John Davis - Fear No Evil

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‘They’ll shoot you Davey – like an animal yourself …’To half the world they were folk heroes. To the other half they were lunatic vandals.Davey Jordon – the quiet man burning with a silent rage. Charlie Buffalohorn – the full-blooded Cherokee steeped in the ancient faiths of his people.In the earliest hours of the New York morning they were driving big trucks west for the Smokey Mountains. By dawn the alarm was up and it seemed like half the goddamned nation was coming to gun them down.

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That was his effect. Despite her degrees, despite all her expertise, she felt under his authority; she was a woman in the wilderness surrounded by dangerous animals and not only was he a man—a physically stronger human being—she was also out of her league scientifically. In short, he was the authority, the only person who could control what was going on. She did not know what she despised most in herself: her fear of Mama or her fear of annoying David Jordan. She was transfixed by the plight of poor Sultan, marooned up his tree.

Then suddenly he came sliding down—not voluntarily, but induced by gravity. Sultan’s aching claws could cling no longer; the bark of his unhappily chosen tree began to give way; there was a loud rending of wood above the new moan of anguish from his throat, and Sultan slowly descended, tearing great strips out of the tree trunk. Mama eased herself up to a menacing crouch, and a moan of bright outrage came from her.

Elizabeth started to yell at Mama, then Sultan’s screeching claws could stand the strain no longer, and he let go with a yowl of terror, twisting in midair in a desperate bid to face his awful adversary. Mama scattered backward under the spreadeagled jaws and claws, shocked, and Sultan flattened her. Again involuntarily, but effectively nonetheless. There was an outburst of roars and flying paws as Sultan disengaged himself; then he turned and fled.

Davey had been right: Sultan had not squandered his time while up his tree; he had looked around for a better one, and he staked it out. Now he bounded up it. He scrambled onto a stout, solitary branch halfway up and turned around and snarled.

Nobody could get him now. From his branch he dominated the tree.

fifteen

The afternoon was warm and golden green. Butterflies were fluttering, birds chirping. Sally emerged from the pool and moved cautiously down the glen to graze, her big square mouth chomping like a lawnmower. The lions were all luxuriating in the sun, on their backs, paws in the air, and every now and again Kitty tried to box the butterflies.

The gorillas and chimpanzees had retreated into the trees when Elizabeth came to sit beside the waterfall. Now, first the chimpanzee called Daisy came back, cautiously bobbing behind bushes and peeping at her. Then one by one the others began to appear, brown eyes anxiously peering and ducking in inexpert counterintelligence. But then they began to relax.

Daisy was plucking at the greenery, holding it up in her thumb and forefinger and examining it quizzically, then popping it into her mouth and munching experimentally while she kept an eye on Elizabeth. One by one, the others followed. Only the zoo gorillas remained tense, standing on the fringes of the trees, staring at her suspiciously: they remembered her. She wanted to give them her most winning smile and call out, ‘Come on, King, don’t be frightened.’ But she just wagged her head to show nonaggression and ostentatiously averted her eyes.

Then Daisy began to play the fool. Suddenly she threw her handful of leaves into the air with gay abandon and gave a short bark, slapping her hand on the ground with all fangs barea; then she threw herself into a cartwheel. Whirling in the sunlight, head over heels, crashing through the undergrowth; around and around Daisy went, hands and feet flying. Suddenly the other chimpanzees were copying her, throwing themselves into their circus cartwheels out of the infectious joy of the forest. For the moment Elizabeth forgot her fears of the hunters, and she wanted to clap her hands. The gorillas stared, astonished. Then Daisy spun into a somersault, landed smartly on her feet and galloped straight at King Kong; she leapfrogged over him, slapping her hands on his shoulders, flying over him before he could dodge indignantly. Then Florrie was racing at him.

King Kong jumped aside, and Florrie swerved after him, waving her arms; Daisy cavorted twenty yards up the glen, pretending to run in terror of big King, looking back over her shoulder. King Kong stood uncertainly, flustered and staring. Daisy’s challenge had been cheeky, and he did the only thing he knew to impress her; he rose up onto his hind legs with some misgivings and beat his hairy chest. But Daisy just cavorted more provocatively and came scampering straight back. King Kong blinked in mid-thump, gave a disconcerted grunt, and charged.

Daisy fled gleefully across the glen, and King Kong pounded after her, disconcerted because he was not gaining on her. Now Florrie was joyfully beside her, and then Candy. Nervous little Champ scrambled up from Davey’s side and went galloping off to join them. Daisy, Florrie, Candy, and Champ raced down the glen, then into the trees beyond, with King Kong pounding breathlessly after them, scattering the lions in all directions.

Kitty had flung herself flat as the hairy humanoids thundered past her, but now she sprang over the undergrowth after them. King Kong went thundering through the trees in hot pursuit of the chimpanzees, with Kitty bounding after him.

Then something began to happen in King Kong’s big, serious, sooty breast. Suddenly it felt like fun to be crashing through the trees; it felt wonderful for his great body to be running and chasing. The forest felt like his territory.

Just then Kitty bounded at him with a shattering roar right in his earhole. King Kong flung his shaggy arms over his head and spun around, shocked at the sight of the huge lioness flying at him. He reeled backward wildly and collected his wits, and he reared up onto his hindlegs.

Kitty skidded to a stop and froze, backside up, head down, ears back uncertainly, and suddenly this had become serious. Even the chimpanzees stopped their cavorting, eyes wide.

King Kong and Kitty faced each other in the sudden silence, both hearts thumping. King Kong wanted to have nothing to do with lions, and Kitty didn’t want to have anything to do with bad-tempered gorillas twice her size. For a long, shocked moment King Kong and Kitty stared each other down, one poised at full height, the other crouched low, mutually alarmed at what they’d got themselves into.

Then Kitty’s nerve broke.

Slowly, her back arched, and she hissed; then she began to creep backward, never taking her eyes off King Kong’s. King Kong glared at her all the way with intense relief. Then she turned and took to her heels. She burst into the open glen, and stopped. She looked back at him, tail swishing, then she sat down and proceeded to wash her face.

King Kong glared at her balefully, turned and headed purposefully back into the forest, satisfaction in his heart.

Then they heard the helicopter.

Davey and Big Charlie tensed; it was a faint, faraway throbbing. Elizabeth’s heart was thumping.

Davey and Charlie were looking at each other, twelve paces apart, listening intently, assessing. The sound was getting louder, but it was muffled by the forest.

‘There.’ Big Charlie jerked his head down the mountain.

Davey nodded. ‘Going that way.’ He pointed north, toward Erwin.

They listened, hardly breathing. For a long minute the sound seemed to stay at the same level, and her heart hammered as it occurred to her that it was hovering to lower men; then the noise began to diminish. She closed her eyes and exhaled. Davey and Big Charlie relaxed visibly.

Davey checked the position of the sun, nodded, and Charlie disappeared into the forest, heading up-mountain.

‘Where’s he going?’

‘Just to have a look.’

She clenched her fist and massaged her brow.

‘O God … How much longer are you staying here?’

‘Until the sun starts going down. They won’t find us with helicopters.’

‘Mr Jordan,’ she quavered, ‘that helicopter was not police. The Sheriff told me; it belongs to hunters … and it can lower men all over the place.’

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