The Jungle Warrior (2 page)

“Maybe we should go and pay him a visit?” he had suggested during one driving lesson. “Check he's OK.”

At first, no one believed Jane's tales of meeting the mysterious “White Ape,” or
Negoogunogumbar,
the evil spirit the locals all feared—a man who had been raised by wild apes. It wasn't until Tarzan had rescued the loggers from Tafari and the hands of the other jungle rebels that they finally accepted he was a living, breathing man. Not just a man, according to details Jane had uncovered through her Internet research—Tarzan was an English aristocrat, the rightful Lord Greystoke and heir to a vast fortune.

Now that Clark and Robbie were suddenly showing more of an interest in Tarzan, it was easy for Jane to see the spark of greed that burned in Clark's eyes and she ignored their requests to be introduced to him properly. Even if she'd wanted to, she couldn't. She hadn't seen Tarzan since he'd led them all back to the old Karibu Mji camp and then vanished into the jungle.

Jane kept a constant eye on the trees for any sign of him. Even though he hadn't shown himself, she was convinced he was out there. Watching.

•••

Inside the camp office, Robbie drank a pint of cold water in one go. He was parched after the long drive from Sango, the nearest supply town. The camp's new location was far from any government taskforces patrolling the area, but it meant an almost six-hour drive along punishing rocky roads that were no wider than animal trails.

“Did you get it?” Clark asked impatiently.

Robbie pulled a crumpled brown envelope from his safari jacket and tossed it onto the desk. Clark opened it and eagerly extracted the papers from inside. They were printouts of various websites, all faded and poor quality.

“Not bad, not bad at all, mate,” said Clark, reading through. He pointed to the figures on one page. “Is this right?”

Robbie shrugged. “As far as I can tell.”

Clark gave a low whistle. “That's a lot of cash.”

Robbie nodded absently. He'd spent the best part of two hours trawling through the Internet, gathering any information he could on the Greystokes. He knew Jane had done the same, but Clark had explicitly told him not to involve her.

“There were no emails from them,” Robbie added.

Clark put the papers down and stared thoughtfully out of the window. “They're not going to believe us without solid proof.”

Clark had contacted the family the moment Jane had revealed the ape-man was their long-lost heir and worth a fortune. Clark was counting on the family offering a substantial reward that would set him and Robbie up for life.

“I don't know why we don't let Archie in on this. He'll get Jane to tell us more,” urged Robbie.

Clark laughed as he carefully folded the printouts back into the envelope. “Oh, no. Not that we won't cut him in on the reward,” he quickly added. “But tellin' him now ain't right. Firstly, that girl's got her dad wrapped around her finger. Arch still feels guilty after what happened. Secondly, you know what he's like.”

Robbie studied Clark. He was South African and in his forties, although he acted like a man half his age. Robbie owed Clark everything and this new opportunity was giving him the chance to make a very real fortune—more than he could ever earn logging rare hardwoods. With it he could finally be free of his past and start a new life. But that didn't mean he approved of the way Clark was exploiting Jane's friendship with Tarzan.

“He would tell Jane everything we've been planning,” Robbie said quietly.

“Exactly!”

“What's so bad about that?” Robbie hated going behind Jane's back.

Clark gave him a hard stare. “We don't want her to go and scare our boy off, do we? After all we're doin' what she wanted. Wasn't she the one thinkin' it best we reunite him with his family? Not my fault she had a change of heart. We're helpin' him find out about his past.”

Robbie felt his cheeks burn, even though he was certain Clark hadn't intentionally directed the last comment at him. Jane had let slip that he thought he'd killed his stepfather, but after realizing her mistake, she convinced everybody it had been a simple accident back in New York, not anything more sinister. He assumed nobody knew anything further and he hoped Jane would keep it that way—yet paranoia crept over him and he couldn't stop the words tumbling from his mouth.

“What's so good about that?”

He tried to avoid eye contact but he could see Clark looking at him oddly and, not for the first time, Robbie wondered how much more Clark knew about his past.

“Some of us may be runnin' from our past. But some blokes, like our friend Tarzan, just need a little help to stop runnin'.” Clark gave a lengthy pause, then added, “Don't ya think?”

Robbie changed the subject. “I think we're not going to get much further than the contents of that envelope without a little more help.” He glanced out of the window and noticed how dark it was getting. “I'd better unload the supplies off the jeep.”

He'd made it to the door when Clark called out in a low voice, “Proof, mate. That's all we need, not help. Proof that Tarzan really is the rightful Lord Greystoke. Proof that there really is a crashed plane out there”—he waved a finger toward the jungle—“and that his family was onboard when they went missin'.”

Robbie nodded, then quickly left the cabin and walked over to the jeep. Already the sun was hovering close to the tree line, casting ruby-red light across the clouds. The loggers were returning from their explorations, chainsaws and machetes slung across shoulders. Robbie waved a silent greeting to each of them, knowing they'd be too exhausted to engage in conversation. They headed to the bar where the camp's cook, caretaker, and part-time teacher, Esmée, had a stew going. Robbie's stomach rumbled as he caught the delicious aroma.

At the jeep, he pulled the loading straps free and heaved a pair of rice sacks onto his shoulder. He trekked toward the bar and saw Jane was still outside, book in hand but her attention on the trees. He knew she was hoping Tarzan would appear. Although she'd often told him about the derelict aircraft hidden in the jungle, the place where Tarzan and his ape family lived, she had never once offered to take him there. Robbie sighed; if he could locate it then he'd have concrete proof that the Earl of Greystoke had been found.

Then the reward would be theirs, all his problems would disappear, and he could at last turn his back on the jungle for good.

A
cool breeze gusted between the mighty mountain peaks, hauling in heavier rain clouds. The rain drummed on the fuselage of the aircraft lying on the edge of a broad plateau. Over the years, vegetation had clung to the plane, camouflaging it from prying eyes. One wing had been torn off against the mountain, the other stretched over the cliff. Ordinarily the cliff top offered an unparalleled view across a lake, but today it was smothered in cloud.

Several gorillas sheltered by broad tree trunks and leafy canopies around the plane. They watched the weather cleanse the mountain as they waited patiently for the storm to pass.

Tarzan, however, shifted restlessly as he waited for the rain to stop. A large hole in the fuselage formed an artificial cave. It was there he took refuge, and without the long, thick fur the gorillas possessed, he shivered. A young ape rolled carefree at his feet. Karnath, orphaned by the rebel Tafari, now kept as close to Tarzan as possible, even though a kindly female gorilla had adopted him as her own. Karnath jumped as lightning flickered across the sky. Tarzan gave a series of throaty grunts to assure him everything was OK and the gorilla continued playing, bouncing across the ageing aircraft seats, even when the thunder shook the mountain.

Tarzan envied Karnath. He wished he could just ignore the problems of his
mangani
family. Not only were they grieving for their lost family members after Tafari's attack, but they were also dangerously low on food. The
mangani
had spent too long in the immediate area. Now choice shoots and bark were at a premium. Tarzan knew they must move on to allow the jungle to heal. His family usually migrated in a circular path around the mountain, always returning to this home, and a welcome feast, months later.

But outside pressures had Tarzan on edge. While he feared no living creature himself, he feared what others would do to his family. To avoid areas Tafari's men had tainted and the swathes of jungle the loggers had destroyed, Tarzan would have to lead them to places he had only explored long ago, as a child. And he was not entirely certain what he would now find there.

Thinking about the loggers brought Jane to mind. Tarzan felt comfortable in her company. He enjoyed learning and she had taught him many new things about the world around him. It had been good to have somebody to talk to after many years. The last human contact he'd had was with a French United Nations officer called D'Arnot, whom he had found wounded in the jungle.

The officer had taught Tarzan to speak English and educated him on the dangers from the outside world that threatened his way of life. A firm friendship grew, but D'Arnot was curious to discover where Tarzan came from, so he left one day hoping to find answers and solemnly promised to return. After many months, Tarzan found D'Arnot's corpse, half eaten by the jungle. His friend had tried to honor his promise, but it had cost him his life.

Tarzan hoped a similar fate didn't await Jane. The jungle was a wild and unpredictable place, for anyone.

A coarse bark echoed across the plateau. It was Kerchak, the biggest silverback in the tribe. He walked past Tarzan with an arrogant swagger. The silverback would have been leader of the
mangani
if it weren't for Tarzan, and whenever he went off exploring he left the elderly silverback in charge. But every so often, Kerchak would test Tarzan, checking he was still fit to be leader.

Tarzan maintained steely eye contact with the gorilla. It was a sure sign of aggression. Kerchak roared, baring his huge incisors—each one as long as Tarzan's fingers. The circular scar on Tarzan's shoulder burned as he remembered the fight with Kerchak that had eventually won him dominance, almost at the cost of losing his arm. The great ape ripped up a sod of earth and flung it at Tarzan.

Tarzan didn't react. He just growled in retaliation. Without turning around, he knew Karnath had stopped playing and was cowering at the back of the aircraft hoping there wouldn't be a fight.

Kerchak thought he sensed weakness and took a loping step toward Tarzan. The pair had played such games many times before, but Tarzan was not in the mood today. With the terrible roar of a bull male, he sprang at Kerchak. The gorilla didn't see Tarzan's leg deliver the sweeping kick that knocked his mighty arms aside and suddenly he found himself falling forward. The next second Tarzan was crouching on Kerchak's back, rubbing the same clod of muddy earth into the gorilla's face.

Tarzan laughed as Kerchak blinked mud from his eyes, then he flipped from the ape's back and landed on top of the aircraft's fuselage, where he beat his chest and roared to the storm clouds. A clap of thunder carried Tarzan's cry across the mountain.

The other gorillas that had been watching the half-hearted challenge hooted as Kerchak loped away to clean himself, casting a venomous glance at Tarzan as he did so.

Tarzan felt no malice toward Kerchak. It was just the old silverback's way of reminding him that they needed to move on and, if Tarzan wasn't going to lead them, he would.

With a sigh, Tarzan watched as Karnath snatched at raindrops falling past the cave entrance. The young ape was one friend he could rely on.

•••

“I want to go to Sango,” Jane said to Robbie. She had waited until they were alone in a quiet corner of the bar. The loggers had slowly dispersed after a hard day's work. Clark and Archie sat at a table, eating and talking together. Robbie and Mister David, the camp's unofficial foreman, had been playing cards until Robbie quit the game after losing too much money to the grinning Congolese man.

“I won't be going for another five days,” Robbie replied. He knew Jane was keen to go to town, but he'd slipped away on supply runs when she wasn't paying attention because he was under strict orders from Archie not to let her leave the camp.

“What's stopping us going tomorrow?”

“I have to work.”

“Messing around with the jeep's engine, that's not . . .” She bit her lip. She wanted Robbie's help so it was wise not to annoy him. “I'm sure you won't be missed.”

“Maybe not, but I'm sure your dad would miss you.” Robbie felt sorry for her. He could see she was getting frustrated within the confines of the camp. It would drive him crazy too. “Look, ask Archie about coming with me next time. We've got the sat phones, maybe he'll be OK if you just ask.”

Jane looked over at her dad. After everything they'd been through together in the jungle it was difficult to be angry with him, but she still resented him limiting her movements. “Yeah, right!” she scoffed. “He wants to keep me here like a caged animal!”

Robbie stood up, eager not to start an argument.

“That's because he cares. And after last time . . .” Everybody had been worried when Jane went missing. He wanted to remind her that he had also risked his life searching for her. He wanted to point out that she was lucky to have somebody who looked out for her. Instead, he swallowed his irritation. “Look, if you want to get out of here we could go for a little exploration. Maybe go and find Tarzan.” He was fishing for any lead from Jane that would take them to the crashed aircraft.

“I don't think he wants to be found.”

“Who knows what somebody like him wants?”

Jane opened her mouth to speak, but before she could tell him just how
smart
Tarzan was, Robbie added, “We should go see him. Check if he's all right. Head up to that plane you say he lives in.”