Danger at Dahlkari

by Jennifer Wilde

  I felt nothing, nothing whatsoever. I heard shouts, screams, the deafening explosions of guns firing, firing, and I threw open the door and rushed onto the veranda, instinctively, without thinking, and I saw the white clad figures swarming over the camp. I took aim. I fired. I saw the Thug leap into the air with arms and legs thrown out, and then he fell in a heap, blood gushing from his temple. I fired again, again, never once missing, and vaguely I was aware of Burke and Norman and all the others, all of them firing, the noise incredible, causing my ears to ring, the area around the huts dense with smoke, orange fires streaking, bodies flying in a grotesque, frenzied dance of death.

  Reggie was standing several yards in front of his hut, firing his pistol rapidly, turning this way, that, bodies falling around him, and then I saw Dollie rush out of the hut with another pistol. She was still wearing that remarkable red velvet gown. Quickly, she and Reggie exchanged pistols, and she turned to rush back inside to reload the one he had been using. It was then that I saw the Thug standing on the edge of the roof of their hut. He dived toward Dollie, flying through the air like some treacherous bird, and he would have landed directly on top of her if my bullet hadn’t caught him in midair, the impact of it sending him crashing against the veranda. He hit it with such force that one of the columns broke in two, causing the roof to sag down. Dollie rushed on into the hut without a pause.

  A Thug leaped toward me, screaming, cracking the yellow rumal between his hands. I fired, and there was nothing but a loud click. The gun was empty. I turned and stumbled back into the hut, slamming the door behind me, locking it. I saw Sally standing at the foot of her bed, her face chalk white, one hand hidden in the folds of her skirt, the other spread across her bosom. I hadn’t moved two yards across the room before the Thug hurled his body against the door. It came tumbling down with a loud bang, the Thug on top of it. I stared in horror as he climbed slowly to his feet, looking at me with insane eyes.

  I shook my head, backing away from him. His lips spread in a terrible smile of anticipation as, slowly, deliberately, he moved toward me. Still holding the empty pistol, I stumbled, falling back against the wall. The Thug yelled. He swung the yellow rumal in the air and hurled himself at me, and then his body jerked back convulsively and his eyes widened with shock as the bullet from Sally’s pistol splintered his spine. Tumbling to the floor, he landed on his side and began to thrash around in a circle, kicking his legs, spinning like a gigantic insect. Sally fired again, and the side of his face exploded like a pulpy red plum. His body jerked violently, then went limp.

  “He—he’s dead,” she said hoarsely. “I killed him.”

  The pistol in her hand was still smoking. Dazed, incredulous, Sally stared at the broken, bloody thing on the floor.

  “I brought the pistol—just like Gordon told me. He told me never to leave the post without it. I—I didn’t think I could use it.”

  “Give it to me, Sally. Here. Take this one. Reload it. Do you know how to do it?”

  “I—I think so. Bill showed me once.”

  “The bullets are in a box in my bag. Hurry, Sally.”

  Clutching Sally’s pistol, I rushed back out onto the veranda. A Thug was climbing over the railing. I shot him between the eyes. I saw Private Stanton across the way. A Thug charged him, and even as Stanton fired at him another Thug fell upon him from behind, slinging his rumal around the private’s throat. Stanton dropped his pistol and threw his arms up to tear at that tightening yellow scarf, and then Corporal Burke leaped on the Thug strangling the private, and all three of them went down together. Through the smoke I saw Stanton stumble to his feet, rubbing his throat. He shook his head, momentarily dazed, then quickly retrieved his pistol and continued to fire. Burke was astride the Thug on the ground, choking the assassin to death with his bare hands. When the Thug went limp, Burke leaped up, seized the pistol he had thrust into his waistband and fired at a Thug who was about to sling a rumal around Reggie’s throat.

  It went on and on. I emptied Sally’s pistol, and then she was beside me with my own gun, fully loaded. I took it from her, gave her the other, and she rushed back inside to load it. I shot another Thug, another. The ground was littered with bleeding bodies, dozens of them, it seemed, as though some furious giant had scattered handfuls of them from above. Bullets streaked. Smoke billowed. People yelled. It seemed there weren’t so many of them now, only a few when before there had been multitudes. The bodies continued to pile up. The ground ran red with blood. Then only half a dozen or so assassins remained. Realizing they were defeated, they raced into the jungle, Burke and three others in hot pursuit. We heard the loud crackle of gun shots and anguished yells, and finally there was silence.

  The smoke gradually lifted. I stood in front of the hut, dazed, in a trance, and Sally stood beside me, gripping my hand tightly. The ground in front of us was covered with bodies, at least twenty-five of them, all twisted in crazy angles, blood still streaming from some of them. Four of the bodies were English. Lieutenant Jones was dead, his neck broken, his dark brown eyes open wide in amazement. Captain Barber was dead, too, and Sergeants Bates and Herlihy, the two men who had been on guard duty before the attack began. The smoke evaporated, and the first pale yellow rays of morning sunlight streamed over the treetops. Birds warbled throatily, celebrating the new day. A monkey chattered noisily. The three men who had gone with Burke after the Thugs returned. Burke was not with them.

  “Where—where is Burke?” I asked Captain Palin.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know, Miss,” Palin replied. “We got separated in the jungle.”

  “Did you get the rest of them?” Reggie asked.

  Captain Chapman nodded. “There were seven. Private Stanton here shot three of them. Palin and I finished off the other four.”

  “Good work,” Reggie said.

  Reggie came over to where we were standing. The others followed until all of us stood in a small group in front of the hut. Sergeant Norman put his arms around Sally, and Dollie slipped her arm around my waist, hugging me tightly. I fought back my tears. I had grown fond of the grim and rugged young corporal. I hadn’t realized how much until this moment.

  “Thank God you women are safe,” Reggie said. “That was good shooting, Lauren. I could hardly believe my eyes.”

  “I—I did what I had to do,” I replied. My voice trembled.

  “They planned to murder us all in our beds. They crept up on Bates and Herlihy while they were on guard, murdered them quickly and silently. I was awake—most of us were. I thought I heard a noise, and then you shot that devil trying to climb through your window. That shot alerted the rest of us. If you hadn’t acted when you did—”

  Reggie cut himself short, shaking his head. There were dark shadows under his eyes. All of the men looked battered and exhausted, their uniforms dusty. Captain Chapman had a cut on his chin. Captain Palin’s jacket was torn. Private Stanton’s neck was bruised where the Thug had tightened the rumal around it. Eight of us remained: the two junior officers, Reggie, Norman, Stanton and we three women.

  All of us looked up as we heard footsteps approaching. Corporal Burke sauntered into camp, entering by way of the path leading to the rajah’s encampment. I felt a wave of relief sweep over me, and I wanted to throw my arms around him. Burke’s face was streaked with dirt, and his gray eyes were full of worried concern. Deeply bothered, ill at ease, he came over to us and looked at Reggie, clearly reluctant to speak.

  “I—I have something to report, sir,” he began. “I—well, I was wondering why the rajah and his men didn’t come to our aid. They couldn’t help but hear the gunfire. While the other men were finishing off those Thugs we chased into the jungle, I went to the rajah’s camp.…” He hesitated.

  “Yes? Yes? What is it, Burke?”

  “I’m afraid they’re gone, sir.”

  “Gone?”

  “The clearing was empty. At first I thought they might have been attacked, the bodies buried, the goods carted away, and then I reali
zed there wouldn’t have been time—and if they had been attacked we would have heard it. I’m afraid they packed up and left in the middle of the night, deliberately.”

  “The horses?”

  “They took them all,” Burke said. “I reckon they figured we wouldn’t need ’em. It looks like we were set up, sir. The rajah must have known we were going to be attacked. He has to be in league with the Thugs. There’s no other explanation.”

  “You’re saying we’re stranded, then?”

  “I’m afraid so, sir.”

  A silence fell as all of us contemplated the gravity of our situation. Dollie let go of me and stepped over to stand beside her husband. She took his hand and held it very tightly, and Reggie looked down at her with tenderness and pride that was poignant to behold. He patted the hand holding his. That simple gesture spoke volumes. I realized that they must have been in situations like this before, perhaps a number of them, and they had faced them together, their strength and their love for each other sustaining them as it did now.

  “It looks bad, doesn’t it?” Dollie said, almost chattily.

  “Bad indeed,” Reggie replied. “There are bound to be more of them back at their camp somewhere in the jungle. They’ll assume we were wiped out, but when the others fail to return—” He shook his head, his expression grim. “When the men they sent to kill us fail to show up, they’ll come to investigate. They’re going to be a mite upset when they find all their men dead. They’re going to have one thing in mind—”

  “Vengeance,” Captain Chapman said. “How long do you figure we have before they come to investigate?”

  “Depends on a lot of things,” Reggie replied. “If they’d murdered us all like they’d planned to do, they’d have probably looted the camp, would probably have buried us and erased all signs of the attack. That would have taken awhile. Offhand, I’d say we have three or four hours before those back in their camp begin to grow concerned about their colleagues.”

  “Well then,” Dollie said, “that gives us a nice head start, doesn’t it? We can’t just stand around here waiting for them. It’s a nice long hike back to the garrison, but I fancy we can do it. I for one could certainly use the exercise.”

  She sounded almost cheerful, a plump, improbable figure in her vivid red velvet gown, her girlish black ringlets still perfectly curled, bouncing on either side of her face. Dollie wasn’t even going to contemplate defeat, and her bright determination immediately affected the rest of us. There was no time to be dispirited and pessimistic. Thanks to Dollie’s jovial manner all of us began to feel better.

  “Right!” Reggie said sharply. “We’ll not be able to carry anything with us besides our weapons and ammunition. Anything else would only slow us down.”

  “I told you I had a feeling I’d never wear that dress again,” Sally informed me. “Oh well, now that I’ve trapped Bill I don’t guess it really matters.”

  “What’s this?” Norman inquired. “What do you mean, ‘trapped Bill’?”

  “Never mind,” Sally retorted.

  “We can’t just go off and leave our dead here for the Thugs to find,” Reggie said. “We’ll have to take time to bury them—the graves needn’t be deep, we’ll bring the poor chaps to the garrison and see they have a proper burial later on. Burke, you and Stanton see to it. Drag the bodies into the jungle, see that the graves are well hidden. You’ll find a pick in my hut.”

  Burke and Stanton hopped to their grisly task. Dollie had fetched her first-aid kit and was doctoring the cut on Captain Chapman’s chin. The captain winced. Dollie scolded him for being such a baby. Captain Palin had begun to gather up the weapons of our men who had been killed. Norman went to help Burke and Stanton, as did Captain Chapman when Dollie had finished bandaging his cut. It seemed to take the men a terribly long time to complete their task, particularly when every minute was precious, but they eventually returned, fetched weapons and ammunition, and we set out through the jungle.

  “I deliberately didn’t change last night,” Dollie confessed. “I was busy packing, for one thing—naturally I had to pack for Reggie, too, he couldn’t pack a bag if his life depended on it—and besides, I figured if my time was going to come, I’d go out in style!”

  “I wish I’d thought of that,” Sally complained. “I could be wearing my emerald silk now instead of leaving it to rot in the jungle.”

  “I must say, though, this velvet is rather warm. Dear me, it is going to be a scorcher today.”

  “We want to keep a good steady pace,” Reggie said sternly. “There’ll be no lagging behind.”

  “Don’t look at me when you say that,” his wife retorted. “I may be a trifle overweight—well, more than a trifle—but I can match any pace you set, McAllister, any day of the week. I used to walk quite a lot when I was a girl,” she confided to the rest of us. “Of course, it wasn’t through a steaming jungle, but what are a few vines and trees?”

  “It’s snakes I’m worried about,” Sally remarked. “I’ve been in India all this time and I’ve yet to see a cobra that wasn’t kept in a basket by a flute player. I know they’re all over the place and no one need try to tell me any different. After all, Burke killed one in his hut just two nights ago.”

  “A huge, writhing specimen it was, too,” Burke added, teasing her with a perfectly straight face.

  Although Reggie frankly admitted it might be unwise, we followed the trail that had already been blazed by the rajah’s caravan when we were on our way to the campsites. At this point, speed was much more important than anything else, and we could move much faster without having to hack away at vines and branches. We were in grave danger. All of us realized that. The Thugs might be on their way after us at any moment. Nevertheless, an almost festive spirit prevailed, primarily because of Dollie’s encouragement and lighthearted comments. She trudged along in her gown, stumbling occasionally, already beginning to pant just a little, but she displayed a devil-may-care heroism that was an inspiration to all of us.

  “I have to confess, it was much more fun when we were riding in those lovely sedan chairs,” she told me, “although I’m sure those poor bearers didn’t think so. They had an easy enough task with you and Sally, but I’ll vow they rued the day I saw my first French pastry.”

  “Are—are you all right?” I asked.

  “Fit as a fiddle, dear. This must seem a lark after what you and Sally went through. At least we have six strapping men to protect us. Poor Private Stanton still looks a bit wobbly. Being half-strangled this morning hasn’t helped him a bit. I’ll wager he’ll hold up, though.”

  “I’m sure all of us will.”

  “I saw the way you were shooting this morning, dear. It was nothing less than amazing. I owe you my life, I should think. If you hadn’t shot that Thug leaping off the roof.…”

  “Let’s not talk about it, Dollie.”

  “Hold on, let me get to my point. What I want to say is this: I was dead set against your going out riding with Robert Gordon—I made a regular nuisance of myself over it, I’ll admit—but I was wrong. He taught you to shoot like that, so, indirectly, I owe my life to him, too. I’ve complained about him since the day he arrived on post, but if I were to see him right now, I’d throw my arms around him and give him the biggest hug he ever had. I misjudged him. I think we all did. He may be different, but I’m convinced now he knows what he’s doing.”

  “I think he does, Dollie. I—I have great confidence in him.”

  “Oh dear, I do wish those parrots weren’t so loud! I wonder when we’re going to take another rest stop. I’m not complaining, mind you, but my wretched feet are beginning to rebel.”

  Corporal Burke had had the foresight to fasten three canteens onto his belt. After we had been traveling for two or three hours, he left the group to go scouting for water. He was gone for almost an hour, and I was beginning to worry about him when he finally joined us with all three canteens filled to the brim. He announced that he had found a crystal-clear stream, th
at the water was delicious. Reggie said that we should stop for lunch. I lifted an eyebrow at that, and grinning, he began to pull chocolate bars out of his pocket.

  “Thought they might come in handy,” he told us. “I always carry a few with me. They’re five here. We’ll divide ’em up. If I’m not mistaken, that’s a mango tree over there, and it’s loaded with fruit. If one of you gentlemen’ll climb up and shake the limbs a bit—”

  Sergeant Norman leaped to the task, swinging up into the branches with great agility, swaggering a bit for Sally’s benefit. The mangoes refused to fall when he shook the branches, so he had to pluck them loose one by one and toss them down to us. It was almost like a merry game, the sergeant yelling “Catch!” and taunting us when one of us missed. A small gray monkey suddenly leaped onto the limb beside him, and Norman let out a yell, so startled that he almost lost his perch. All of us laughed, Sally the loudest of all. Norman scowled and shooed the monkey away, but not before the audacious creature had grabbed a mango right out of his hand.

  “I thought you were supposed to be brave,” Sally said when he dropped down from the tree. “You looked like you were scared out of your wits, and by a perfectly adorable little monkey like that. I don’t know about you, Norman.”

  Norman made no reply, sulking in a manner I found particularly endearing. He was robust and manly, yet that boyish charm was very much in evidence. Sally told him to act his age and reached up to smooth back locks of bronze hair plastered to his damp forehead. Norman grinned, plopped down under the shade of a tree and tugged her arm roughly. Sally came tumbling down beside him, voicing her outrage at such treatment but actually adoring it. Dollie perched on a rock beside Private Stanton, chatting amiably in an attempt to draw him out. I sat between Burke and Reggie, and Captains Palin and Chapman sprawled out on the ground. We were all dusty and exhausted and perspiring freely, but none of us complained.

  We ate the chocolate bars and the juicy, yellow-orange mangoes, and Burke passed the canteens around. The jungle was steamy hot, noisy, an ominous rustling green-brown world festooned with flowered vines. Dollie fell silent, and, the food eaten, we rested, and even though none of us mentioned it, each of us knew that the Thugs had probably gone to investigate by this time, had probably discovered the bodies littering the campsite. Fleet, furious, they were probably rushing down the trail after us. How long would it take them to catch us? Two hours? Three?