Clive Cussler - Fast Ice

“Remember Satchel Paige’s advice,” Joe said. “Never look back. Someone might be gaining on you.”

“He wasn’t wrong,” Kurt said, picking up the pace even further.

The vehicles were moving slowly, no more than fifteen or twenty miles an hour, but it was twice the speed a man could run for any appreciable length of time.

Kurt changed direction and veered to the right. Joe matched him.

It didn’t take long for the approaching formation to change its path as well, swinging around with remarkable precision, until the yawing V was lined up directly with their new course.

“Who knew lions were related to bloodhounds,” Joe said.

“The men in the trucks are doing the tracking,” Kurt said. “Must be using thermal or night vision scopes.”

Joe pointed to a looming rock formation ahead and to their left. It rose fifty feet from the ground, sloping on all sides like the back of a giant tortoise. “Night vision can’t see through rock. Let’s put that mound of granite between us and them.”

“Great idea,” Kurt said.

They cut to the left, running at a reckless pace, one that couldn’t be sustained.

The vehicles trailing them swung around to follow, slowed by the maneuver but still closing in. The sound of engines and tires on the rough ground was growing louder, shouts could be heard as the men yelled to one another and cursed at the lions they were relentlessly driving forward.

Kurt reached the edge of the rocks with Joe a few paces behind. He cut around the corner and then turned toward the fence, careful to keep the rocks between them and the headlights.

He’d gone no more than twenty yards when he had to put his heels into the ground and come to a sudden stop. Joe pulled up beside him, dropping into a crouch and freezing in position.

In front of them, shimmering in the dark, loomed a pair of luminescent eyes. A second pair rose out of the grass beside the first, with several additional pairs soon appearing beyond them.

“Looks like the lions outflanked us,” Kurt said.

“I don’t think so,” Joe replied. He heard a yipping sound.

“Jackals?” Kurt suggested.

“Hyenas.”

Whatever they were, the pack of animals grew to at least a dozen. At the same time, light from the pursuing vehicles had begun to creep around the rocks, stretching across the grass and bringing light out onto the open plain.

“Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place,” Joe said.

“I choose the rocks,” Kurt said. “Let’s get back—and quickly.”

They backed up, keeping their eyes on the hyenas until they neared the rocks, at which point they turned and sprinted up onto the dark stone. Kurt climbed as quickly as he could, taking cover halfway up where he found a gap in the rock. Joe pressed into the fissure beside him.

Out on the grass, the hyenas stood tall, sniffing the air. Their ears pricked up and their nostrils twitched. The sound of vehicles didn’t bother them—they were used to the presence of men and machines in the park—but they smelled something else. Another animal invading their turf.

Kurt inched forward as the lions made their first appearance. The big cats were illuminated by the lights of the vehicles following them. They loped into view and slowed to a walk and then came to a stop altogether.

“They smell the hyenas,” Joe said.

Kurt counted seven animals, four females and three males. They looked a little mangy, no doubt from their treatment in places they’d been rescued from. He saw scars on their hides and noticed one of the males moved with a limp.

Out in the grass, Ryland’s men pulled their vehicles to a halt near the edge of the granite outcropping. The lead vehicle was an open-top jeep sporting a roll bar and no doors. The other vehicles pulled up beside it, two SUVs and a flatbed truck.

A man in the passenger’s seat of the jeep stood up, poking his head and shoulders above the roll bar. He surveyed the terrain with a night vision scope, scanning back and forth.

Kurt whispered to Joe. “This might be our chance to get some wheels.”

“Sounds a lot safer than running through the Wild Kingdom on foot.”

Kurt climbed from his spot and went up, reaching the crest of the rock pile. From there, he moved in the direction of the parked vehicles, hoping they’d stay where they were until he got to the edge.

As Kurt and Joe moved in silence, the lions began to roar. Out on the grass, the dominant male made a false charge, his huge maned head tilting back and up as he bellowed at the hyenas. The other males followed suit.

The hyenas looked hesitant, but they didn’t retreat. They were not small animals themselves and they outnumbered the encroaching lions almost two to one. They gathered themselves together in a defensive pack, answering back in a series of barks and yips that sounded like mocking laughter.

“Don’t they know this isn’t a laughing matter,” Joe whispered as he crawled up beside Kurt.

“Apparently, they can’t read the room,” Kurt said. He eased forward, soon reaching the precipice of the rocks. Stopping there, he studied their options.

The rock formation descended in distinct steps—a six-foot drop from the top to an intermediate ledge that would take them closer to the stopped vehicles, then a ten-foot drop to the ground.

The four vehicles were parked close together. One of two Toyotas was tucked in close to the ledge, beyond which was the flatbed, then the jeep, then the second Toyota.

“We should go for the jeep,” Joe suggested.

The jeep would be easy to get into, with no doors and an open top. But there was a problem. It was the third in the line of four vehicles.

“We could loop around,” Kurt said. “Or—”

Before Kurt could finish his sentence, a pack of hyenas charged forward, four in the middle, two more on the right flank. They raced toward the dominant lion, swarming toward him from both sides.

The big animal reared back and knocked two of them down with a single swipe of his great paw. As those animals tumbled away, the lion lunged toward a third. At the same moment, one of the hyenas snapped at the lion’s hind legs. As teeth caught skin, the lion jumped and spun, chasing the hyena that had bitten him.

The smaller animals were quicker and healthier. They raced off cackling as if they’d played a trick on the big cat. Even as they left, other hyenas raced in.

The lion was suddenly on the defensive, spinning, roaring defiantly and snapping his jaws at anything in range as he tried to defend himself from all quarters.

For a moment, it looked like a game, with the hyenas racing around the lion and the larger beast swatting at them, always a step too slow or a split second too late. But the rest of the pride came on suddenly, six more lions charging forward at once, and what had been a playful and interesting encounter took on the look of a vicious brawl.

Some of the hyenas ran, others returned to the fight. In seconds, it became a confused, dust-obscured melee. All of it caught in the glare of the headlights.

“This is our chance,” Kurt said.

He dropped to the intermediate ledge and ran forward. Instead of jumping to the ground, he leapt off the precipice and landed square on the roof of the first Toyota, denting it and dropping to one knee. Standing up, stepping forward and leaping, he landed in the flatbed, which gave him the perfect runway on which to gather speed and launch himself toward the jeep.

Leaping high enough, he was able to grab the roll bar, vault over it like a gymnast and swing his legs forward.

His feet connected with the surprised gamekeeper, who took a boot to the face and went flying out onto the grass.

The driver flinched, looked back at Kurt and instinctively stomped on the gas.