WHERE LEGENDS ROAM

by Lee Murphy

  "What the hell...?" Wayne leaned forward to see what had happened when more animals ran in front of the Range Rover and gathered in a clearing to their left.

  Three adult male baboons circled a leopard and were moving in for the kill. This was the aftermath of an earlier fight, as the leopard was already injured and bleeding, and two of the baboons were suffering from serious retaliation attempts.

  The big cat crouched low to the ground, its ears plastered back against its head, screaming at its enemies.

  The three baboons spread out so the cat would be unable to watch them all at the same time. They snarled and lunged at the cat, making a sound that was uniquely their own; something akin to a barking-roar.

  The leopard was hopelessly outnumbered, especially since the baboons matched him in size and ferocity. But the cat would go out fighting.

  Inside the Range Rover, the three men had a ringside seat to the fight, but neither Kodiak nor Wayne wanted to see this. "What happened to the million-dollar security that's supposed to keep these animals apart?"

  The animals had come to a clearing that was enclosed by fencing, which made driving the Range Rover in to break up the fight impossible. Kodiak was looking over the dashboard and asked Dubbins, "You have a radio or something we can use to get a hold of Pittman? I don't think he's gonna want to lose these animals."

  When Dubbins didn't reply, Kodiak was shocked. "Dubbins, these animals are going to rip each other to pieces. If we can't get a hold of Pittman, then we need to break this up. Do you have a tranquilizer gun, or anything we can use?"

  Dubbins just looked down. "There's nothing I can do, Mr. Kodiak."

  Kodiak grabbed Dubbins by his collar and pulled him over to the passenger side. "You'd better do something to stop this, or I'm gonna throw you out there with them!"

  "George..." Wayne sounded like he was going to be sick.

  Kodiak turned to him, still holding Dubbins, who did nothing to protect or even stand up for himself.

  "George, there's nothing he can do."

  Kodiak looked out the window.

  The fight was on. One of the baboons made a biting lunge at the leopard's haunch, and when the leopard turned, another baboon went for its throat.

  Kodiak released Dubbins and tried to open the glove compartment. It was locked, so he smashed his fist into the glove compartment door and tore it off. He found a twelve-inch flashlight and got out of the car.

  Wayne called after him to get back inside, but Kodiak ignored him. He took aim at what he assumed was the alpha baboon and shouted, trying to distract them. This ploy failed, so he hurled the flashlight and struck the baboon's head. The animal screeched, but did not turn away from the leopard.

  There was a blur of motion as all four animals got into it. The leopard screamed. The baboons roared.

  "George!" Wayne passed Kodiak a tire iron from the back of the Range Rover, and Kodiak heaved it at one of the baboons. He connected-- a perfect blow to its shoulder. But it was too late to stop the bloody frenzy.

  The baboons backed off. One crawled away, holding its paw to its throat which had been sliced open by the cat. It would be dead in minutes.

  The mouths of the other two baboons were clotted with blood, and the leopard's belly was torn wide open. It remained

  crouched down, screaming at its adversaries as a pool of its own blood formed beneath it.

  The two baboons pounced again. Their screaming reached a crescendo, and then the fighting stopped. The two surviving baboons began tearing the leopard to pieces.

  Kodiak could do nothing more than stare at what remained of this mess. Finally, as he prepared to get back inside the car, a glint of light caught his eye-- something in the tree above the fenced-in area. It was a camera. There was another directly across from it, covering another angle. It dawned on Kodiak what was really going on here. These animals didn't get loose on their own. This had been staged. This was a rich man's cock fight.

  Inside, Wayne was looking at the floorboard. He didn't want to see what had happened.

  Kodiak glared at Dubbins, debating whether he wanted to beat the hell out of him, or save it for Pittman, who had orchestrated this fiasco. He looked at the scars, and thought about the way Dubbins hadn't even tried to defend himself. Dubbins was obviously an abused person.

  "All right, the tour's over. Take us to see Pittman. Right now!"

  The Need To Own Nature

  Following the incident in the African woodland, Dubbins took Kodiak and Wayne directly to Pittman's house; a Scottish castle that was shipped, a section at a time, to this place in Arizona and reconstructed almost exactly as it had been originally built.

  The castle was built of granite blocks and boasted several hundred-foot towers that rose above the battlements of the main structure. A line of dragons, linked head to tail was sculpted in relief beneath the battlements. The castle's huge stained glass windows looked muddy without any interior lights to make them shine.

  The trip took over half an hour, because they had to go through a South American rainforest that was located beside the African rainforest, with a three and a half mile section of Amazon River that came down from the hills and acted as a moat for the castle.

  The river was stocked with Amazon River dolphins, manatees, black caimans, frogs, turtles, and several species of piranha.

  Dubbins drove the Range Rover across the drawbridge, past the high stone arches of the gatehouse where they waited while the main gate opened at an arthritic crawl.

  Wayne noticed two men standing on a twenty-foot platform that was erected over a separate pond within the castle grounds. "Hey, George." When Kodiak turned to him, Wayne nodded toward the activity at the pond.

  The two men pulled a live chicken from a bag and were struggling to hold it still. One of the men cut off the chicken's head, and they both got soaked with blood as its wings flapped and its legs kicked, until they got a better grasp and dangled the body over the pond, shaking it to get the blood to rain down on the water.

  SNAP!!! A gigantic green form exploded from the water and came within grabbing distance of the two men. Wayne thought they must have nerves of steel, because they didn't even flinch. They simply released the chicken into the thing's mouth as it descended back into the pond with an explosive crash and was gone.

  The gate was open, but the three men were still looking at the pond. "That's Mark Anthony. Mr. Pittman's most prized possession. He is the largest American alligator known to exist, coming in at twenty-one and one-half feet," Dubbins said with some pride before stepping on the gas and pulling into the courtyard.

  When they got out of the Range Rover, they were grateful to finally stretch their legs after the long and emotionally distressing ride.

  Kodiak and Wayne followed Dubbins into the castle and down a long gallery where hundreds of original art masterpieces hung on the walls. Wayne turned in circles as they walked, trying to look at all the paintings.

  One concession Pittman made to modern technology was to install an elevator that Dubbins used to take them four floors up to the inner sanctum: Emory Pittman's private quarters.

  There was a steel vault door across the hall from the elevator on the fourth floor, and next to that an intercom where Dubbins pressed a receiver button.

  "Dubbins, is that you?"

  "Mr. Kodiak and Mr. Monroe to see you."

  "Good. Let them in, pronto." The voice sounded ancient. It had an unearthly quality that was more than just distortion from the speaker.

  Dubbins placed a card key into the vault door, and it jarred open. He pulled it wide enough for them to pass through. "Gentlemen..."

  Wayne went in first, followed by Kodiak. Dubbins remained outside and closed the door behind them. There were several audible clicks and electronic hums as the door automatically locked.

  Pittman's bedroom was a penthouse apartment that was constructed on the very top of the castle. It was split level, complete with a kitchen and dining room, game room and entertain
ment center. Two of the walls were made entirely of glass, allowing a view of the surrounding grounds. From here they could see the elephants and giraffes on the African savannah.

  Emory Pittman was sitting up in the middle of a kingsize bed. He looked even older than Dubbins, with a face like a desert scape that was bleach white and pocked with tiny scars and huge liver spots that went to the top of his bald head. He had startlingly clear blue eyes that were in stark contrast to his aged face.

  Under the white, wrinkled skin, he was a powerfully built, very well-muscled man, like somebody who had worked out all his life. When he smiled his large white teeth and sharp blue eyes gave him the look of a human skull reanimated with some malevolent life force. "Mr. Kodiak, what a pleasure it is to finally meet you!" He leaned forward with obvious discomfort and extended his hand, holding a paperback copy of Kodiak's book on the Sasquatch; Hunt for the Living Gigantopithecus. Pittman placed his hands on his lap and said, "Forgive me for this impertinence on my part, but I broke my hip in a riding accident last month, and I'm going to be laid up for a while. It's had a hell of a time healing." Perhaps this was the source of the smell Kodiak picked up. It hit them like a wave when they came into this room; a dirty, cloying smell that was more than a mere lack of personal hygiene. It smelled like Pittman's injury had gone septic and the reek had permeated everything. "So tell me, what did you think of my little collection?"

  Kodiak was reluctant to answer, unable to understand why Pittman would allow the baboons and the leopard to get together. But looking now at this pathetic, bed-ridden, probably mentally unstable old man, all he could think to say was, "I saw it."

  "And?"

  "And, I suppose if one feels the need to own nature, it's an impressive undertaking."

  Pittman sighed with mild exasperation. "And it's not finished yet. I'm going to collect specimens of every animal known to exist. I'm even having a saltwater lake built for a great white shark."

  Kodiak couldn't repress a skeptical grin and said, "Don't you think that might be a little unrealistic? Even for you?"

  Pittman ignored the remark. "How did you like my little performance with the baboons and the leopard?" Pittman leered, anticipating a reaction.

  Kodiak said, "I don't know why I should be surprised you know about that."

  Pittman laughed. "You shouldn't be, since I'm the one who arranged it."

  Wayne said to Pittman, "You're as bad as those jackals back home, who raise domesticated lions and elephants so's they can be hunted by money counters who like to play big game hunter!"

  Pittman found this amusing and smiled at Wayne. "Whoa, hold on, Old Paint. You got me all wrong." He turned back to Kodiak. "Looks like Uncle Cornpone here may have some cajones after all." Pittman laughed and picked up a remote control and pointed it at the large screen television opposite his bed. "Here, look at this..."

  They watched a video tape of Pittman walking through a petting zoo of baby animals that had been assembled in the castle's courtyard. This footage had been shot before his accident, with Pittman in the middle of a large swarm of handicapped children. He was carrying a little girl with Down Syndrome in his massive arms, laughing and playing the part of Grandpa to the underprivileged. He said to Kodiak, "This was last year. I do this thing every year. You know, let all the little retards come and gawk at my pets. They love it, and it doesn't look too bad for me, either." He chuckled.

  Kodiak and Wayne looked at each other. There were definitely some weird angles to sweet, lovable "Grandpa" Pittman. He seemed to have a passion for life and a love of nature that was contaminated by his need to own and ultimately degrade the things he made a part of his life.

  There was something intrinsically familiar about Pittman to Kodiak; something ugly that made him vaguely uncomfortable and caused him to dislike the old man without knowing why.

  Pittman seemed to become melancholic. "Of course, this place will never be as good as it used to be. Not really. Forty years ago I owned a tribe of Asmat head hunters from New Guinea. Kept them penned up where that white shark lake'll be. Had 'em fenced in with electric fences and twenty-four hour surveillance cameras. I recreated their whole village, too. They were my favorite acquisition, until several of the bucks got loose and slaughtered my groundskeeper and his family. Then I had to send them back. You know they even reproduced while I had them." Pittman told this story with the same pathos one remembers a favorite pet. He shut off the television.

  Kodiak felt sick as he watched the old man. And that stink wasn't helping. "What was it you brought us out here for, Mr. Pittman?"

  Pittman smiled, his shining eyes looking surreal on his skull-like face, and he said, "Tell me about Vietnam. I understand you intend to find a complete Gigantopithecus skeleton?"

  "Yeah, I think there's a good chance. And it might answer the question whether Gigantopithecus was a quadruped or a true biped."

  "I've read this book of yours," Pittman said, holding up Hunt for the Living Gigantopithecus. "You make a compelling argument in favor of the this thing's existence. Be honest with me now. What do you suppose the odds are of one ever being captured?"

  Kodiak shook his head. "There have been literally hundreds of expeditions to find one of these animals over the past several decades. You heard of Tom Slick? He was another millionaire who financed several expeditions for both the Sasquatch and the Yeti. Even after all his efforts, he came up empty-handed. In the more than twenty years I've been looking, I haven't seen one yet. That's why I want to go to Vietnam. I think the odds are greater of finding the fossil skeleton than a live specimen."

  Pittman quietly considered this for what seemed like minutes. "So, what would it take for you to forget Vietnam, and consider capturing for me, for my zoo, a live Gigantopithecus, or Bigfoot, or Sasquatch, or whatever the hell they're calling it this week?"

  Kodiak and Wayne looked at each other again, and Kodiak said, "Just like that?"

  "Just like that."

  "You make it sound easy."

  "For you, I think it would be. Even if you'd never admit it."

  "You know," Kodiak said, "you could have saved yourself the couple of hundred thousand dollars it took to bring us out here. If you really did read that book, then you know as much as I do on the subject."

  "Don't be a smart-ass, Kodiak. If all I was interested in was reading about you making plaster casts of footprints and putting Bigfoot crap in a baggy, I wouldn't be wasting your time. More importantly, I wouldn't be wasting my time. I thought you were supposed to be smart. Maybe you're too smart for your own damn good."

  Kodiak walked over to the nightstand and picked up a deck of playing cards and shuffled through them while Pittman went on. "I want to back an expedition, to be led by you, not to Vietnam for fossilized bones, but to Washington State, to capture a living specimen and bring it back here to me."

  "What makes you think you'll be any luckier than anybody else?"

  "I happen to know some people who also believe these animals exist. People associated with the timber industry in this country. They're very good at keeping track of these creatures. They have to be, and I think you understand why. They have sent me some pertinent information regarding the best location for a probable capture. And I have you," Pittman said.

  Kodiak didn't know what to say. He thought Pittman was crazy.

  "Of course," Wayne cut in, "there is the matter of George's fee. Not to mention exclusive book rights, and first shot at writing the article for any publications that may be interested."

  "There's five million dollars in it for you, tax free, under the table in a foreign account of your choice, just for trying. And if you're successful, I'll double it. Not only that, you will have unlimited access to the animal for study on my land. The only string being that you cannot publicize the capture."

  "Why me?"

  "You're just the first one I'm approaching. I've been studying you for over a year now. You and others like you. Roy Mackal and Peter Byrne, to name a couple of y
our buddies.

  "As I told you, I'm looking to stock my zoo with specimens of every living animal." Pittman laughed.

  Kodiak was truly perplexed by this man. He had always liked the idea of a competent expedition, but after what he had witnessed earlier with the baboons and the leopard, he could not in good conscience even consider working for Emory Pittman.

  Pittman continued. "I should think you'd be sympathetic to my plight. In fact, I think there's a lot of good I can do for you and the people involved in your field of endeavor.

  "Jamie Montagna's downstairs in the library. He's the one who first brought your work to my attention, although he was a little miffed when I sent for you. He was under the misguided impression that I would simply contact you for advice while he led the actual expedition. So, I'm letting him sign the checks and call the shots. But when it comes down to the actual hunt, Kodiak, you'll be giving the orders." Pittman watched Kodiak with bemusement, then was distracted by something he saw on the nightstand. Kodiak had set the playing cards down, but there was a single card, the queen of diamonds, sticking out of the wood by its corner, like a knife.

  Kodiak and Wayne got into the elevator and headed for the first floor. Wayne asked, "So what do you think?"

  "I don't know. I sure as hell don't care for the idea of Pittman's having this animal as a personal possession. I think it does far greater harm than good to the species in general."

  Wayne chuckled. "So, you gonna go on this expedition?"

  Kodiak said, "I can always use five million dollars."

  "I thought he was offering you ten?"

  "That was for a capture."

  It then dawned on Kodiak why he disliked Pittman so much. In 1951, three months after his mother died, Kodiak found a stack of letters she had written to her father in Detroit, all of which had been returned unopened. She kept them all, burying them in a trunk in the attic. Although he never knew his maternal grandfather, these unanswered letters made him hate the useless old bastard, and he wanted to do something to rub the old man's face in the pain he had caused his own daughter.