaking beast and its jerky claws.

  Standing up, she stared at the dying feline, amazed at having survived. She’d never fought a tiger before, but her quick instincts had saved her life. Was there another beast nearby? Zania froze to listen. Nothing disturbed the warbling of nocturnal birds and insects, or the ceaseless cacophony of tree frogs.

  Zania heaved the heavy carcass off the embers before it smothered the fire, then she added more wood and fanned the flames to activate the blaze. Time for an impromptu meal. She severed the liver from the tiger’s entrails, sliced off and discarded the bile pouch then roasted the choice piece on a stick over the open flame. A nourishing treat for a warrior.

  While the liver roasted, she severed a hind thigh from the beast, wrapped it in wide leaves and hung it from a low branch with a piece of vine, out of reach of rodents. Then she enjoyed the crispy liver, a delicacy that would give her strength.

  Almost dawn. The nocturnal predators would soon return to their lairs. Nourished and safe again, Zania thought of resting a while, but a gust of wind and the crack of thunder overhead announced an oncoming storm. The humidity in the air grew more oppressive. The drumming of large drops on the canopy of leaves became deafening before any rain reached the ground.

  At the first downpour washing the leaves and drenching the undergrowth, the fire fizzled and died. Lightning flashed through the trees, tingeing the dawn with gray and silver. Instead of celebrating the rising sun, birds and monkeys remained silent. Even insects and frogs stopped their happy chatter.

  Zania had to find shelter. A good time to search for the cave Svend had mentioned. She rose, snatched her satchel and attached the heavy chunk of meat to it with vine, then slung it over her shoulder. She had to go uphill to find rocky terrain, the best place for boulders and caves.

  Studying the ground, Zania remembered her training. She noticed how it rose underfoot, and she followed the slope. The vegetation and the rain made it difficult to see ahead, so Zania observed rainwater gushing over the forest floor, always downhill, faster as the terrain grew steeper.

  The path forked and she searched for a sign. She noticed a crude carving in a stone to the side. Could it be an arrow? It seemed to go up, so she followed the trail.

  Grateful for this impromptu shower, Zania hoped it would wash the gore and the stink of blood from her hair and skin. And over a matter of minutes, it did just that. As she searched for more clues, Zania luxuriated in such clean water from the sky, a rare commodity on her home planet.

  She also felt relieved, knowing that most animals hide from storms. They wouldn’t come looking for her in this downpour. Besides, the rain would wash away her scent. Thanks, Aries, for this gift from the gods.

  When rock replaced humus underfoot and mossy boulders lined her path, Zania surmised she was on the right track. She found more chisel marks on the boulders and followed where they led. Keeping her eyes and ears alert to any danger, she heard rushing water in the distance. Was it the roar of a waterfall, or just a rapid? No, definitely a waterfall.

  The marks led that way. Clutching vines and thick foliage to help her ascent, Zania climbed faster. She’d learned from reading old adventure novels that waterfalls often hid a cave entrance. This could be it.

  Zania marveled as she came upon the thick curtain of white water cascading from as high as the tallest trees. On her desert planet, this would have been a poster for a paradise vacation. Of course, the waterfall would be man-made, the rain forest a manicured park, and the tigers would pace behind a high Plexiglas wall.

  Stepping to the water’s edge, Zania noticed flat protruding rocks among the fast-running waters of the pool. They seemed evenly spaced for human steps and led to the waterfall. Natural happenstance? Most likely, someone had placed them there.

  Venturing on the slippery stones, she balanced her satchel and the piece of meat, careful not to fall into the rapid current. When Zania finally reached the waterfall, she poked her head through the pummeling water curtain. A large flat stone provided a landing on the other side. She leapt through the fall and landed on the rock shelf. Thrilled to see the open mouth of a cave, she realized she’d found what she’d hoped for.

  Before exploring the cave, she cupped her hands to take a drink from the falling water. It tasted like a cool balm, re-energizing her entire body. Things started to look brighter.

  Zania had found her shelter from the rain, a home where she could sleep in peace and stay dry, without having to worry about predators. Felines didn’t balance on jutting rocks and hated turbulent waters.

  A loud whistle pierced through the drumming of the waterfall. A bird?

  Alerted by the hair rising at her nape, Zania stood up slowly and reached for the dagger at her belt.

  "Who goes there?" The strong male voice came from inside the dark cave.

  Zania’s heart beat faster. Friend or foe?

  Chapter Eight

  "It's safe to talk." The voice coming from the cave mouth didn’t sound threatening. A faint torch glow illuminated a corner of tunnel. "The rock and the waterfall drown the voices inside the cave."

  Good point.

  "My name is Zania." Slightly relieved, she took a few steps on the wet, slippery stone, but still couldn’t see anyone. "I’m an Amazon." It wouldn’t do to rattle off her military pedigree from her home planet. It didn’t mean anything here and would only make her suspect.

  "From the bunker?" The young hirsute man who came toward her wore clothing made of rough skins and furs. He held a spear and raised a torch in front of his face. His eyes widened with surprise over a dark beard. "Never seen an Amazon looking like you." The tone dripped with open lewdness.

  "Sorry about that." After last night, and wet from the waterfall, she must look a fright. Zania kept the dagger in her hand. Uncomfortable under his stare, she chuckled nervously. "I’m fairly new, but I have a few scars in the making."

  The man's gaze shifted to the waterfall at her back. He squinted. "How many of you?"

  "Just me."

  The man shrugged. "Follow me."

  He turned his back to Zania and led the way inside what looked like a wide tunnel. Zania slid her dagger back into her belt. Not a very efficient sentinel, or maybe he thought a woman presented no danger. Unless, in this hostile environment, any human was considered friendly.

  Although the tunnel looked entirely natur
al, it had smooth regular walls and a flat stone floor. It wasn’t a typical cave, more likely a volcanic lava tube. Other tunnels branched off, forming a maze of smaller rivulets between irregular pillars of dark, volcanic stone. Dead ends formed nooks and crannies. Faint natural light filtered from small holes and cracks in the ceiling, like natural skylights.

  Soon, Zania heard voices and followed her guide into a vast hall, a much wider tube with a twenty foot ceiling. Natural light filtered here, too, creating an updraft that made the torches on the wall flicker. A central fire burned brightly, and the smoke wafted toward the lofty heights, to disappear in natural crevices.

  Several men and a few women rolled up their sleeping skins as if they’d just woken up. Zania noticed stacks of firewood neatly stored along one wall. A man was shaving with a knife, another shook some eggs before dropping them into a vat of boiling water above the fire. As they noticed the newcomer, all activity ceased, and the two dozen people in the cave stared at Zania.

  A man in his fifties, with gray hair and a bland face, rose and walked toward the newcomer.

  The sentinel saluted his leader. "Her name is Zania, an Amazon from the bunker."

  "I’m the leader of the Freedom tribe. Everyone calls me Gray." The old man with the fitting nickname inspected her from every angle, with passionless eyes, as if assessing an animal for the slaughter. "How did you find us?"

  "I was told to follow the markings on the rocks. They led me here." Zania struggled to remain calm. She didn’t want to ruin her chances of survival. In the jungle, there was safety in numbers. Besides, Svend would look for her here.

  "You look more like a sex slave than an Amazon." Gray shook his head in disapproval. "You better not bring rife among the Freedom tribe."

  "Don’t worry about that." Zania didn’t like the way the younger men stared at her, but she could take care of herself. "I’m not interested in your men. I’m spoken for, and my companion is coming soon." Zania felt strange talking about Svend as her man, but she hoped it would appease the leader’s objections.

  Gray didn’t seem impressed. "But if you want to become one of us, you’ll have to earn your keep."

  That seemed fair. But if the man thought for a second that Zania would prostitute herself for all the single males staring at her now, he had the wrong idea. "I agree that everyone should contribute to the community."

  Pulling out her dagger, Zania reached for the vine tied on her satchel and cut down the hind quarter of meat.

  When she looked up, every man and woman in the cave held a weapon aimed at her.

  "Easy." Zania slowly sheathed her dagger then deposited the wrapped hind quarter of meat on the stone floor at the man’s feet. She held her hands up in entreaty as she rose. "Here is my first contribution."

  The sentinel, who’d brought her in, knelt and opened the leaves wrapping then gaped at her offering. The size of the hind piece, as well as the stripes on the pelt, left no doubt about Zania’s hunting abilities.

  She couldn’t help but smile at the sudden respect in the others’ eyes. "Freshly killed, before dawn. That’s all I could carry. The carcass is not far if you want more."

  Wide smiles spread on the many faces. The men and women sheathed their weapons and gathered around Zania to introduce themselves. Zania explained to a group of Freedom hunters where to find the dead tiger, and they left. Then other tribesmen skinned the chunk of meat and roasted it on the open fire on a makeshift spit. Soon, the delicious smell of roast filled the cave.

  "Tiger meat is a rare treat." The woman warrior turning the spit had introduced herself earlier as Raven. Tall with long black hair streaked with gray, she must have been a former Amazon. Her garb, however, included fur rather than leather.

  "Why is tiger so rare? There seems to be plenty around."

  "Tigers come out at night. Hunting in the dark is too dangerous." Raven wrapped large fruit in green leaves and carefully placed them on the edge of the fire. Their sweet aroma soon mixed with that of the cooking meat.

  Zania opened her collar and pointed to the bandage around her neck. "Is there a place where I can dress my wounds."

  Raven smiled wide and nodded. She motioned to a man to take the spit then she led Zania to a private nook in a dead-end tunnel to the side of the cave. "The others won’t bother us in Gray’s personal quarters."

  She helped Zania remove her top and her bandages and gasped when she saw the wounds. "Who did this to you?"

  "It happened in combat." No need to point fingers. Dakini might have friends even here.

  "That’s how most of us ended up here, after outliving a lost fight." Raven smiled warmly. "You are lucky you survived the wounds."

  "I guess I am." But Zania knew the intention wasn’t to save her life, just to make her death more horrible.

  "It’s not a good idea to stitch a wound, though." The woman frowned. "It could get infected inside."

  "Does it look red? Is it hot to the touch?" It certainly didn’t feel like it.

  "Not at all." The woman’s hands probed Zania’s back. "It looks clean and healthy. And the stitching is exquisite. It may not even leave a scar."

  Zania smiled. "I had the best surgeon." Obviously, Morrigan was skilled, and her concoctions had antibiotic properties.

  A metal box that looked like a piece of electronic equipment, sat on a natural stone shelf. Zania pointed at it. "What is it?"

  Raven cleared her voice. "This is how Gray used to receive messages from citizens in Dagora. But he can’t anymore."

  "Is it broken?"

  Coming to face Zania, Raven shook her head. "The machines found out and put an end to such communications."

  The finality in the tone prohibited any further question. Zania wondered how the tribe did get a hold of such technology but didn’t ask.

  Soon, with her wounds cleaned, redressed and bandaged, Zania returned to the main hall and finished drying by the fire. The meal was almost ready when the hunters returned, carrying the best cuts of the tiger, to the cheers of the tribe.

  "We left only the entrails for the scavengers," said one of the hunters.

  Loud whistles resembling bird calls brought the entire Freedom tribe back to the cave for the special meal. Zania realized the satellites wouldn’t recognize the coded trills as human among the cacophony of birds. Clever. She could tell by the general jolliness that today would be a day of celebration.

  Men and women warriors sat in a wide circle around the fire. Gray invited Zania to sit next to him, apparently a place of honor. Raven took a seat on the other side of the leader, acting as his second in command... or his mate. Zania almost felt as if she’d found a place to belong.

  While they ate, the Freedom warriors, men and women alike, swapped hunting stories, and fighting stories from their days in the arena. Gray, however, remained silent, as if the stories made him uncomfortable.

  The feast almost reminded Zania of similar celebrations at home. "Some of this noise must escape with the smoke through the vents of the lava tubes. Aren’t you afraid the satellites will pick up on it?"

  Gray shrugged. "The waterfall, the wind, and the thick trees garble the sound, and besides, there is no heat signature or heartbeat to confirm human presence."

  Someone passed Zania a gourd. Expecting fruit juice, she choked on the sweet drink, feeling the burn of alcohol in her throat.

  Gray chuckled at her grimace. "It’s Juju wine. Like it?"

  Zania nodded. "How long has this community existed?" She passed him the gourd.

  Gray didn’t drink and passed the gourd to Raven. "Over three years... closer to four. Each year the Freedom tribe gains more members... We’ve lost a few as well."

  "To the satellites?"

  "Yes." Gray's shoulders dropped. "Newly arrived members sometimes venture into a clearing or speak against my warnings."

  "And?"

  "A red laser sears the air, and they vanish into a pile of ash." Gray looked down at his hands as if to hide his sadness. "Many
don’t understand the concept of space weaponry. They come from simpler cultures, where each enemy has a human face."

  "I was raised around such weapons. They almost destroyed my world, made my planet a desert."

  Gray nodded. "So you know how powerful they are."

  After a long swig, Raven wiped her mouth with her forearm. "You mentioned your man coming soon... alone?"

  "No." The time had come for Zania to deliver her official message. "The warriors are planning an escape. All three tribes, Vikings, Amazons and Centurions." As she said it, Zania remembered Svend’s kiss and his promise to join her. She hoped she didn’t blush.

  "Ha!" Gray’s dull eyes lit up slightly. "So Svend is finally making his move. It’s time to get ready."

  "You know Svend?" Zania couldn’t help the surprise in her voice.

  Gray offered a half smile. "A bright young man. Despite his primitive upbringing, he learned quickly and adapted to the technology of this planet. It’s thanks to him that everyone here today escaped."

  Raven squeezed Gray’s shoulder. "And thanks to you. You are too modest." She leaned over to address Zania. "Gray led the first batch of escapees and found this cave. Svend remained behind to cover our tracks and help the others."

  So, that’s why Svend never escaped. He would only leave last. How noble. "Well, Svend should be here soon with the others. At least, that’s what he told me."

  "Svend always does what he says." Gray sighed. "I’m glad he’s coming, but he’d better hurry. Things are getting worse."

  "What things?" Zania hated not knowing.

  Raven looked surprised. "Didn’t you feel the tremors?"

  "Yes, of course." Zania remembered both times.

  "The volcano is about to explode." Gray’s forehead wrinkled with concern. "It’s time to move away from here."

  "How do you know it will explode for sure?" Zania had always thought that explosive volcanic eruptions were unpredictable.

  "The scientists in Dagora said that when the tremors are only a day apart, time will run out." Gray frowned. "Didn’t Svend tell you?"