Thomas sprinted through the grass toward the fire, the sounds of screams echoing in his head. Then silence. He stopped, panting. Heart pounding in his ears as adrenaline coursed through him like fire. He started running again until he was near the camp; no one there, a spilled flask of whiskey lying in the dirt, blood spattered across it. Their tents were torn to shreds; supplies smashed into the ground. Logs had been knocked out of the fire and the smoldering wood was cooling in the night air.
Thomas crept past the fire, not breeching the limit of illumination less than a few meters away. Couldn’t see anything aside from the tall grass though his senses were more attuned from fear. The fire dying. Taking a few paces back to stand next to it. Listening to his own breath as sweat rolled down his forehead.
There were eyes in the darkness. Not the circular yellow of the tigress; pinpoints of red. Small flames hanging above the ground. The eyes were affixed on him and he couldn’t move. His muscles were heavy and tight; a conscious effort to relax them.
Another roar ripped through the night followed by what sounded like laughter. He could hear the deep pant of the beast’s breathing and the slow thumping of an immense heart. Few paces back and the red eyes grow tighter, small slits nearly invisible in the night; a low growl.
Thomas knew he had two options: shoot or run. He was too close to get off more than one shot. One shot in the dark at a quick moving animal. He thought about standing still; not giving ground as sometimes worked with the big cats. Although predators could smell the sweat of fear and hear the increased beating of their prey’s heart, nothing triggered their savage instincts more than fleeing prey. They were meant to chase rather than just be fed.
His mind was blank, no thoughts able to penetrate the cloud of anxiety and fear. A bare instinct of survival bubbled up in his gut, and he ran.
The wind was against his face as he focused on keeping his balance on the uneven ground. Periphery of his vision blurred until he could only see what was in front him; a vague impression that he didn’t have a clear run ahead. He didn’t need to look behind him; he felt the enormous animal’s paws hitting the ground; sound of heavy breathing closing in on him. Thomas sprinted for the elephant carcass as he felt hot breath against the skin of his neck. He bounded over the bull’s carcass, hoping to lure the predator to the stink of meat and blood and away from him. His foot caught on the rough hide and then a white flash, his jaw absorbing most of the impact as he hit the ground.
Dazed and on his back, the blood begins to seep out of his mouth. The animal behind him slows.
A shot crackled through the air and Thomas looked toward the fire. James stood with a rifle in one arm, his clothes torn and stained black. His other arm was nearly severed at the shoulder; pouring blood into dry earth. He tossed the rifle to the ground and pulled a. 45 caliber Desert Eagle handgun from his waist.
The animal turned and ran for him. As Thomas lost consciousness the last things that reached his ears were gunshots and screams, and the wet sounds of an animal feeding.
CHAPTER
5
Eric Holden looked over his dorm room and decided it wouldn’t be worth cleaning. Empty pizza boxes, beer cans, clothes, papers, and magazines were piled on the floor. Even if he did clean it his roommate Jason would just dirty it again in a matter of days; he had an uncanny ability to find something organized and mess it up. Eric didn’t even think he did it consciously. But you couldn’t blame Jason; both his parents were psychiatrists. Who knows what they filled his head with when he was a kid.
Eric ruffled through a pile of clothes, grimaced on finding a pair of used underwear Jason had left, and pulled out two socks that hadn’t started to noticeably smell yet. He slipped them on, grabbed his shoes, and headed out the door.
Wendy was waiting for him outside in her new car, a fiery red Jetta, the new rims glittering in the sunlight from a recent wash. Her sunglasses were pushed up onto her forehead and she wore a tank-top and shorts, her smooth brown skin freshly lotioned. “Hey babe,” she said as Eric climbed in. She gave him a kiss on the cheek and pulled away from the dorms. “What’s up?” “Nothing much. I called you last night.” “I was at some party my mom was throwing for her book club. Let me tell you how fucking boring it was.” “Was it at your house?”
“No, the Plaza in New York. But like, I had to get all dressed up and we took this little shitty plane that I thought was going to crash any second. And then this sleazy guy who was there with his wife kept bringing me drinks and trying to ask me out and then he wanted to dance and I was like no way, I have a man.”
Eric smiled as she spoke and he looked out the window at the passing shops and gas stations and apartment buildings. He enjoyed the way she spoke; without much reflection. Too many people in college tried to act smarter than they were by making everything into a larger philosophical question. “Pull over here,” Eric said.
“What? Why?”
“I want to say hi to Charles.”
Standing on the corner with a cardboard sign was an older man with gray, dirty hair. He wore a coat though it was warm today and his sneakers were adorned with large holes, revealing his sockless feet. “How ya been, Chuck?” Eric said as the car came to a stop. “How you doin’ youngblood?” he said, genuinely happy to see him. “Haven’t seen you in a while.” “Just busy. You makin’ good money over here?” “It’s all right, ya know. Now who’s this pretty young thing here?” “This is my girlfriend Wendy.” “Hi,” she said, forcing a half-smile. “Wew boy, you hang on to her youngblood. Not many women can brighten a man’s day just by lookin’ at ‘em.” “I will,” Eric said. He took out his wallet and held a twenty dollar bill out the window. Charles seemed offended. “I don’t panhandle from friends my man.” “Consider it a loan then; pay me back when you can.” Charles thought a moment, and then grinned. He took the twenty and put it into his pant pocket. “A loan.” “You take care of yourself, Chuck.” “You too youngblood, you hit them books hard now cause they don’t hit back,” he said, chuckling.
Eric watched him as the car pulled away; he actually was glad to see him, more than he thought he would be. Charles would sometimes come down to the campus and smoke pot with Jason in front of the dorms, telling them stories about his days in the military and the differences between the prostitutes in the countries he’d been too. When it was snowing and the shelter was full they’d let him sleep in the hallway, eventually keeping a blanket and pillow in the closet for him.
Wendy said with a grimace, “Why do you guys have anything to do with him?”
“Chuck’s all right. There’s a lot of smart people around but they’re not wise. I think wisdom’s something else entirely. I think Chuck might be wise. Or crazy. I can’t tell. Anyway he used to be an officer in the army.”
“What happened to him?”
“I don’t know; he doesn’t really talk about it.”
The restaurant was packed but a large round table had been reserved on the patio underneath a red and white striped awning. Jason sat with two girls sipping margaritas and picking at some nachos. He was cracking jokes and the girls would fake laughter.
“Well well,” Jason said as Eric walked up to the table, pulling a chair out for Wendy. “Pele decides to join us finally.” He slapped Eric’s back and then motioned for the waitress to bring two more beers.
“I don’t want alcohol,” Eric said, “I got a game tomorrow.”
“Your name’s Pele?” one of the girls said. “That’s cool.”
Jason stared at her and then pinched her cheek. “Beautiful isn’t she?” he said to Eric. “Does he look Brazilian? He plays soccer on the school’s team.” “Oh,” the girl said, still not understanding. “Guess who I ran into?” Eric said, taking a sip of someone’s water, “Chuck.” “Oh yeah? What’s he up to?” “He was begging on the street corner near the Safeway. He looked all right.” “Why was he begging?” the other girl said in a high-pitched schoolgirl voice. “He’s homeless,” Eric said. “WTF, you guys hang out with homeless guys? Why?” “That’s what I said,” Wendy chimed in.
Jason said, “He’s seen more shit than anybody I ever knew. Been all over the world, slept with all sorts of woman. It depends how you measure success I guess but I don’t think he sees his life as a failure.”
They sat drinking and laughing and eating until well past noon. Eric watched Jason charm the women he was with. It was very subtle but he was seducing them in his own way. He played a game where he’d shower them with
