Victor Methos - The Extinct

Eric sat in one of the jeeps, William sitting next to him. Douglas, Jalani and Thomas were out scowering the neighboring areas with some of the men from the village. Sandra was sitting with the children playing games and calming their nerves. It was still hot and the breeze had died down. The sun was relentless and William had to pour sunscreen over himself and applied a few dabs to Eric’s nose and neck. “I’ve never seen anything move so fast,” Eric finally said. “What’d you see?” “I felt blood hit my face and then a streak of fur. Some yellow teeth.” “Nothing else?” “No.” “Well, I think we should be heading back. This is too dangerous for us.”

Thomas eventually appeared out of the brush and approached the jeep. The skin on his hands and knees were cut from the dense branches he’d made his way through and sweat glistened as it dripped down his forehead. “Anything?” William said. “Afraid not. It made off with the body as well, damn thing. Must be strong as an ox. I think it might’ve been a lion.” William said, “If you have anything personal of the tracker, I’d like to perform a service before we left.” “Left?” Thomas said in amazement. “Why would we do that?” “Are you kidding me? This thing is dangerous. This isn’t some safari anymore.”

“It never was. You were told it was a hunting trip, were you not?” Thomas’s face softened as he saw he was only escalating things. “Look, you’re a religious man, William. You value life as much or more than anyone here. These people are dying every night. Children, women, doesn’t matter to the beast. He drinks their blood before he eats them, alive. Without bribes the government authorities don’t give a damn. How can we just leave these people as they are without helping?” William took a deep breath. “Fine, I’ll stay. But Sandra and Eric have to go back.” “No,” Eric said. “What?” William said incredulously. “Eric, that thing could’ve killed you.” “That thing killed my father. I’m not leaving.” “I’m not leaving either,” Sandra said, walking up and standing next to Thomas. “Sands-” “No, Will. There’s children dying here. Thomas says he can kill it and I believe him.”

“You can stay here if you like,” Thomas said. “We’ll have to go farther out in the plains to hunt him. Some of us will have to stay here, with the women and children.”

William grew angry as he realized Thomas was mocking him. “No,” he said, “I’ll come.”

“Good. I think it only fair that Eric come as well. I’ll have Jalani and Douglas stay here with Sandra. They’ll be safe enough if they stay in good numbers in the village.” “Fine,” William said. “Why can’t we just stay here and wait for it?” Eric said. “We’ll need to be out in the open so we can draw him away from the village.” “Draw him away with what?” William said. “With us,” Thomas said with a grin.

The first jeep was packed with gasoline and food and water, enough for three people to last five days. William said good-bye to Sandra and they hugged. Douglas handed Thomas a couple bottles of whiskey and they took a drink together before Thomas climbed into the jeep.

“I have something for you,” Jalani said before Eric got into the backseat of the jeep. She pulled a chrome handgun from a holster around her waist and handed it to him. “Keep this with you. The rifles are only good at long range, not close.”

“Thanks,” Eric said as he took it with both hands. He tucked it into his waistband, enjoying the weight of it against him. Jalani stood watching him but not saying anything.

Namdi and some of the villagers had gathered around and they waved good-bye as the jeep started along its path. Sandra stood watching awhile, and then turned away into the crowd. Only Jalani watched the entire time until they were out of sight.

They followed a path around the brush and took up the trail of blood and broken stems of grass where the tracker’s body had been dragged. They drove a few minutes before Thomas stopped, and turned the engine off.

“What’s wrong?” William said.

“The trail’s stopped.” He looked around in all directions. “And I don’t see a… wait.” Sticking out of the brush was the bloodied stump of a human foot. Thomas jumped out of the jeep and went to look at it. He bent down and saw that it was severed from the ankle. Going into the brush a little farther he saw the remains of the tracker. He glanced around and then climbed back into the jeep, starting the engine and taking off slowly.

“What’d you see?” William asked.

“It wasn’t a lion, the bite marks were too deep in the bone. The only animal I know that can do that is a hyena. But hyena’s don’t roar.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. Eric, start pouring out the kill, would you?”

In the very back of the jeep was an icebox filled with the entrails and blood of the recently slaughtered pig. Eric’s job was to scoop out handfuls of the guts with a cup and throw them on the ground every five or ten minutes to attract the animal and have him follow the jeep. “So you think it’s only one hyena?” William asked. “Yes.” “How?”

“We would have seen or heard if there was a clan around. They hunt in packs. This is a lone hyena. Probably ousted from a clan and having to go rogue. We’re easy prey and a starving hyena wouldn’t hesitate to use us for sustenance. They usually only get up to around eighty kilos. This one would have to be much larger to drag a body like that.”

“You said he drinks blood,” Eric said.

“Yes, that is… puzzling. Only a few man-eaters in history have done that, but they’ve all been lions. They lick the skin off with their tongues and then drink but hyenas don’t have the sandpaper tongues of lions. I don’t know how one would do it.”

They drove under the scorching sun and stopped to rest and refuel in the shade of a large gray rock formation. A herd of small deer were grazing out in front of them and they could see the gray clouds of an oncoming storm in the distance. William sat in the jeep while Thomas sat on the rocks and ate chips and fruit. Eric couldn’t bring himself to get out of the jeep yet.

“How can you be sure it’ll follow us and not just go back to the village?” William asked.

“I can’t,” Thomas said with a mouthful. “But I’m betting it will. They can’t resist the scent of blood, it’ll be far more appealing than the scent of live prey.”

“How far out are we going to go?”

“Don’t know yet. Far as it takes I suppose. There’s a village four or so hours east. We should be able to reach there and back at least.”

The conversation was broken by the high-pitched chirp of laughter coming from the grass. William and Thomas glanced at each other and then Thomas darted for his rifle in the jeep. He grabbed it and jumped in front, searching the high grass for any movement.

William took the other rifle and stood up inside the jeep, looking in the opposite direction of Thomas. The deer had sprinted away. Eventually, the plains became silent.

“That sounded close,” William said.

“No more than thirty meters,” Thomas said, squinting as the sight of his rifle swept to and fro. He lowered it and climbed up onto the hood of the jeep for a better look. “Well Will, it seems your worries are unfounded; it’s followed us.”

They drove through the short yellow grass in a large valley. Wild dogs dotted the landscape, their barking occasionally breaking the monotony of the putting engine and the dirt and pebbles crunching underneath the tires. Eric was scooping out a cup of entrails every fifteen minutes now as they were running low.