The Greystoke Legacy (24 page)

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Authors: Andy Briggs

BOOK: The Greystoke Legacy
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Bapoto took his position in the watchtower. He removed the safety catch from the high-caliber gun and swiveled it on its tripod mount a few times to ease the bearings. Then he peered into the darkness for any signs of the enemy, his finger hovering over the trigger.

The only sound that could be heard came from the chain of men darting between the river and the burning buildings.

Tafari took cover behind several empty fuel drums and scanned the darkness. Was it over?

Then he became aware of an unusual movement: Unless his eyes were deceiving him, the dirt on top of the barrels was vibrating. He looked closely. It was no illusion. He gently touched the barrel and felt the tiny vibrations. Then he placed an ear to the drum—the metallic cylinder amplified a sound.

The sound of approaching thunder.

Every soldier began noticing the ground tremble. From his lofty perch, Bapoto felt the tower sway and creak alarmingly. The rumble gained intensity and appeared to be coming from every direction.

Tafari stood, desperate to pinpoint the source of the noise. It was all around them.

With a violent crack the trees suddenly splintered apart. Several slender trunks toppled over, smashing through the center of the huts on the camp's periphery. They were followed by a herd of rampaging elephants emerging from the darkness.

Soldiers swiveled their weapons—but the first line of men were trampled underfoot as the elephants thundered into the encampment.

At their head was Tantor, slamming his bulk into buildings. Wooden frames creaked and toppled over, trapping men underneath. Bullets cracked and Tantor felt cold stings of pain, but that was not enough to stop him.

Before most of the soldiers could react to the assault, an unnerving roar came from behind.

Dozens of lions emerged from the trees at full speed. Three men were mauled before they could shoot. Tafari opened fire, gunning one of the lionesses down before he stopped, frozen in terror—

Numa stalked into the camp, Tarzan riding on his back. The terrifying vision made several rebels throw down their weapons and run for the trees—where Terkoz the gorilla and his band were waiting for them.

Numa's huge paws slashed the men foolish enough not to flee, while Tarzan swung his lasso—deftly looping it around a rifle and plucking it from a rebel's hand—leaving him open to Sabor's lethal jaws.

From the watchtower, Bapoto opened fire. The large-caliber machine gun shook the tower as it spat lead. Bullet casings whizzed past his ear and clattered to the floor. He had Tarzan in his sights.

Numa leapt over the bonnet of a jeep—landing on Oudry, who was hiding behind it. Tarzan gripped the beast's mane with one hand to keep his balance. He didn't flinch as Numa slashed mercilessly at Oudry. Bullets suddenly raked across the jeep, shattering the windshield. Tarzan flattened himself against Numa's flank and yelled a word of encouragement. The lion careered across the camp, zigzagging to avoid Bapoto's gunfire. Tarzan clung on to his mount, his eyes fixed on his quarry.

Bapoto couldn't swivel the gun fast enough to track the lion as it evaded his fire. The beast was heading straight for the tower, but he felt safe in the knowledge the lion wouldn't be able to reach him.

Numa shot past the tower and Bapoto momentarily lost sight of him. When he finally found his target again he was alarmed to see the White Ape was no longer on his back. With a sudden sense of dread, Bapoto leaned over the platform's handrail and saw Tarzan heading toward him with the agility of a monkey. The wild man bounded between the support posts and flipped on to the platform. Bapoto tried to swing the gun around but there wasn't enough room. Tarzan swiped the gun barrel with such ferocity that Bapoto lost his grip and the weapon pivoted around and struck him across the face.

Bapoto sprawled across the platform, dangerously close to falling over the side. Tarzan sprang for him as Bapoto drew his wicked kukri and plunged it toward Tarzan's heart. Tarzan gripped the guerrilla's wrist and they wrestled, Tarzan slowly inching the blade away from his chest. Bapoto was bigger than Tarzan, but because he was lying flat on his back, he couldn't use his weight.

With a desperate lunge, he twisted around and managed to throw Tarzan off. He jumped to his feet, knife at the ready—but he wasn't expecting Tarzan to use his powerful arms as a springboard to kick him in the ribs like a wild horse. The thug heard his ribs crack as he was sent teetering over the edge of the tower. His fingers scraped the handrail and he reached out for Tarzan for help. Tarzan offered none and Bapoto plummeted to his death.

•••

From across the camp, Tafari saw his lieutenant fall—but his attention was dragged back to the battle where his men were falling under the lions' claws or being trampled by the elephants systematically bulldozing the remaining buildings. He watched with anger as his own home collapsed when three elephants shoved it over, and as they then trampled the macabre trophies of death contained within.

To add to the chaos, Tafari now realized, gorillas were hiding in the trees, picking off fleeing rebels. How Tarzan had united the animals was a mystery, but Tafari was under no illusion he was losing the battle.

With a bellow that cut through the fight, Tarzan called out from the watchtower. His gaze was firmly on Tafari—but the general had the advantage. He pulled the rocket launcher from his shoulder and extended the tube. The missile was already loaded—all Tafari had to do was point and fire. He lined Tarzan up in the sights and pulled the trigger. He couldn't miss.

The missile shot across the clearing faster than Tarzan could move. Tafari had expected a perfect shot—but to his dismay the projectile arced away from his target as the heat-seeking sensors locked on to fires around the camp.

The missile curved toward the tower's base and prematurely exploded as it struck the supporting legs. The tower groaned and toppled forward with Tarzan riding it the whole way down.

The tower smashed across the dining pavilion and Tarzan was thrown off as the platform splintered into a blazing building, scattering lions and elephants from its path. The impact would have killed a man.

But not Tarzan.

For him, riding the toppling tower was no different from leaping through the trees. He hopped from the platform as it tore through the inferno and rolled through the flames so fast that he wasn't burned.

Tafari watched dumbfounded as Tarzan vaulted from the inferno and landed squarely in front of him. His eyes reflected the flames; he was covered in blood and grime—this was enough to convince Tafari that he was dealing with a malevolent inhuman creature.

Tarzan advanced upon him, clearly intending to tear him apart with his bare hands. Tafari desperately threw the empty rocket launcher at Tarzan, which he easily batted aside. Tafari drew his pistol and knew he only had one chance because his target was moving too fast.

Tarzan leapt as the gun report boomed and a bullet tore into his arm.

•••

Keeping to the trees, Jane led the wary prisoners from confinement. They kept behind the cover of the trees and were guided by two blackback gorillas from Kerchak's clan, who they eyed with respect and caution.

Clark and Archie carried Robbie between them and glanced at the battle. For the first time they saw Tarzan as he burst from the flames and was shot in the arm.

“Oh my God!” spluttered Clark as he saw their savior crumple to his knees.

Mister David and Esmée brought up the rear and watched with distress as Tafari took aim for the final execution. They were so transfixed they couldn't stop Jane from bolting between them, out into the camp.

“NO!”

•••

Jane's voice made Tafari hesitate for a fraction of a second as he glanced up to see his prisoners were escaping. But he didn't need to look to squeeze the trigger.

The shadows shifted and a dark feline shape sped toward Tafari—it was Sheeta. The panther's jaws were a blur as they sliced into Tafari's arm, forcing him to drop the gun before he could pull the trigger. He shrieked, dropping to his knees as he gripped his lacerated arm. The panther bounded away, across the clearing.

Tarzan sprang for Tafari, pinning him to the floor. The general used his one good hand to prevent Tarzan from strangling him. Tarzan's teeth gnashed close to Tafari's face, inches from taking a bite. Tafari concentrated all his strength on holding him back, but blood loss was making him weak.

Unable to bite him, Tarzan shifted his weight and went for Tafari's chest. Tafari levered his knee into Tarzan's stomach and pushed him off.

Tarzan rolled across the floor—giving Tafari a chance to snatch his fallen gun. He swung it at Tarzan—victory was certain . . .

Then he noticed Tarzan had three metal rings in his mouth.

Tarzan had seen man's violence and petty wars from across the jungle. He had witnessed the creative methods of killing they employed against each other. He had seen the destructive force of a grenade.

Tafari's hand patted the three grenades he had tied to his bandolier. The pins were missing!

Tarzan leapt for cover as Tafari exploded. Jane averted her gaze from the rebel's gory end. She ran across to where Tarzan had fallen.

“Tarzan?” Her heart was in her mouth when she saw he was sprawled in the mud. “No!” she sobbed, kneeling at his side. He surely couldn't be dead?

Then she noticed his chest heave, and Tarzan rolled over, shaking from his head the cloudy feeling caused by the explosion. He stood, hand clamped across the bullet in his arm, and looked at Jane. There was no victorious smile, just a calm expression as he assured himself that Jane was unhurt.

Around the camp, the last of the rebels perished with their weapons in hand. The others had fled into the trees only then to face the more deadly challenges of survival.

Tarzan raised his head to the sky and bellowed a victory cry that echoed across the jungle for everyone, and everything, to hear.

EPILOGUE

T
arzan had refused medical aid from Archie and dealt with the bullet wound himself. His army of beasts had melted into the jungle, save Tantor and his herd, who carried the weary loggers back to their own camp. At Tarzan's insistence, they had left the dead—human and animal—where they had fallen.

Tarzan and Jane rode Tantor. Tarzan never once acknowledged the constant stream of gratitude the loggers offered for saving their lives.

Fighting off fatigue, Jane spoke about the new life that awaited Tarzan.

“You are the heir to the Greystoke legacy. You don't belong out here. You have a home back in Britain.” The words had no impact on Tarzan. Jane persisted. “There are people who want to know you are alive. Your parents were rich, very rich. Do you understand money?”

Tarzan shook his head. Jane sighed. How could she explain the importance of money to somebody who'd never heard of it? “You give money, I give you food.”

Tarzan frowned. “Tarzan take food when hungry.”

“No . . . look. You can buy a really nice home with lots of money.”

“Tarzan has home.”

Jane gave up. Wealth and status were meaningless to him. But surely it was important? Why else would people crave it? She wondered just who was waiting to hear news that Lord Greystoke's heir was alive and well. She would try to find out.

Back at the remains of Karibu Mji, Clark kicked the charred debris. Nothing had been spared save the bulldozer. The morning light added little cheer to the scene—their dreams were shattered, but at least they were alive.

“Now what do we do?” asked Jane as she looked around the ruins.

Archie shrugged. “I don't know.”

Clark spoke up. He was already thinking ahead. “We carry on.”

Jane was horrified, especially after everything they had just been through. “You can't do that! This is Tarzan's land!”

“Then we cut him in on the deal.”

She pleaded with Archie, but her father could offer nothing other than a shrug.

Jane spun round to face Robbie, who was using a branch as a crutch. He looked wan, but insisted on walking despite Archie's warnings­ that he needed to get to a hospital quickly.

“Robbie, tell them!” Jane insisted.

“Tell them what? This was our plan, Jane, our dream. We can't just throw it away. Where else are we going to go?”

“Rob . . . you don't have to run. Not any more.” He looked away, the shame of his actions shadowing his face. “You think you killed your stepfather, but he's still alive.”

Robbie looked at her in astonishment. “How do you know that?”

Archie and Clark exchanged alarmed looks—Robbie's past was news to them.

Jane smiled gently. “You make a wonderful hero, and I'm glad to say, a terrible murderer. It's all over the Internet. You knocked him out and cracked his skull, but he's alive.”

Robbie reeled from the implications. “The police still want you, but . . . it's not as bad as you think.”

He wasn't a murderer! Even with every fiber of his being screaming with pain, Robbie managed a smile. It was a weight off his shoulders. However, it also meant the man responsible for his sister's death was still alive.

Jane turned back to Archie and Clark. “I researched some stuff on the Internet . . .”

Clark snorted. “Last time your dad did that, it nearly got us killed.”

Jane ignored him. “Tarzan's really the son of Lord Greystoke. He has a whole legacy waiting for him! He was set to inherit a fortune. You have to listen to what he has to say.”

She didn't see the greedy glance Clark gave to Archie.

Jane turned to find Tarzan. Even with his limited communication skills, he should be able to persuade them to see sense.

But Tarzan had vanished. Jane stared into the trees.

“He didn't even say goodbye,” she whispered.

Robbie leaned on her shoulder. “We owe him, Jane. We really do. But I think the fact that he's not here tells you he doesn't care what we do. He doesn't understand.” Robbie laughed. “The guy thinks his mother was an ape!”

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