~
She moved quickly through the scrub. The sweet scent of blood on the breeze enticed her out from the kopje where she had been basking. A guttural huff from her left, beyond a bank of candle bush and whistling acacias, told her the others had caught it to. She loped purposefully through the maze of outcrops and brush, stopping abruptly a few feet from the open trail. She hunkered down into the dust, her ears pivoting in search of sound that would indicate a threat. She froze as a pale, parchment coloured hide stepped out of the scrub a few feet away. She wouldn’t normally tolerate a subordinate approaching a kill before her, but this time she was curious. If there was a threat, it would soon reveal itself.
The young lioness stalked the carcass of the buffalo, approaching downwind and crawling on her belly, with her head held just above the ground. She crept forwards, shuffling in quick, silent flurries towards the dead bull. She rushed in from a few feet away, clamping her jaws around the bull’s mouth and nostrils as she anchored her claws into its neck for purchase. The bull did not move. Satisfied, the young lioness stood up to her full height, relaxing her stance and flicking her tail casually as she looked back into the grass-thatched scrub.
The big female emerged from the thickly entwined maze of branches behind the bull. She walked past it, holding her head high to catch the smell brought to her on the breeze. It was sweet and honey like, and she purred contentedly as she found a spot to the side of the trail laced with the scent. Her whiskers flexed, involuntarily reaching out towards the magnetic field created by the metallic thing that ticked and hissed at her in the heat. She ignored it. She had seen things like them before in human settlements. She rubbed the scent glands below her eyes and on the side of her head through the dust that still held the honey-like aroma. Then she detected it. Thinly veiled beneath the sweet scent, was a thicker, more acidic odour. She flicked out her tongue, tasting the stronger copper and iron elements within. Blood. Human blood. She grunted a warning to the others, who stood shoulder to shoulder with the young second-in-command around the carcass of the buffalo. Silently, they dispersed back into the brush as they took up their positions for the hunt.
~
Thomas crept along the passage, the only light coming from the head torches he and Catherine wore. Their long shadows reached up onto the stone walls surrounding them, distorted and elongated by the throw of the beams.
“Remember the last time we were in a cave?” Catherine whispered.
“At least this one’s warm,” Thomas shrugged.
This cave was vastly different to the home of the creature they had discovered in the Highlands of Scotland. There, the air had been thick with moisture, and pools of mineral laden water coated the walls and dripped from the ceiling. This cave was warm and dry, and well ventilated.
“There must be other openings, the breeze is fresh,” Catherine commented.
“Still no sign of your river though,” Thomas replied.
“Plenty of evidence of something else though,” she said pointedly, directing her torch towards the ground.
The prints in the dust were so numerous it was hard to distinguish them at first, but as Thomas knelt, instinctively stretching out his fingers to gauge their size, he knew they were the pugmarks of numerous lions. There were enough of them going back and forth to suggest that Catherine’s theory about the cave system being some kind of underground lion highway was probably right. As he stood up to get going again, he flinched and turned around sharply. He squinted back into the blackness as he listened intently. A knot in the pit of his stomach told him something wasn’t right. He raised his rifle, aiming it back up the passage.
~
She watched as the others scaled the rocks in total silence. They made easy jumps up onto the black basalt slabs. They instinctively split up, spreading out over the barren surface and disappearing into the cracks, squirming and wriggling through the narrow openings to drop down into the maze of corridors beneath. As they stepped into the darkness, the pupils of their eyes reacted to the light by rapidly expanding, drinking in eight times the available luminosity of a human eye. A membrane behind the lens concentrated the weak light onto the back of the retina, helping paint the dark interior of the cave complex in bluish-green tones that illuminated their path. They began to pick their way through the passageways, following the warm breeze that brought them the scent of their prey.
As she took a few steps forward, a subordinate brushed her flank lightly, in an attempt to get past. She recognised it as one of the younger lionesses, and that it was excitement that fuelled her urge to drive ahead rather than a desire to dominate. Nevertheless, a barge of her shoulder and a warning snarl put the adolescent in its place. She paused, bristling with pent up energy as she listened to the echo reverberate into the darkness ahead.
~
Thomas took a few steps back, swinging the barrel of his rifle slowly back and forth as he went. The snarl had confirmed what he’d feared, that they were no longer alone in the cave. But the sound had triggered other echoes, muffled growls and scrabbling that trickled through the rock towards them. There must be other openings along the passage, he thought as his mind raced.
“Let’s get moving,” Catherine suggested, pulling at his arm. “Do you think it’s the lions?”
“I don’t think it’s mice, put it that way,” nodded Thomas. “I don’t think we’re very welcome.”
“I think we’re lunch if we don’t move,” Catherine replied. “It’s too enclosed here to greet them appropriately.”
Thomas followed Catherine, who now also trained her rifle ahead of her. They moved quickly, ducking low overhangs and glancing back frequently. The lions were undoubtedly getting closer, but so was something else. Catherine paused for a moment.
“Do you hear that? It’s water,” she exclaimed.
“And hopefully that way out you predicted,” Thomas nodded.
They continued on, feeling their way along the walls as they followed the sound of bubbling, rushing water. Then Catherine came to a halt, in front of a round opening that formed a tunnel about four feet high and three feet across. Now, above the sound of the running water, was the dull echo of a roar. But it didn’t come from the lions behind them. Instead, the sound reverberated along the tunnel from the chamber beyond. Catherine ducked and began to creep along the passageway. Thomas did the same, bumping his head slightly as he found the ceiling a little lower than he’d expected. He followed Catherine along the claustrophobic tunnel until they emerged onto a red-grained sandstone ledge. As they peered over the lip, it became clear where the sound of the roar emanated from. A rich turquoise waterfall dropped from an almost perfectly spherical opening in the rock beside them, crashing into a foaming pool some forty feet below. From there, they could see the winding channel that led away to the south-east.
Catherine walked right up to the lip and leaned over. She glanced back at Thomas with a mischievous smile. But he didn’t have time to return it. He spun on his heels, ripping back the bolt of his rifle to feed a cartridge into the chamber. As he knelt, the beam of his head torch revealed a shadow creeping towards them through the passage, and the dull reflection of two amber discs at its centre. Thomas didn’t hesitate to fire, aiming at a spot he imagined to be about two inches above the centre of the lion’s eyes. The shadow slumped to the floor instantly, only to be engulfed by a second silhouette behind it. This time there was no eye shine to guide his shot, but he aimed high and let off a second round. The report of the rifle was answered with a savage roar, and Thomas saw the second lion jump backwards, crashing and scrabbling against the ceiling and the sides of the tunnel. He worked the bolt quickly and followed up with a third blast, this time aiming lower at what he hoped was the chest cavity. Evidently his shot was on target, as he watched the animal flop onto its back, on top of the first lion, and caught in the spine twisting death throws and limb spasms only a heart shot could produce. With the entrance to the tunnel momentarily plugged with the bodies of the t
wo lions, he turned back to Catherine.
She was eyeing another ledge on the other side of the waterfall, about ten feet away from them. It appeared to lead to a path that headed down, along the wall of the cavern.
“The way I see it, we have two choices,” she observed. “First, we take a running jump onto that ledge, then make our way down and try to find a way out at ground level. The only problem with that is if the lion’s follow us, they’re as capable as we are of reaching that path.”
“What’s the second option?” Thomas asked, already suspecting he knew the answer.
“We take the express route. We jump into the pool, and follow the river. That’s our way out,” she replied in a matter of fact tone.
“Of this life?” Thomas exclaimed.
She eyed him calmly, with her hands on her hips, as he too peered over the edge.
“How do we know the pool is deep enough?” Thomas asked.
“We don’t,” she shrugged, “but would you rather the alternative?”
Thomas glanced back towards the tunnel. He could hear scuffling and clawing echoing along the chamber. Something was trying to scrabble its way past the dead lions. He looked up into the numerous cracks and fissures surrounding them. He could imagine a lion emerging from any one of them just as easily.
“Okay, we’ll jump. But we’ll have to stow the rifles here and come back for them. They won’t take kindly to a dip. The revolvers will be okay though,” he sighed, giving in.
He searched around quickly for a crevice that was large enough to hold the guns, and he slipped them inside on top of each other. As he turned, he saw the look of horror on Catherine’s face. His eyes immediately shot to the entrance of the tunnel. A pale, straw coloured head emerged out of the darkness. A pair of amber eyes met his, but he was already running across the ledge towards Catherine. As the lioness dragged herself clear of the tunnel, Thomas followed Catherine’s lead as they leapt together from the ledge.
Time seemed to stand still as they fell feet first towards the violently foaming water. Thomas could hear nothing as he watched the surface of the water rush up to greet him. As they hit the pool, the world erupted into sound once more as the waterfall engulfed them. The icy sting of the water’s touch froze his muscles. They both went deep, bubble trails escaping from their clothing as they sank momentarily into the centre of the pool. Then he felt a slight tug that lifted his body and pulled him along. There was a mild current, and it was carrying him. His head broke the surface and he took a large gulp of air. He spotted Catherine’s white T-shirt ahead of him. She too was letting the current do the hard work for her, practically surfing as she used her arms to position herself dynamically in the water. Thomas wasn’t quite so graceful, floating along on his back and holding his head out of the water so he could keep track of Catherine. He craned his head back towards the ledge, meeting the stony gaze of the lioness as she watched them disappear from sight.
As the current swept them round a slight bend, they were greeted by a wall of rock ahead. The tributary they were in seemingly flowed straight into it. Thomas saw Catherine begin to swim urgently to the side, where she clung to a lip of rock. He followed and soon joined her.
“Are you okay?” Catherine asked him.
“Well we’re not dead yet and I’m enjoying the swim,” he grinned.
Catherine nodded and began feeling her way along the edge until she reached the rock face, where the water disappeared. She braced herself against it, and the current, as she explored below the waterline with her fingertips. Then she made her way back to Thomas.
“Okay, it looks like the water flows beneath the rock here,” she explained. “I’m just guessing from what I saw on the map, but I don’t think it goes far, and there may be places where the chamber opens up and we’ll be able to breathe.”
Thomas looked around. There were no tangible hand holds to climb the sheer walls of basalt around them, polished smooth by the passage of the tributary over countless millennia.
“Unfortunately, I don’t think we have much choice at this point,” Thomas replied.
They stared into each other’s eyes as they took a series of deep breaths. As a thunderous roar echoed throughout the chamber, they both ducked underneath the water and the wall of rock above them. Thomas felt the difference in pressure immediately as the current swept them into a dark tunnel. His natural buoyancy dragged him up to the surface, where he bumped his head against the stone ceiling. Tumbling through the water, he lost his bearings, unsure of which way was up. He calmed himself as he shut his eyes and felt his body being pulled along again by the current. Only the current had fingers, and was dragging him to the surface. Moments later, he took a long gasp of air as he found himself looking up into a sun filled sky, and Catherine stroking his hair and supporting him from beneath. He let the tips of his shoes pop up out of the water as he stretched back and winked at her.
“I think I’m done drowning for the day,” he smiled.
“That’s a nasty bash you took back there, your head’s bleeding,” she cooed, wiping away a crimson-matted clump of hair from his forehead. “Looks like we’re swimming for a while, but the good news is that it’s not too deep and there’s hardly any undertow.”
Thomas lifted his head as they drifted along slowly. The banks of the river were steep cliffs of slippery mud, backed by the solid walls of a canyon. Catherine was right, they wouldn’t be leaving the river just yet.
The mild current swept them through a bend, and up ahead Thomas could see where the tributary joined the main river. He smiled at her.
“Hard being right all the time, is it?” Thomas mused.
“No, it comes quite naturally,” Catherine smirked.
He noticed that she hadn’t yet released her grip on him, and was keeping their movements to a minimum. Her gaze patrolled the banks of the river, presumably for an opening where they might be able to scramble ashore he thought. But he also knew she was as aware as he was that African rivers were not the safest of places to take a dip. She was instinctively trying not to draw any attention to their passage.
As he looked about him, Thomas began to recognise parts of the landscape. A large tower of red sandstone marked a bend in the river he knew wasn’t too far from a crossing that led to the camp. As they passed it, he fumbled beneath the surface of the water for the Colt in its holster, under his safari vest. He took it out and held it high in the air. One of the things he appreciated about the classic revolver design was its reliability. He hadn’t wanted to take the rifles into the water because he knew the wooden stocks were likely to expand and become misshapen. But the Colt and the Smith & Wesson he’d given Catherine were not only able to survive a dunking, they could even fire underwater and still be lethal to several feet. He figured they were close enough for the shots to be heard from camp. He fired off a round as they skirted the bend, listening to the echo as it ricocheted down the canyon and dissipated into nothing. He then fired again and waited for silence before squeezing off a third shot. He knew the first shot would have gotten the attention of anyone back at camp, whereas the second and third would hopefully let them know roughly where they were, and direct their attention towards the river gorge.
He felt Catherine’s grip around his chest suddenly tighten, and he instinctively looked to the shoreline sixty feet behind them. The three Nile crocodiles squatted motionless on the bank, their jaws open as they basked in the afternoon sun. Their olive green and sulphurous yellow armoured hides shone brightly, peppered by black spots along their flanks and bellies. Thomas admired their beauty almost as much as their ability as apex predators. Second only in size to their salt water cousins, Thomas guessed each of the reptiles to be between twelve and thirteen feet long, about average size for a male.
Small gangs of male crocodiles weren’t uncommon, especially on the borders of territories of larger males, like the one they had encountered a few days before with the elephants. Nile crocodiles were one of the most social species
of their kind. Food resources and basking spots were often shared like this, but always to a strict hierarchy determined by size. Larger and older males often staked claims on quiet pools or stretches of river abundant with prey or females, but that didn’t stop them joining their smaller brethren when presented with an opportunity, such as when migrating herds forded the rivers. Nile crocodiles were more than happy to share the bounty, as long as the largest of them got their share first. They had even been known to hunt cooperatively.
As if to confirm the subject of his thoughts, the largest of the three crocodiles turned its head in their direction. It raised itself up slightly, taking a wobbly step forwards. It paused, awkwardly balancing on three legs as it contemplated Thomas and Catherine, as they ebbed further away in the embrace of the river. Like lightening, the torpedo shaped reptile shot forward, slipping down a smoothly worn slide into the water that the crocodiles had clearly used many times. The clumsiness and apparent lethargy of the reptile on land was replaced by a lithe and streamlined agility in the water. It streaked towards them with powerful and purposeful beats of its tail. About thirty feet from them, it submerged submarine-like and disappeared from the surface.
“Quick,” yelled Thomas, “dive under.”
“What?” Catherine yelled back.
“Crocodiles don’t like to attack underwater, dive, now,” Thomas commanded.
Catherine took a deep breath and then dove beneath the surface, and he watched the glimmer of her white T-shirt fade as she sank. He quickly followed suit, as the two other crocodiles slipped into the river. The water was relatively clear, with visibility good to about fifteen to twenty feet. Thomas let himself sink naturally, and he hung suspended about a foot from the sandy bottom of the river, right next to Catherine. The first crocodile emerged out of the greenish fog ahead of them. It slowed, splaying its feet wide to anchor itself in the water. It seemed unsure of the behaviour of the potential prey. Thomas watched as Catherine began to lower herself further in the water, holding herself off the bottom with her forearms. He noticed as she gripped a clump of river grass and fought to stop herself rising in the current. The crocodile turned away, disappearing back into the pea soup behind. Catherine turned to Thomas and pointed up to the surface.
The Daughters of the Darkness Page 14