Authors: David Alric
Meanwhile Pollard had finished his beer and plucked up the courage to have another look at Lucy – maybe the kid had just fainted, he tried to reassure himself. He opened her door and saw to his horror that she was lying just as he had left her. His heart sank as he decided he must have killed her. Tomorrow he would have to face Sam and he knew there was no way he was going to believe the kid had fallen over while trying to escape. He fingered his throat nervously: he knew, as did everyone in the company, Sam’s favourite method of disposing of those who had outlived their usefulness. He had a bad night.
Sam, in contrast, had a very good night. He woke up at
sunrise following a long and refreshing sleep after his nerve-racking flight worrying about the spider on the plane. It had been extraordinarily active, hiding for a while and then suddenly darting out towards him when he least expected it. He’d had the feeling that the girl had been amused by the whole thing – he’d turned round once or twice and caught her trying to hide a smile. It even crossed his mind that she might have brought it on to the plane but he dismissed the thought as being too fanciful. Well, the twins would soon wipe the smile off her face and the sooner the better. He was looking forward to handing her over to them as soon as they got back.
Across in the next cabin Lucy had woken with a bad headache but she felt much better than the night before. She immediately tried again to switch on her beacon but nothing happened. She realized that the blow on her head must have somehow affected her power, and the thought that it might never return made her intensely depressed. Then she heard Pollard at the door. He had got up early and crept to her hut for a final check on her while the others were still asleep. She huddled, trembling, into a corner as he came in. He was almost sick with relief to find her still alive.
‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘Just came to check you’re OK.’ His eyes narrowed for an instant, then he put on the nearest thing to a smile he could manage:
‘About your little accident last night – I saw you trip. I expect you were a bit tired after your flight.’ Despite her terror Lucy sensed that the man was uneasy and suddenly
realized why. She looked straight at him and lifted her chin.
‘I wasn’t tired and it wasn’t an accident,’ she said as firmly as she could. ‘You pushed me!’
‘Well,’ he replied nervously, ‘I might’ve bumped into you in the dark but I didn’t mean nothin’. No need to mention it to anyone, eh?’ As soon as he spoke she knew her instincts had been right: he was terrified of Sam. She thought quickly and felt a tiny spark of hope – she could use this awful man to gain a little time.
‘That depends,’ she said, more boldly, deliberately fingering the dried blood and large bruise she could feel on her head. ‘Maybe you should tell them I’m very ill with a temperature and it would be a waste of time trying to question me before I’m better. Oh – and I’m very thirsty and can I have some pills for my headache?’
Pollard and Lucy understood each other perfectly. In a little while he returned with several cans of Coke and some painkillers.
‘I’ve told Sam you’ve got a fever – probably malaria. The others have just radioed to say they’ve been delayed and won’t be back till tomorrow anyway.’
When he had gone Lucy heaved a sigh of relief. She had another day to try to think of something. By the afternoon her head felt a little better. Pollard brought her some food and more painkillers, and a bowl of water so she could clean the matted blood from her hair. She despised him for his apparent concern, which she knew was only to save his own neck. When he had gone she felt well enough to start
looking around for a means of escape but after a while her heart sank. The hut was built of stout planks and the roof was bolted on. The window was made of sturdy wire mesh nailed to the wood and she could barely shake it, never mind think of prising it free. The door was barred on the outside and there was no way she could escape without help. She finally fell asleep, worn out by fear and physical exhaustion.
The next day Pollard continued to bring her food and drink. Sam looked in once and Lucy pretended not to recognize him, as if delirious with fever. She twisted from side to side and moaned pitifully. Sam withdrew rapidly – he didn’t want to catch anything nasty. She spent the rest of the day wondering when the twins would come and towards evening she went and stood at the window mesh, dreading any signs of their return.
As she strained her eyes in the fading light, her face was pressed close to the wood next to the mesh. It had been treated with creosote – a strong preservative to protect the wood from being attacked by insects – and soon the irritant smell made her give an enormous sneeze. It shook her head violently and as it did so she felt something go click inside, and instantly she heard the myriad sounds of the forest animals. Suddenly there was complete silence and she was immediately aware of intense excitement among the animals captured in the camp and in the surrounding forest as they sensed the switching on of her power. A thrill ran through her when she heard a deep and awesome voice that could only be that of a jaguar.
‘Welcome, O Promised One. You have travelled many leagues across the mighty jungle to reach us and we have been concerned about your silence. We await your instructions.’
Lucy could have wept with relief at having recovered her ability to talk to the animals but she knew that there was no time to lose. In the plane she had thought long and hard about her strategy when reaching the camp and now, at last, she was able to put her plans into action. She had been impressed by the monkeys she had spoken to in Macapá and had decided, if she could, to speak to the monkeys at Cayman Creek. She would need their help to release the captive jaguars, to escape herself and to find out what had happened to her father. If he were still alive they could then set about bringing Chopper and his gang to justice and plan to return home. She started by replying to the jaguar who had called her.
‘Thank you, O Lord of the Jungle. I have been unwell and unable to speak until now. To free you I must seek help from the arborikin and others and will speak to you again soon. Are you all able to survive in the forest?’
She knew that because of the terrible things Song might have done to the creatures, some might be in need of veterinary care before they could survive unaided.
‘All of us can walk,’
the jaguar replied,
‘but some are grievously hurt and cannot hunt.’
‘When you escape, the injured must hide in the forest and, though I know the junglefang normally lives alone, the fit must bring food to those who cannot hunt. I have to go away, but when I return the evil ones will soon be gone and I will then bring help
to your injured kin.’
‘It shall be done as you say, O Great One.’
Lucy then called the monkeys.
‘Hallo, O Agile Ones of the trees!’
Several monkey voices replied immediately and Lucy sensed the feverish desire to assist that her arrival had created.
‘Who is the wisest among you?’
she asked.
‘I am she,’
replied one of the monkeys.
‘Welcome to you, O Promised One. What are your wishes?’
‘I have many requests,’
said Lucy.
‘First I must find my father. He left here with one other Tailless One in a thunderquill two moons ago. I fear the thunderquill may have become injured and fallen into the forest. How can I find it?’
‘We need the assistance of the fledgiquills in this matter. The best of their kin for your quest would be –’
here Lucy detected a slight tremor in the monkey’s voice
‘– the great hunter of the forest known as the arboribane for he flies far and wide above the trees.’
‘I will speak to him,’
said Lucy, immediately sensing that this was not a task the monkeys would relish. The arboribane was clearly a monkeybane; a hawk or eagle that preyed on them.
‘… but there are other favours that I would beg of you and your kin. When the sun sleeps, and after all the evil ones have returned and are asleep, you must free the junglefangs from their enclosures and release me from this prison. First, though, you must creep into the huts of the evil ones and remove all their thunder-sticks – of these some will be long and some will be short. Each has a rod with a hole in it; if you hold it only by this rod it will remain silent and you will come to no harm.’
‘Then,’
she continued,
‘a large arachnopod should stand inside the door of he who came with me yesterday and the Malevolent Ones should guard the doors of the others. Without their thunder-sticks the evil ones will fear to pass these creatures and will not disturb us as we leave. We will need to travel on the water in the house that floats.’
‘All shall be done as you say, O She Who Speaks. Now you must rest. Have no fear from this moment; none shall harm you while we watch.’
Lucy then called the monkeybane.
‘O great fledgiquill that is known as the arboribane, I seek your help.’
Within seconds a new voice replied. It sounded like a rusty saw.
‘Speak your will, O Promised One.’
Lucy explained about her father, the pilot and the plane.
‘I shall go and seek the Paterpromise,’
said the harpy eagle,
‘but I may need the help of my cousins, the great soariquills from the far mountains of the south and west. For they can fly where I cannot, even unto the Brilliant One, and their eyes see that which no others can. Fare thee well.’
Lucy lay on her bed. Just two months ago in this situation she would have been absolutely terrified of lizards, spiders, ants and other creatures, and would have inspected every inch of her hut and bed. Now she felt that the entire animal kingdom was on her side and, for the first time, was aware of the enormity of the power she wielded. She had heard that all power corrupts and also sensed how her own power could be used to wicked ends if she so chose. She resolved at that moment never, ever, to use this
strange and precious gift except in the service of mankind and the rest of the animal kingdom and the planet.
She thought about her safety instructions to the monkeys. She had never handled a real rifle or pistol but she was fairly certain that if the creatures touched only the barrel of any weapon they would not discharge it. As always at such moments she imagined what her sister would have to say, and she could hear in her imagination Clare pointing out that it wouldn’t be too good for the image of the Promised One if, as a result of her advice, the chief monkey shot herself in the foot.
Long after nightfall she heard the twins return with their party and the roaring of the jaguar they brought with them.
‘We should make a packet from the stuff off this one,’ she heard one of the men say, and wondered what was special about the prize they had captured.
‘Be silent, junglefang,’
she called to the jaguar,
‘for after this sunsleep you will be free.’
The great cat immediately fell silent and after it had been caged the men went to eat their supper. At one point Lucy heard one of them coming to look through her window but she pretended to be asleep and after a while he went away. She heard coarse laughter from around the campfire and guessed that they were discussing her interrogation the next day. How she would have felt but for the protection of the animals she did not dare even to contemplate. Soon, thinking of her family, she fell asleep, tired out by her long journey, the relief of recovering her power and the excitement of her exchanges with the animals.
‘A
wake, O Promised One!’
Lucy woke with a start. She had been in the middle of a complicated dream in which she had been flying over the jungle on the back of an eagle, looking for her father’s crashed plane. She remembered instantly where she was and looked out of the mesh window. Dawn was just breaking but the moon was still clearly visible in the early morning sky. As night gave way to day the sounds of the jungle changed as the creatures of the day awoke to resume their incessant business of life and death. The voice that spoke to her was new but it sounded like a large creature.
‘The arborikin have already removed all the thunder-sticks; the evil ones remain asleep and all is well,’
said the voice.
‘Now stand back, O Promised One, away from the door. Do you hear me?’
‘Yes,’
said Lucy.
‘I am ready.’
The next moment giant claws splintered their way between two of the planks from which the door was made. The door was then wrenched off its hinges in a single movement.
Lucy gaped at the creature facing her. She had seen pictures of giant anteaters and knew that they could tear
chunks out of termite mounds as hard as concrete, but to see this power in action was simply devastating.
‘Thank you, O Great Claws,’
was all she could think to say.
‘We must now make haste,’
said the anteater.
‘Follow me and I will lead you to the arborikin.’
Lucy grabbed Maria’s bag and an empty water bottle and followed the amazing creature. Soon they passed some empty compounds with large holes excavated under the fences.
‘The junglefangs have all escaped,’
said the anteater, by way of explanation. Lucy wondered what creature could have dug such holes so quickly but, before she could ask, they reached the edge of the river where a group of monkeys waited, a pile of guns on the ground beside them.
‘Welcome, Promised One,’
said the eldest female.
‘The crawlibane has done well to free you and bring you here. He will now return to the forest.’
Lucy bade her saviour farewell and he disappeared into the trees.
‘What is your desire now?’
the monkey continued, reaching for Lucy’s bag and giving it to a younger monkey to carry.
‘All that you previously commanded is done.’
‘Thank you all for your help,’
said Lucy.
‘You are obedient and brave. Now we must obtain many of these from the hut where none sleep, for I fear that the water in the river may harm me.’
She held up the empty water bottle and immediately a detachment of monkeys left to raid the store hut. The large female led Lucy to a boat moored at the bank.
‘Here is the house that floats,’
she said.
‘We shall use this for the first part of our journey. It will take us quickly through the jungle along the water-that-always-flows and far from this place. I fear the harm the evil ones may do to you, even without their sticks of fire and despite the Malevolent Ones and the arachnopod who wait in guard as you instructed.’
As she spoke there was a rustling sound in the forest clearing next to the river bank and Lucy turned in alarm. She peered apprehensively, her eyes straining to see what was there against the inky blackness of the jungle background. She gradually became aware of dozens of jostling shapes, and now and then caught the dull glint of a tusk in the pale dawn light. It was a seemingly endless herd of wild pigs and Lucy remembered a final request she had made to the monkey queen.
‘The snortikin are here,’
said the monkey,
‘and will do as you have commanded.’
She looked a little mystified as she spoke and they both watched as the peccaries moved on towards the sleeping camp. Lucy couldn’t suppress a grin at the thought of telling Clare and Sarah of the final farewell she
had planned for the Sawyer brothers and their gang of ruffians. The monkey pulled her back to the present.
‘We must make haste, for soon the Brilliant One will awake from his slumber.’
Lucy gazed into the sky where the clouds were now glowing pink on the horizon. She climbed into the boat.
‘The Promised One should start the tail that roars.’
The monkey was sitting on the side of the boat and clearly expecting Lucy to start the outboard motor which was flipped up out of the water, its propeller reflecting the rosy light from the east. Lucy went over to it. It was locked upright in some way that she couldn’t discern and looked awfully heavy – the prospects of her unlocking the motor and getting it started were definitely zero.
Just then the other monkeys returned, struggling to pull several plastic-wrapped cases of bottled water to the water’s edge. These they managed to lift into the boat with Lucy’s help and store alongside some cans of what she later realized was fuel for the outboard motor. She looked at the cache of water and started to calculate how long it might last. The lead monkey saw her and, as though reading her mind, said:
‘Fear not, Promised One. There will be sufficient here for our journey on the house that floats. We know of plants in the trees of the forest and special leaves that catch the water from the skies. You will never go thirsty while you are in our care.’
Lucy remembered that in Grandpa’s book she had read of parasitic plants, bromeliads, that could hold up to eight litres of fresh water in their vase-like reservoirs. She also
remembered that some of these ponds in the air were home to frogs and other creatures and resolved to try to supervise any water collections that might be made in this way. Her mind then turned back to the more immediate problem of getting the boat moving.
‘I have no knowledge of the tail that roars,’
she said.
‘Is there another way we can move the house that floats?’
She looked about for some oars but with a sinking heart knew already that, even if she found some, she could never move the heavy boat unaided.
‘Call the Dreadful Ones,’
said the monkey.
Lucy immediately understood and called. Within seconds the surface of the water rippled and the backs of two giant black caymans broke the surface. Lucy had seen crocodiles and alligators at the zoo but nothing remotely the size of the six-metre-long reptiles now cruising slowly around the boat. She untied the mooring lines which were attached to the protruding roots of a riverside tree and cast them into the dark waters below the bow of the craft. The waters swirled and the ropes disappeared. The boat suddenly jerked forward as though pulled by giant hands and surged out into the river.
‘Which way, O Promise?’
asked the monkey. Lucy, amused and touched by the familiar abbreviation of her title, gave thought to the question. She knew her father had gone on an expedition into the remote interior, so they had to go upstream.
‘We must travel up the river in the direction from which the waters run. I’m sorry, for this means it is harder for the reptocools
to pull us.’
She couldn’t bring herself to refer to any creatures as the ‘Dreadful Ones’ and instinctively knew the other name by which the great saurians were known.
‘You need have no concern for them,’
replied the monkey,
‘for they are truly mighty in the water and their children’s children will speak of the honour of this day.’
The boat moved swiftly and silently up the river and soon the camp was lost to sight. Lucy had escaped!
Sam came to with a start. He thought he’d heard some snuffling and grunting but now he was fully awake he wasn’t sure if it had just been a dream. He lay in his hammock for a moment thinking about the day ahead. The twins were back and he hoped the kid would be in a fit state for them to get to work on her. Chopper would by now be expecting some news and he was not a patient man. He thought he heard another grunt – it was definitely from outside – and then began to be aware of a revolting smell, which he hadn’t noticed the night before. As he started to get up to investigate he saw what looked like a black mophead or brush on the floor just inside the door. He couldn’t remember having stepped over it the day before and reached for his spectacles to have a better look. As he moved, the mop shifted position and he froze with absolute terror as he found himself looking at the largest spider he had ever imagined could exist, even in his worst nightmare. The creature was as large as a plate and its
legs were covered in stiff black bristles; it had raised itself into a more upright position since seeing Sam move and he was convinced that, in among a horrifying tangle of gently waving feelers and jaws, he could just discern two red eyes fixing him with a primitive and malignant stare. He had never been so frightened in his entire life but, even as a wave of nausea and revulsion swept over him, he had the presence of mind to realize that he must not be sick – any violent movement would surely bring this frightful thing scurrying across the floor to pounce on him. It was so large he was sure that its feet would make a pattering sound as it ran. Sweating with fear he moved his hand very, very slowly to the upturned dynamite case that served as a bedside table. Without taking his eyes off the spider, which, in its alert position, now looked like a small black woolly dog, he felt about on the box for the gun which he always kept by his side. He felt all over the top of the box and felt nothing. Moving his head as little as possible he rolled his
eyes until he could just see the box and the floor around it, but his gun had gone. He was stuck until somebody came to help him.
Unfortunately, nobody was going to help him in the near future. The twins and the other camp staff were already sitting in their respective hammocks hypnotized by the sight of vividly coloured and venomous-looking snakes lying coiled up just inside their hut doors. They too had sought in vain for their revolvers and were now trapped and helpless.
Several hours passed. The radio had beeped several times in the office but nobody could answer it. In Rio, Chopper was becoming increasingly frustrated.
‘Where the hell are they all?’ he shouted at Nandita. ‘They know that there should always be at least one person in the camp.’
Back at the camp Sid realized that he could no longer resist a call of nature that he had been fighting since he first woke up. The spicy food he had eaten the previous evening had been churning around in his stomach all night and a frightful smell wafting in through the wire mesh window was not helping in the battle to control his bowels. Eventually, he could wait no longer. Never taking his eyes off the snakes Sid crept along the wall to the mesh window. The snakes watched him intently in a way that made his flesh crawl, but apart from flicking their forked tongues they remained motionless as he slipped the catch and slowly opened the window. He scrambled up on to the ledge and as he now saw some serpentine movement out
of the corner of his eye he threw caution to the wind and leapt out of the window. He had a soft landing. It was, in fact, a very soft landing, for the large pile of pig dung into which he jumped was only a few hours old and was still steaming gently in the late morning sun.
The smell floating in through the window had been bad, but at close quarters it was simply appalling. Sid choked and retched and gave up any pretence of retaining control of his digestive system. Eventually he stumbled to the path and made his way to the river, trying to pick a path through the peccary droppings. It was a difficult task for, though the pigs had been most generous with their donations around the huts, there was barely a square yard of the camp that was clear of any mess. He was heading for the only washing and bathing point at the camp. At the river a pool had been dug out of the bank, which was fenced off with steel mesh from the main stream so the men could bathe in safety. Sid was just about to plunge in when he noticed that the mesh fence had been torn away and he could see a shoal of piranha fish cruising nonchalantly around the pool. He knew that their
razor-sharp
teeth could reduce a man to a skeleton in a few moments and he was going to have to wash as best he could with bottled water from the store. Glancing along the bank he saw that one of the two company boats had gone and the other was half submerged, its stern and one side smashed to pieces. He ran back to tell Sam the bad news; if he had waited a moment longer he would have seen a giant cayman surface and thrash another large
section of boat away with a swipe of its powerful tail.
Reaching Sam’s hut he opened the door and stepped back hurriedly as he saw the spider. Seeing Sid, it moved away from the door and further into the room towards the bed. It moved with astonishing speed and this was the final straw for Sam, who catapulted from his hammock and hurled himself straight through the mesh window; there was a ripping sound as his shorts and part of his left buttock remained behind on the torn wire, followed by a loud slurping noise as he landed face down in a small lake of pig manure underneath the window.
Some time later the men, six in all, were gathered in the radio hut. Pollard, the site manager and Barker, the other lumberjack, had eventually managed to chase the snakes and the spider into the forest using brooms and sticks and now, having ineffectually washed with what was left of the bottled water, the unhappy band were radioing Chopper with the bad news. Sam had tentatively suggested that they drew lots to see who should have the pleasure of speaking to Chopper, but the others would have none of it. They had unanimously agreed that, as Chopper’s deputy, the honour belonged to Sam. He held a moistened handkerchief to his face as he spoke – the stench of pig excrement in the midday sun was beyond description – and, stuttering with apprehension, gave Chopper a brief and semi-coherent account of recent events at the camp.
‘What do you mean she’s
escaped
?’ said Chopper. He was pacing up and down the patio outside his villa, a portable phone clamped to his ear. ‘How the hell can an eleven-year-old
girl, supposedly under constant supervision, tear a door off its hinges, dig holes big enough to let out every jaguar in the camp, destroy your bathing facilities, nick most of your water supplies and escape in a boat, all in the middle of the night and without you dumb bozos hearing a thing?’