by Bear Grylls
Mak tensed with his penknife outstretched, hoping the blade could somehow defend him.
Then, with a meaty thud, something careened into the side of the snake’s head – knocking it off target. The python’s blunt nose slammed into the tree roots a centimetre from Mak, but with such force that the bark split.
Just as suddenly, Mak’s world resumed normal speed.
Diya had saved him, leaping down from the tree and brandishing a thick branch she’d broken off. She’d struck the snake with such force that Mak could see the blood seeping from under its scales. Diya bounced off the snake’s head, and crashed into a bush – screaming in pain as she landed on her twisted ankle.
Mak sprinted to help her stand. The snake’s tail was still round Hathi, but had slackened enough to allow the elephant to breathe.
The python swivelled round to face the humans, its tongue flicking, as if in a last burst of anger and effort. It reared up, already taller than Mak.
Diya’s tales of loggers eaten alive came flooding back to him. No longer fairy tales, but hard facts. Monster-sized snakes really did exist in the jungle. And this one was ready to kill them both.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Being so close to the giant python, Mak could see its muscles tense. He pushed Diya behind him, hoping she’d have the sense to run if the snake bit him.
‘Get away!’ Mak bellowed.
The snake’s jaws extended once more as it prepared to strike.
Mak needed to think fast.
He crouched down and scooped up a whole armful of dead leaves from the ground, and like a confetti firework he launched the bundle of leaves and earth right at the snake’s hissing head.
The python, confused, struck blindly at the leaves, and in the briefest of moments Mak had darted away from the snake, avoiding its head.
Like a gazelle, he ran round the snake and started tugging on the heavy coils still looped round Hathi. He pulled with all his might, but the python was still holding the squirming elephant fast.
Hathi kicked out, trying to free a leg, as Mak kept uncoiling the snake’s body. Its hissing head swung round to deal with the annoyance, once and for all. Mak stumbled back again just as Hathi was now beginning to wrestle free from the snake’s grasp. But in the darkness, there was no way to see that behind Mak was a steep slope – and Mak tripped, finding himself tumbling down the embankment.
Rocks and branches thumped his back and chest as he rolled head over heels. Then his head bumped against a rock, and the metallic taste of blood dripped into his mouth as he came to rest several metres away.
Mak tried to sit upright, but the world around him spun and he could still see lights dancing across his vision . . .
Lights?
No . . . they were real lights. Bright torches bobbing at the top of the embankment – and with them clear loud voices shouting in Hindi. It was Buldeo and his men!
Mak tried to crawl back up the slope. A wave of dizziness struck him and he staggered sideways into the earth. He could just make out Buldeo and Girish slashing the snake with machetes. The serpent relinquished its grip on Hathi and turned on the new threat with a loud hiss.
A gunshot rang out and the snake jolted for a second. Lalu stood to the side with his rifle, and quickly began to focus for another shot. He barely had time to position his rifle against his shoulder to fire before the snake lashed out at him, and bit him square on the shoulder, sinking its teeth into flesh and bone.
Lalu let out a blood-curdling scream, but almost instantly the snake swung the rest of its body over and began to wrap its deadly coils round him.
Lalu’s screaming pierced the night. Buldeo lunged at the reptile, blindly hitting out with a rock he’d picked up, striking its head where it was attached to Lalu’s shoulder. The beast recoiled, hissing.
It had released Lalu, but now lunged out wildly at its new attacker.
Mak just made out Buldeo rolling aside and Lalu fleeing into the darkness with another terrified scream.
He tried to stand again, but his swimming head made him sway and he fell backwards, sliding further down the slope. He reached out to grab anything to help him stand, but his vision was blurring, and he collapsed to the ground once more.
In the criss-crossing torch beams dancing at the top of the slope, he watched Buldeo and Girish continuing to slash at the snake with repeated blows from their machetes. It was gruesome, but finally the snake gave up the fight and lay there dead, although its muscles kept twitching violently, looking as if it might come alive again at any moment.
Mak couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the python that had only been trying to hunt for a meal – even a human one.
He fought a sense of grogginess. From where he lay, he saw Hathi stand, freed from the snake’s coils. But the fight had weakened the elephant and he was in no condition to fend off Buldeo as a thick rope was thrown round his neck.
Mak heard Diya scream as the men found her, and Hathi whimpered in fear . . .
Then, for Mak, everything went dark.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
It was still dark when Mak woke.
His head was thumping. A quick check with his hand revealed that the blow to the side of his skull was small, and the blood had dried, even if it was still tender. He scrambled to the top of the embankment in the darkness.
Everybody had gone, Hathi included. The enormous snake lay dead among the ferns. Mak ran his hand along its still-warm flank and felt a pang of pity. He’d hoped he could free Hathi and let the snake live; it had survived so many years in the untouched forest only to be butchered the moment it had encountered man.
Mak searched the area methodically on his hands and knees. It was too dark to make out any details, but he was desperate to find Hathi’s tracks. His careful sweeping of the ground was rewarded when he found his penknife. He pocketed it and continued searching, forcing himself to cover small square areas so he didn’t overlook anything or double-back on himself.
The technique worked.
He stumbled across Lalu’s belt, poking from the grass, still with his torch and machete hanging from it. The last he’d seen of Lalu was the man running for his life into the jungle. Had he not returned? Had he got lost? Or run off the cliff, maybe? There was no way of knowing.
Steeling himself, Mak unclipped the blade and torch. At first the torch wouldn’t switch on, but a quick thump brought it to life. With the batteries nearly drained, the beam wasn’t strong, but it was enough for him to spot Hathi’s tracks leading into the jungle, complete with those of Buldeo and Girish.
He hoped that Diya had been loaded on to Hathi’s back.
Mak felt for the pouch on his trousers and was relieved to find the satellite phone still inside. He weighed the phone in his hand, debating whether he should call his sister for help, now the situation was so serious. Diya had been kidnapped by a pair of cutthroats who hadn’t hesitated to shoot at them, and he had no way of knowing if she was still alive.
But what could his sister do to help? A search party wouldn’t be able to reach them any time soon, and he didn’t even know exactly where they were, anyway. Helicopters had nowhere to land, and if anybody did locate them, Buldeo and Girish would have already vanished into the jungle.
Mak put the satellite phone away, thinking hard. He was on his own. It was up to him to find his friends before it was too late.
The torch was necessary for Mak to navigate through the thick jungle. In places, the darkness was so intense it seemed to swallow the dim beam of light. Under the thick canopy there was no breeze, and the air smelt stagnant and felt overly warm.
The dense foliage left regular signs of the group’s passing. Branches had been snapped by Hathi, the ground churned by their collective heavy footsteps. Buldeo was obviously not worried about anybody following them. He supposed that the men were keen not to run into any more colossal snakes in this part of uncharted wilderness.
Eventually, when he started to feel dizzy
, Mak was forced to stop and rest for several minutes. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, but was surprised at how far Buldeo had managed to travel.
He switched off his torch to save the battery and made himself close his eyes. When he opened them after several minutes, he saw an array of subtle blue and green lights speckled across the trees like miniature star fields. It was the jungle’s bioluminescence – chemicals within insects and plants giving off the faintest light. It was a rare and beautiful sight to behold.
Glow bugs zipped around his head with carefree abandon. Mak felt himself relax for an unguarded moment, almost letting himself fall asleep . . .
He jolted himself awake just in time. ‘Do NOT nod off!’ he said aloud. He shook his head to fend off sleep. He couldn’t afford to stop and nap – that would only increase Buldeo’s lead. He rubbed the cut on the side of his head and wondered if the blow was clouding his senses.
Onwards. That was the only option he had. Sleep could wait.
He estimated that he’d walked for another thirty minutes before the trees thinned out. Occasional patches of star-spangled sky could be seen overhead, and a gentle breeze now blew away the cloying stuffy atmosphere.
Up ahead was a light. Mak had to rub his eyes to make sure fatigue wasn’t playing tricks with his mind. No. He saw what he saw. It was a campfire.
Cautiously, he crept a little closer. Then he lay still and waited, his heart thumping. All remained quiet. He plucked up all the courage he could muster and crept even closer.
Soon he could make out things in their camp. He could clearly see Hathi, roped to a tree. Next to the elephant was Diya crouched on the ground, her hands bound together. And flanking her on each side were Buldeo and Girish.
Lalu was nowhere to be seen.
But, still, how on earth was Mak ever going to overpower the remaining two men, both armed with rifles, and save his friends?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Diya struggled against her bonds with renewed energy, but still the ropes held. She glanced at Buldeo and Girish, who now lay by the fire.
Girish snored and rolled to his other side; Buldeo rubbed his eyes as he fought to stay awake on lookout duty.
The men’s clothes were stained with the snake’s blood, which they’d tried to clean off using water from a small brook that gurgled through the glade they’d chosen for camp. Their outer clothes hung from sticks close to the fire, and damp boots were hung upside down to dry.
Hathi was tied to a tree next to Diya. The rope round his neck had turned his skin red raw where he had attempted to break it, and now his rebellious spirit appeared crushed. He stood silent, head down. Beaten.
During the rush through the jungle, Buldeo had threatened Diya’s life if she should scream or struggle. She knew what a vile man he was, and was terrified that if she didn’t escape soon, then Buldeo would run out of reasons to keep her alive.
Just then she heard a noise.
‘Pssst!’
Diya flinched, expecting a snake to rise from the bushes. She looked around when she heard it again . . . then she craned her head upwards—
Little Wolf! she almost shouted, but quickly checked herself.
Mak was suspended upside down from the branches above her. He put a finger to his lips, winked and disappeared back into the tree. Diya had no idea what he had planned, but one thing she had learned was to trust this boy.
Mak had circled the entire campsite in case Buldeo had laid any snares or tripwires, but had found nothing. If the men thought Mak was still alive, they didn’t seem too concerned about him turning up.
That was their first mistake.
On his target recce, he had been forced to work with the light from the campfire. And it had almost proved disastrous.
He’d blundered into a thorny bush that cut his arm, belly-crawled through a stream that had soaked him to the bone, and almost walked headlong into a rotting stump that was the home of several nasty-looking scorpions with tails that quivered threateningly. They may have been small, but the oversized venom glands on their tails told him that the poison in them would do very nasty things.
Only once did he think Buldeo had heard him, and that was when he reached Hathi. The elephant snorted in what Mak knew was delight. Mak pressed flat against the tree as Buldeo looked round and told the elephant to shut up.
The last thing Mak needed was for Buldeo to become curious or to come over and check on the elephant.
He’d decided to climb the tree and work his way to a position above Diya so he could lower himself right next to her. He hoped that up above was the last place Buldeo would think of keeping watch.
Diya’s determined smile was enough to convince him that she was fit enough for their escape, but even in the low light he noticed that the boot on her injured foot was unlaced wide open, and her swollen ankle looked more like a ball.
Escaping quickly on foot would be impossible.
He needed to neutralize the threat. But the men were too big to face in a fight.
Armed only with a penknife, satellite phone and atorch, Mak pondered on what he could do.
His choices were limited.
As he slipped back down from the tree, he shook that thought from his head. No, he had survived for weeks in the jungle on his own. He knew that limited options just meant a lack of imagination. He needed to think like a survivor once more.
Mak looked around the jungle and then smiled.
Of course – he was surrounded by options . . .
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Buldeo checked Girish was still asleep before pulling out the small metal flask hidden in his jerkin. He took a swig of the whiskey inside. The sharp taste was enough to rekindle his senses once more.
Buldeo and Girish had considered using the elephant to haul the giant snake’s carcass out of the jungle. Something that big might be worth a fortune to a collector, but they’d decided instead to leave it and focus on getting the elephant back to civilization. Back to work. That was their priority now.
Stifling a yawn, Buldeo looked over to check on his prisoners. They were still there and hadn’t moved. He calculated that by late afternoon tomorrow, they would reach the area used by loggers and would be able to hitch a lift back to town. Between now and then he had to figure out what to do with the girl. Perhaps it would be best to leave her tied to the tree? The jungle would take care of her eventually . . .
He closed his eyes and used his backpack as a pillow, his toes warming near the fire. He wouldn’t sleep, he assured himself, just allow his eyes to rest as the warmth from the whiskey flowed through his veins.
Mak had been waiting patiently for an opportunity. Just when he considered asking Diya to create a distraction, he saw Buldeo’s eyes close.
Mak didn’t waste any time. He slipped off his shirt and wrapped it round one hand. He was going to need protection for his plan. Crawling on all fours, ignoring the sharp twigs and stones scratching his bare tummy, he headed straight for the rotting tree stump.
A quick prod inside exposed several angry-looking scorpions. Using his protected hand, he quickly plucked them up by the tail and dropped them into the rest of the shirt, which he splayed open like a sheet.
With four angry scorpions waving their tails, Mak gathered the corners of his shirt into a pouch and, as stealthily as he could, crawled over to where the clothes were drying near the fire.
Mak took care to make sure the men’s hanging jackets were between him and Buldeo, acting as a screen.
He reached the boots and gingerly took them off the branches from where they hung. Placing them on the ground, he carefully slipped a scorpion into each boot. He waited a minute to check they weren’t crawling out, knowing that they’d like a dark, damp place in which to hide.
So far, so good. Then he hung the boots back on the branches.
Suddenly Buldeo jerked awake.
Mak caught sight of him from round the edge of the shirt. The man was looking straight at him . .
.
Mak felt a shiver run though him. He expected Buldeo to shout and scream, but instead the man just stared. Then he took a stick and poked the fire, pushing another log into the flames. Staring at the bright flames had all but ruined Buldeo’s night vision, and Mak realized he was concealed just enough to remain invisible if he didn’t move.
He forced himself to stay still and wait for Buldeo to lie back and close his eyes.
A few tense minutes later, Mak crawled backwards to the safety of darkness. He circled the camp and emerged behind Diya, placing his hand over her mouth so she didn’t say anything. His penknife easily severed her bonds and he helped her stand. She gave a sharp intake of breath the moment she put any weight on her ankle.
‘You’re going to have to ride Hathi again,’ Mak whispered.
They moved to the elephant, making low shushing noises in the hope that he didn’t bellow loudly with excitement. Hathi seemed to understand the need for silence, and the moment Mak cut the rope from his neck he trotted into the deeper jungle with barely a sound.
Hathi’s trunk brushed across Mak’s face in thanks. Mak scratched him between the eyes, then helped Diya on to the elephant’s back.
‘Come on,’ he whispered. ‘We don’t have much time.’
They had less time than he thought. He suddenly heard a shout of alarm from the camp as Buldeo woke up and found his captive missing.
‘Go!’ hissed Mak, shoving Hathi in the direction he’d identified would take them back towards their destination.
Mak ran ahead with the torch in one hand, leading a way for them through the undergrowth. Hathi kept close behind as the men’s voices rose in anger. Mak couldn’t resist a quick look behind.