Ghost Leopard (A Zoe & Zak Adventure #1) (24 page)

A stalactite whipped by my ear.

“We need to get out of here,” Amala said.

Another stalactite flew by, glowing like a deadly missile. The bhagwan was hurling the sharp stalactites one after the other, but Mukta didn’t seem concerned that they would hit him at all. Probably because he chose that moment to fade from view entirely. He just disappeared. What seemed like an invisible wall was left in his place. Stalactite after stalactite smashed to bits as they hit the spot where Mukta had levitated.

“Follow me,” Amala said.
 

I tore my attention away from where Mukta had been and followed Amala through the darkness into a low-ceilinged cavern.
 

“It’s dark in here,” Zak said.

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw that we were on the edge of a deep pool.

“We need to swim,” Amala said.

“But you’re wearing a sari,” I said. “It could wrap up around your legs. It’s dangerous.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Zak tied Stryker around his waist and stepped into the pool. He lost his footing almost right away and was up to his neck in water. I got into the cool cave water behind him. Stalagmites rising from the bottom of the pool cast an eerie glow. I could just make out an iron grate on the other side of the pool. Then Amala got into the water. She left her sari on but it was weird. When she got into the water behind us, I could barely see her legs. It was almost as if her bottom half wasn’t there.

“We need to swim under the grate,” Amala said.

Before Amala could finish speaking, Rhino Butt’s goons had entered the cavern. Zak swam arm over arm in front of me, but he kept glancing backward, a frightened look on his face. I looked back myself and watched as the two goons’ faces stretched and their jaws lengthened, fur growing over their bodies. Their eyes yellowed, blood-shot veins spidering out around their pupils. I didn’t need to watch the whole transformation like some kind of deer stuck in the headlights, so I put my energy back into swimming. We were close to the iron grate now. It descended from the low rock ceiling down to the water line. Amala dove below the water first. Zak quickly followed. I dove down after them and though I could see Zak, I couldn’t see Amala in front of us. I thought it was probably because it was dark.
 

I felt a sudden weight on my back and turned my head in the dark water to see Rhino Butt’s goons’ glowing eyes. The grate was just in front of me, but the goon clawed me backward. I grabbed onto the grate’s rusty iron bars with my fingers. I was just able to hold on as the goon clawed himself closer. I knew I was going to have to do something, so I folded my legs up into my stomach then kicked out with both feet. I thought I was done for, but it worked. I hit the goon right in his big old monkey nose, smashing him backward. I took what was left of my breath to dive under the grate, gasping for air on the other side.

“Let’s get out of here!”

I looked up to see Amala and Zak aboard a bamboo raft. I pulled myself up out of the water as quickly as I could.

“What were those guys?” I asked.

“Those that were here before,” Amala said.

“How long before?”

“Many thousands of years before,” Amala said. “They are the Vanara: very old creatures that come from the time of the Monkey.”

“You said that you’d answer our questions later,” Zak said. “It’s later. Who are you?”

“I’m a friend, Zak. I’m a friend working very, very hard to ensure that the Ghost Leopard is protected.”

“Is that all?”

“It’s all for now.”

I would have liked a better answer too but, unlike Zak, I didn’t think that then and there was the greatest time to get one. Not with those Vanara things behind us. So I took hold of a long bamboo pole and pushed us off.

The caverns were like a swiss cheese of rocky rooms. We had barely poled the raft out of the space we were in, when we came upon a long crack in the cave wall. Looking through the crack, I saw through to a small torch-lit cavern. I slowed the raft. Something about the place drew me in. I needed to see what was inside of there.

“We must keep going,” Amala said.

“Wait.”

I didn’t know what we were waiting for, but I knew we couldn’t go on. Not yet. It wasn’t long before I saw the reason why. Mukta materialized out of thin air. His legs were crossed and his skin looked clammy as he slowly descended from his levitation to the cave floor. It was obvious that the flying stalactites had taken their toll on him. He seemed to be very tired. Mukta took a moment to gather his breath and pick himself up. He wiped his brow, and as he did, I realized that he wasn’t alone.
 

“Your strength has left you, old man,” the bhagwan said.

The bhagwan stepped into the light. His face wasn’t furry anymore and his jaw had returned to normal, but he still had his tail. Knowing what was lurking just beneath the surface of that tight waxy skin almost made him scarier to me. Mukta, however, didn’t seem worried that the bhagwan had appeared. In fact, he looked calmer than ever. He crossed his arms, sitting back down on the cave floor as though he was preparing himself. I felt Zak squeezing over my shoulder to get a look. The bhagwan wrapped his tail around an enormous stalactite hanging directly above Mukta. It didn’t look good. I was pretty sure Mukta would die if he just sat there. But I was also pretty sure he had a plan. He had to have one right? He was this super yogi guy. Why wouldn’t he have a plan?
 

Mukta didn’t try to move as the bhagwan cracked the stalactite from its base. He just sat there, his arms crossed and his eyes closed. I could barely watch. I almost turned away, but I knew I had to see what happened. The stalactite thundered down. It entered Mukta’s chest at a high angle cutting through him like a knife through butter. Whoa. I instantly wished I hadn’t seen it. I could tell Zak had already looked away. But Mukta didn’t scream. He didn’t moan. Instead, he just sat there, breathing calmly, the stalactite speared right through him. Then he spoke.

“There is a story of the old yogi and his mortal enemy,” Mukta said.

“His mortal enemy destroys him?” the bhagwan replied.

“Yes. The yogi is reduced to no more than dust. His mortal enemy attends a grand banquet to celebrate his triumph. He eats and drinks until he can eat and drink no more.”

“Why waste your dying breath, old man?”

“Because you wish to know.”

“Do I?”

“You know you do, Monkey Man.”

“Fine. What happens after his mortal enemy eats and drinks until he could drink no more?”

“Why then there is a knock at the door. It is the yogi, whole once again. The yogi asked if his mortal enemy would not like a glass of chai?”

“A glass of chai?”

“Yes. A glass of chai.”

The bhagwan stared at Mukta. “Is that it?”

Mukta smiled. “This body is only a vessel, Monkey. You and your kind have used up your next lives in your unnatural effort to stay young.” Mukta closed his eyes. “I will go on.”

That was it. That was everything Mukta had to do and say. Some plan. It was more like a bedtime story. The bhagwan stood there gloating as the spark of life left Mukta's bony body, the birthmark fading from his hand. The bhagwan bent down to feel Mukta’s pulse, but I was pretty sure that his heart had stopped beating. Satisfied that Mukta was dead, the bhagwan smacked him across the face once with the tip of his tail as he left the cavern. As he did, Mukta's body faded away. What was left of him literally faded into nothing, leaving only his tattered lungi. Mukta was gone. I looked up at Amala and saw a tear on her cheek. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought Zak’s eyes looked watery as well. I didn’t cry because there was no time. Not right then, anyhow. Instead, I took hold of the pole, pushing us off into the underground river. Amala looked like she had seen a ghost.

“Mukta has moved on,” Amala said.

“I thought he died,” Zak said.

“He’s moved on to a new life.”

I didn’t know if Mukta had moved on to a new life or not, but I didn’t think you could get speared through the heart by a pointy cave rock and stay alive. It was common sense. Pointy cave rocks through the heart equals death. I used the bamboo pole to push us off the cave wall. As the water in the underground river moved more and more quickly, it became harder to steer the raft. The only light we had to guide us was the glow from Zak's whip and that wasn’t a lot. I heard a sudden whoosh as an arrow shot through the darkness, hitting the raft. Somehow, Rhino Butt and his goons were catching up with us again. Another arrow hit. Zak dove down, lying flat with the raft.

“We’re going to move on from this life too,” Zak said.

More arrows hit the raft. I dove down as well, dropping the pole off the side of the raft. It began to float away in the current.

“I swear, if I live, I will never ever chase another monkey again,” Zak whispered.
 

The pole floated farther away. I tried to reach it, but couldn’t. The rumbling of water grew louder.
 

“Reach for it, Zoe,” Amala said.

My camera swung from my neck as I struggled to get the pole. The camera dipped into the water and I briefly thought that it was a good thing that it was waterproof. I might actually get to take a picture with it. If we ever got out of here. I stretched farther to reach the pole, but it had floated too far away.
 

“Reach for the pole with your mind.”

“How many times do I have to tell you. I can’t just do that,” I said.

“I got it,” Zak said.

Zak raised Stryker and cracked it at the pole. Stryker’s silver tip wrapped around the bamboo and Zak pulled it back. He reached into the river water for the pole. Then he pulled out his hand like he had been bitten by something.
 

“Ow!”

“What?”

“The water is like, boiling!”

I touched the water with my fingertip. Zak was right. It wasn’t at a rolling boil yet, but I saw little bubbles beginning to rise. I also saw tiny drops falling into the river from above, almost like it was raining. Then I heard a whoosh and dove to the side as another volley of arrows hit the raft. One dug into the bamboo, missing my toe by a hair.

“Zak,” I said. “Shine Stryker up there.”

Zak shone his whip to the cave’s ceiling. It wasn’t raining. It was dripping little specks from the ends of the stalactites. The specks that were inside the stalactites were raining down on everything below them. Zak shone Stryker down the river. It was totally creepy. The specks were growing into tiny monkeys. They were everywhere.
 

“This can’t be good,” Zak said.

“No. I don’t think it can.”

The water was getting hotter. I could tell because there was steam rising off of it. It looked like it was definitely coming to a boil. I looked behind us. Another volley of arrows flew through the air. I ducked down. I still couldn’t see where the arrows were coming from, but I saw a reddish-brown head pop out of the river. It wasn’t small though. It was a full-sized monkey head. I took Zak's arm, shining Stryker backward. The monkey heads were everywhere. An entire troop of swimming moneys had hatched to life in the frothy water behind the raft. Panicked, I looked forward. The misty mouth of the cavern was now visible, moonlight shining in. The river water steamed around us. It was getting really hot. I used the pole to straighten out the raft. I could see sheer canyon walls just outside the mouth of the cavern, the roar of falling water growing louder.

Zak cracked Stryker. A flash of lightning filled the cave and I saw just how many monkeys there were. They weren’t just in the water. They were on the cave’s ceilings and walls too. They were everywhere and even more were being born from the drips falling into the river. Zak cracked his whip again. This time I saw a raft behind us. That’s where the arrows were coming from, but that wasn’t our biggest problem right then. The monkeys were. Somehow they had managed to swim in front of the raft. Zak cracked Stryker and was able to part a path in the sea of monkeys, but they kept coming. He couldn’t stop all of them and I was busy keeping the raft going straight. A monkey jumped onto the back of the raft. Zak whipped it off, but another wet monkey took its place, fangs bared. Zak kicked the monkey away, but he couldn’t keep it up. A third monkey jumped onto Zak's back.

It would have been nice if that was the end of it. I already felt like there was way too much going on, but in India, when it rains, it pours. Another volley of arrows came flying at us. I was able to duck, but Zak was too busy pulling the monkeys off himself. That’s when the arrow hit. It speared the monkey through the arm, but I knew it went deeper because Zak screamed. He was hit too. I held the pole with one hand and moved to yank the monkey off Zak with the other, but he didn’t need me. The monkey leapt off him of its own accord, pulling the arrow in its arms with it.
 

“Ow!” Zak screamed.

Zak was scratched up and bleeding where the arrow had struck him. I wanted to help him and examine the wound, but there was no time. The mouth of the river was upon us. I held the bamboo pole tightly in my hands. If the monkeys and arrows didn’t get us, whatever was on the other side of the gaping hole we were headed for would. I said a silent prayer and Zak bit his lip. I was scared and I could tell Zak was too. Who wouldn’t be? We had no idea what was beyond the cave.

“Do you trust me?” Amala asked.

“I really, really want to,” Zak said.

“Then hold the pole straight across and hang on!”

The water frothed and boiled below us. There was a moment where everything seemed to stop and then I felt my stomach drop as the raft left the cavern, teetering over the edge of the raging waterfall. It didn’t take long to see what was out there. Nothing. Nothing but air and rocks a thousand feet below. I knew there was no stopping the raft as I felt it begin to fall. So I took Amala’s advice. I held onto the bamboo pole for dear life.

Our raft fell through the air for a long time before landing. When it finally did, it splintered into matchsticks on the jagged rocks below. Staring down, I felt the blackness clouding my vision. I grit my teeth and fought off the dizziness as I hung there, alongside Zak and Amala, my hands gripping the bowed bamboo pole. The pole had lodged itself in the mouth of the cave, just below the waterline. We were behind the waterfall now, kept barely dry as it thundered above us. Looking up, I could see the bhagwan's raft floating over the river. At least I figured it was the bhagwan's. It might have been Rhino Butt’s, I didn’t know. All I knew for sure was that the raft was hovering there, above the river. The raft was made of bamboo like ours had been, but it floated on air, the river of monkeys being swept over the falls around it.