Isoba was trying his best to hold back his dog, but Samson was eager for a fight, even though the odds were in favor of the giant arthropod. The scorpion’s exoskeleton was a shiny black, and it stood as tall as Isoba. It took a step forward, spreading its enormous pinchers then snapping them shut with loud clacks. Its eight legs sidestepped in unison to the left as it raised its curved tail high, positioning the stinger.
Frank aimed and fired his rifle.
The bullet creased the top of the scorpion’s head.
He’d been trying for its eyes—the thing had eight black orbs for crying out loud—figuring it was a sure shot and he couldn’t possibly miss, but he had.
Ejecting the spent shell, Frank closed the bolt and shot again. This time the bullet struck the right pedipalp, disabling the pincher at the elbow. The wounded arthropod stumbled back.
Isoba kept a tight grip on Samson’s collar and pulled the dog through the doorway into a hut.
The scorpion lunged, extending its left pincher inside the opening, but it was too wide to fit completely through.
Frank heard the loud clacking of the giant pincher as the arachnid tried to grab Isoba and Samson. He moved in and pointed the muzzle of his rifle directly at the center of the scorpion’s face and fired. This time he did hit one of the eyes, which erupted in a dark gooey mist as the bullet slammed through the scorpion’s head and scrambled its nervous system. As the black abomination fell, it impaled itself with its own stinger.
Why it did that, Frank couldn’t say. Perhaps it was a reflex—certainly not a feeble suicide attempt. Emperor scorpions were immune to their own venom.
“It’s safe to come out.”
Isoba stuck his head out and saw the massive scorpion, dead on the ground. He let go of Samson. The dog rushed over, sniffed, and paced around the creature.
Frank looked at Isoba. “I guess now we know what caused the villagers to leave.”
40
With the lion cub under her arm, Ally hiked up a grassy knoll and stopped when she reached the crest. She gazed down the slope and saw what was once a watering hole but was now a mud pit due to lack of rain. The only visible sign of freeflowing water was a small creek thirty yards away that ran along the base of a rise but no longer fed into the depression.
As she started down the hill, she noticed something moving around in the center of the mud pit.
“Oh my God,” Ally said when she realized it was Sasha. The lioness was covered in mud, her white head the only part of her not smirched. She was wallowing up to her chest. Each time she struggled to get free, the soggy bottom sucked her back down.
Ally saw a Cape buffalo, also trapped in the muck. By the way the animal was positioned, the buffalo must have been chasing Sasha and the two of them ended up getting stuck.
The buffalo was only ten feet into the mud, but Sasha was twice as far and surely doomed. The bovine’s belly was still above the surface, and it was making a concerted effort, pulling each hoof out of the boggy ground and stepping back toward the solid bank.
Sasha saw Ally, and the big cat roared.
Ally put the cub down on the ground. “Stay put.”
But of course it didn’t listen and scampered toward the edge of the mud pit to be with its mother. Ally scurried after and scooped up the impetuous cub.
Ally glanced around and saw a large rock that had to weigh at least thirty pounds. She brought the cub over, strung out the belt being used as a leash and put her foot on the end. She picked up the heavy rock and placed it on the length of the belt, anchoring the cub so that it couldn’t run off. The cub tried to pull away but got nowhere.
Sasha was growing tired, thrashing in the mud. Soon the damp earth would be hard as cement from the baking sun.
The buffalo had gotten free. The weary animal stood wobbly, its legs covered with chunky gray mud. Ally was afraid it would see her and charge.
Instead, it just turned and sauntered off into the grassland.
Maybe if she waited long enough, the mud would dry enough for her to walk across and she could figure a way to free Sasha. But it seemed an impossible task. How would she dig the enormous lioness out? For one, she didn’t have any tools. And for two, the big cat would no doubt maul her the moment she got within reach.
Ally walked up and down the shoreline trying to think of way to rescue Sasha.
Then a strange buzzing sound caught her ear. It was coming from overhead.
Ally craned her head back and looked up.
Three giant wasps swooped over the mud pit. They had black bodies with yellow legs and were six feet long. Their beating wings seemed invisible as they hovered and collected large mud balls with their feet.
One of the wasps changed direction, thrust out its stinger, and flew toward Sasha.
“Get away from her!” Ally yelled. She looked down, picked up a softball-size rock and heaved it at the menacing wasp.
She put too much oomph into the pitch and overthrew the rock, missing her target. She reached for another stone, but stopped when she heard a truck engine.
A Land Rover pulled up just above the creek. The driver’s door swung open and a big man stepped out holding a rifle. He looped the gun strap around his forearm, pressed the gunstock up against the front of his shoulder, and after gazing through a high-powered scope, fired.
Ally turned and saw the wasp that was about to attack Sasha blow apart like a clay pigeon at a skeet shoot. The other two wasps took flight.
“Thank God, you came when you did,” Ally hollered up to the man.
Finally, help had arrived.
41
Celeste had been constantly consulting her laptop since they had left the animal compound, and twice, had instructed Ryan to veer off the compass’s course. When she told him to change again, he finally put his foot down and brought the Jeep to a skidding halt.
“I thought we were looking for Ally?”
“We are,” Celeste replied.
“No, we’re not. Tell me the truth. You have no idea which way they went.”
“Ryan, I’m telling you the—” and then her voice trailed off when she saw the devastation up ahead. “What in the world?”
Ryan put both hands on the steering wheel and stared at the stand of trees.
“Those are jackalberry trees,” Celeste said. “Or what’s left of them.”
There were over a dozen trees that looked like they had been struck by lightning. Some were reduced to stumps, others split up the middle, all of them with branches snapped off.
Large heaps of sawdust—some as high as two feet—surrounded the base of the mutilated trees.
“These trees are prevalent throughout the savanna woodlands and are a major food source of fruit and leaves for most of the wildlife around here,” Celeste said.
Ryan could see scores of purple fruit lying on the ground. “Looks like they’ve been put through a wood chipper.”
“It does. Which is weird.”
“Why’s that?”
“I did some reading about the area before I came out here,” Celeste said. “Apparently, the jackalberry trees have very dense wood. It’s so hard it’s virtually impervious to termites. Which is odd when you think about it, as these trees thrive in churned soil created by these eusocial insects.”
“So what did destroy these trees?”
Celeste stepped out of the Jeep and put her laptop on the seat. “I’d like to take a look around.”
“Whoa, what about Ally?” Ryan protested.
“It’ll only take a minute.”
“Jesus,” Ryan said. He turned off the engine and climbed out.
“Let’s go this way.” Celeste walked along the outskirt of the decimated trees toward a grassy knoll. Ryan caught up to her and noticed she was following a large trail of what appeared to be ground up tan bark.
“What is that?” he asked.
“Fecal pellets.”
Ryan didn’t say anymore until they had rounded the base of the hillock and g
otten to the other side.
“Holy shit!’ he swore as he looked up.
“That is one hell of a giant termite mound,” Celeste agreed.
The insect-built structure was fifty feet tall and twenty feet in circumference at the base. Clumped dirt tapered up into five separate spires that looked like an outstretched hand with vent holes resembling broken-off fingers.
From where they stood, they could hear activity within the giant mound.
“Do you think it’s safe to be here?” Ryan asked.
“Maybe you should be asking him.” Celeste pointed to a medium-sized animal with long ears and a tubular pig-like snout routing at the base of the termite mound.
“Is that an aardvark?”
“Certainly is.”
“I’ve never seen one before except in pictures.”
“Well, now you have.”
Ryan and Celeste watched as the African ant bear used its sharp claws and began digging a hole in the mound. The insectivore was half inside the burrow when it suddenly backed out.
A yellowish-brown, winged termite soldier—the size of the aardvark—scurried out of the hole. Another giant termite followed, then more.
“What the hell?” Ryan yelled.
The aardvark rushed off but not before a winged termite landed on its back and blew up like an M80 firework, killing itself and the animal.
“Jesus, did you see that?” Ryan yelled, but Celeste was already hightailing it back to the Jeep because more termites were exiting the mound and sprouting their wings.
42
When Tyrone Vane drove up on the ridge and looked down, he couldn’t believe his luck when he saw the enormous lioness stuck in the mud pit. He turned off the engine and grabbed Gwala’s rifle from the passenger seat. Opening his door, he got out, wrapped the sling around his forearm, and looked through the scope.
At first he thought an ordinary wasp had flown onto the lens because it was enormous under the magnification. But then he realized the insect was actually hovering over the lioness—and it was gigantic. He put the thing in the middle of the crosshairs, pulled the trigger, and watched with satisfaction as it burst apart like a ruptured water balloon. He lowered the rifle and saw two more giant wasps fly away, scared off by the loud rifle blast.
This was turning out be one incredible day.
First the baboons with the huge ticks, and now giant wasps!
He got back into the Land Rover, started the engine, and plunged down the embankment. He drove the four-wheel drive vehicle into the creek. Halfway across, the water level reached midway up the doors. Gray smoke belched out the ends of the upright exhaust pipes just above the roof.
Vane goosed the gas pedal and the Land Rover emerged out of the water onto the bank. He threw the shifter into park and switched off the engine.
As he started to get out, a young woman ran up. “Thank God, you’re here. I really need your help.”
“Help?”
“The lioness. Can you help me get her out?”
“Why would you want to do that?” Vane asked curiously.
“So I can reunite her with her cub.” The woman pointed to a white baby lion tethered to a rock.
He figured the exotic lion cub was worth somewhere around $50,000 on the black market, but he wasn’t really interested. Once he had his trophy shot, he could care less what happened to the cub.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“I’m Ally. Ally Rafferty. I’m staying at the Tomie Reserve.”
Vane didn’t like the sound of that. “You’re not a ranger, are you?”
“Oh, no. I’m here on vacation with my family.”
He looked out at the lioness trapped in the bog, which did propose a problem. Sure, it was an easy shot, but then what? How would he get his picture with his kill? He certainly wasn’t going to traipse out there in the mud. He doubted if he could get two steps before the mud sucked his boots off. No, there had to be a better way.
“I think I may know a way to get her out,” Ally said.
“Let’s hear it.” Vane was more than up for any suggestions.
“See that tree over there?” Ally pointed to a tall tree with a narrow trunk. “I bet if we try cutting it down, we can shove it over onto the mud pit. Then we can throw a rope around Sasha and pull her out.”
“Just like that.” He was surprised to hear her say the lioness’s name.
“What, you don’t have an axe?”
“Better still, I have a chainsaw.”
“Is that a winch on the front of your car?”
“Certainly is.”
“So, what are we waiting for?” Ally said.
Vane was used to others doing the work for him and wasn’t overly excited about getting sweaty and dirty. He knew how to use the chainsaw and how to operate the winch; and had to admit, the young woman had a well thought out plan.
Seemed a shame he was going to spoil it.
He got to work and dug the chainsaw out from under some gear in the cargo hold.
Cutting down the tree had been easier than he thought. He’d given the trunk a quick shove, praying that the tree didn’t fall on top of the lioness. It narrowly missed her by a few feet, which got her to growl and bare her teeth.
“Do you have a rope?” Ally asked. “I can walk across and loop it around Sasha.”
“I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean?”
“That cat will rip your head off. I have a better idea.” Vane went back to the rear of the Land Rover and rummaged around until he found a tranquilizer gun. He opened a small box containing sedative darts and inserted one into the chamber. He grabbed a coil of rope and some cargo straps that he could join together and fabricate a harness.
Vane walked around the side of the vehicle and joined Ally.
“Here’s how this is going to work. I shoot her with a dart, and when we think she’s pretty much out, you go out there and hook this around her,” he said and handed her the harness.
Vane hit the lioness on the first shot. He figured it would take a few minutes for the sedative to kick in. He still needed to uncoil the cable on the winch and hook the rope and harness on the end.
“Why don’t you sit in the Land Rover, enjoy the A/C,” Vane said.
“Okay, thanks. Can I bring the cub?”
“Why don’t we leave it where it is for now.”
“Sure, okay.” Ally glanced over at the cub, and then walked slowly over to the passenger side. She opened the door and got inside.
Vane opened the driver’s door and started the vehicle. Cool air blew out from the vents on the dashboard. He engaged the winch and shut the door.
It took him a couple minutes to splay out the cable and fasten the rope and harness. He looked up and saw Ally sitting up front. She was staring down at something.
He walked up and looked through the side window.
Ally was viewing the pictures on his tablet.
43
“Uh-oh,” Ryan said as he ran through the ruined timber and saw the sounder of warthogs milling around the Jeep. There were maybe twenty, eating the jackalberry fruit lying on the ground.
The pigs had large tusks and were mostly gray with thick manes running midway down their spines. The males were as big as 300 pounds, the females and younger ones closer to 200 pounds, along with a few piglets, their faces pressed in the purplish mush.
“Oh, God, what’d we do?” Celeste said in a panic.
Ryan glanced over his shoulder and saw the giant termites with their enormous wings flying towards them. He reached down and picked up a broken-off branch to use as a club. Striking one of those monstrous termites was probably a bad idea, especially after he’d seen the one land on the aardvark and blow up like some crazy kamikaze.
“We need a diversion,” Ryan said, dropping the branch. “Grab some rocks so we can get the pigs’ attention.”
“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“Got a better one?”
&nb
sp; Celeste bent down and picked up a baseball-size rock.
Ryan grabbed a couple stones and heaved one in the air. It came down and struck a boar on the rump. The swine snorted, turned its body half around, and looked straight at Ryan but didn’t charge like he had hoped.
Celeste threw her rock and hit another pig on the head. This time she got more of a reaction because the angry animal let out a loud grunt and broke into a fast run, spurring on followers, until the entire group was stampeding toward Ryan and Celeste.
Ryan grabbed Celeste’s hand. “Hurry, up that tree.”
He boosted her so she could grab a low-hanging branch. She reached up farther and continued to climb. Ryan scrambled up and joined her on a bough that still had a few thick-leaved branches. They watched from their hide as the small squadron of termites swooped over the pigs.
The warthogs were fast runners, some even dodging the aerial assaults. A termite landed on a sow’s back and exploded. The animal squealed but didn’t go down even though there was an ugly raw wound on its back.
Ryan saw a hog hit a termite head-on that had landed on the ground and then trample over the giant insect, grinding its fragile wings in the dirt.
There was so much squealing, Ryan could only imagine what it might sound like in a slaughterhouse. The melee moved through the damaged jackalberry trees and passed under Ryan and Celeste.
“Now, let’s go!” Ryan said.
They jumped down out of the tree and dashed toward the Jeep while the wild pigs bolted in the other direction and the termites returned to their behemoth mound.
Suddenly, Celeste tripped and landed on her face.
Ryan turned and came back. “Are you hurt?”
Her chin was scraped up from the fall. Ryan extended his hand and pulled her to her feet.
That’s when they both saw the object that had caused Celeste to trip.
A chunk of igneous rock was embedded in the ground. It was moss green and the size of a medicine ball.
“Holy crap, Ryan. We found one!”
“That’s a meteorite?”
“It must have come down through those trees.”
The Next World Page 9