Black Water

EELONG

(CONTINUED)

The small, yellow giggrew larger in front of Bobby and Kasha as they sped to catch up. Bobby looked to the ground below where thousands of gars were making their way along the route to Black Water. They looked to Bobby like an army of ants, all moving toward the same goal. Bobby nudged Kasha and pointed down. She looked and nodded. “It really is incredible” was all she could say.

Far ahead, the gray mountains that held Black Water were in sight.

“Don’t worry,” Kasha said. “We’ll catch him.”

“Then what?” Bobby asked.

Kasha didn’t answer. Bobby truly felt as if her plan was to pull a kamikaze stunt and crash into the gig to knock it out of the sky. The idea terrified him, of course, but he was torn. If this was the only way to stop Saint Dane, then maybe this is what had to be done. He could only hope that Kasha was a good enough pilot to land their gig once it was crippled by a collision. One thing he knew for sure: There were no parachutes on board. He wouldn’t be able to bail out the way he did with Jinx Olsen’s plane. If the gig went down, they were going down with it.

They were near enough to the yellow gig so that Bobby could see the klee pilot was looking down, probably to check Seegen’s map against the terrain. Bobby figured that the pilot was so intent on carrying out the mission, he never thought there might be somebody chasing him. Kasha kept their gig directly behind him so there was less chance of him catching sight of them if he looked off to either side.

“I don’t want to have to crash into him,” Kasha said, as if reading Bobby’s mind. “But I will if I have to. There’s a chance we’d survive, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Me neither. Is there a Plan A?”

“The gigs have a tool package underneath,” Kasha explained. “That’s where we keep the net for harvesting and a few other cutting tools.”

“Can we get to them?” Bobby asked.

“No,” Kasha answered, smiling slyly. “But we can dump them. I wonder what would happen if they landed on his main rotors?”

Bobby smiled with relief. Kasha had a nonsuicide plan after all. If they could fly over the gig and dump the tool package, the netting and the other tools might foul the klee’s rotors.

“I like this,” Bobby said. “Can you get on top of him? He’s going pretty fast.”

“I can catch him anytime I want,” Kasha said. “I was waiting until we hit…that.” She pointed out in front of them to the huge lake they had detoured around on their previous trip to Black Water. “It’s better if he crashes in the water than on a bunch of innocent gars.”

Bobby chuckled. Kasha knew exactly what she was doing.

“Strap in,” she ordered. “This might get bumpy.”

Bobby quickly slipped the safety straps that were built into the seats around his shoulders. Kasha did the same. A quick look down told them that the klee pilot was nearing the shore of the lake. They would have a short window of opportunity when he was flying directly over the water. After that he’d be back over the streaming mass of gars on the far side. They had to make their move now. Kasha reached for the throttle. Bobby felt the gig shudder. He had thought they were flying under full power. He was wrong. The little gig shot forward with such force that Bobby was pressed back into his seat. Kasha nosed the craft up and they rose higher. Timing was going to be critical. They needed to fly directly over the other gig, which was pretty dangerous in itself, and drop the tool package before the klee pilot realized what was happening. Then they had to hope it would do enough damage that the gig would crash into the lake.

Bobby held his breath. Kasha maneuvered their gig closer to the klee. They were only a few yards behind the yellow gig when Kasha toggled a switch on her control panel. Bobby heard a mechanical sound, along with a bump. It reminded him of the sound he heard on passenger planes when they dropped the landing gear. He figured that Kasha had opened up the tool hatch below.

Kasha eased their gig forward. She flew with one hand on the joystick and the other on the control panel, fine-tuning the rotors. Bobby’s heart leaped. They were actually going to do it!

But there was one thing Kasha hadn’t counted on-the sunbelt. The band of light in the sky was behind them. As soon as they got above and behind the yellow gig, their shadow crept over their quarry. The klee pilot saw the looming shadow and spun around in surprise. Busted.

“Drop the tools!’ Bobby shouted.

“We’re not over him!” Kasha shouted back.

The klee pilot instantly dove down and away to his left. Kasha didn’t panic. She dove right after him. The quick drop made Bobby’s stomach lurch. Now it was a true chase, because their prey was on the run. The klee pilot was good. He made quick, evasive maneuvers to try and ditch them. Kasha matched him, turn for turn. They were like two jet pilots in a dogfight.

“Don’t lose sight of him,” Kasha ordered.

The klee pulled out of his dive into a steep and sudden climb. Kasha wasn’t fooled. She stayed with him, pointing the nose of their gig to the sky. The sudden change pushed both of them back into their seats with such g force that it slammed Bobby’s head into the back of the seat. It felt like a ten-ton giant just sat in his lap. The only thing he could move were his eyes.

“Look!” he shouted.

The klee’s gig suddenly began to fall straight down, as if he had lost power. It plummeted toward the ground, twisting in the air like a feather.

“What happened?” Bobby shouted. “Is he crashing?”

“No, he cut the rotors,” Kasha said. “He’s good. I’m better.”

Kasha didn’t use the same maneuver. Instead she went into a power dive that was so sudden, it made them both go weightless. Seconds later, after Bobby fought back the urge to puke, he looked around for the yellow gig. It was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he?” Bobby shouted.

Kasha had lost sight of him too. She looked around quickly, then shouted, “There!”

Sure enough, the yellow gig was back under power. It had righted itself far below them and was headed in the opposite direction, back toward Leeandra.

“He’s going back,” Bobby shouted. “He’s giving up!”

Kasha watched the yellow gig, trying to guess her quarry’s thoughts. “He knows he can’t outmaneuver us with that heavy tank in front.”

“Exactly! That’s why he’s going back.”

They both watched as the yellow gig dropped low to the ground, barely at treetop level. The side rotors twisted to the horizontal position, parallel with the body, which slowed the gig down considerably.

“Why’s he slowing down?” Bobby asked.

“Because he’s not going back,” Kasha exclaimed. “He’s setting up for a run.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s getting in position, as if he were going to spray fertilizer,” Kasha said.

“But why would he-” Bobby didn’t finish the question because the answer hit him a second later. The klee pilot knew he didn’t stand a chance against Kasha, so he was going to make sure he was successful in at least one part of his mission. He was going to go back and dump the poison on the thousands of gars on the ground.

Gunny trotted out from the crevice on his zenzen and looked out over the beautiful crater of waterfalls. He was followed right behind by Boon and Mark.

“Wow” was all Mark could say as he got his first glimpse of the wooded valley and the seven waterfalls that fed the lake at the bottom. The sunbelt had made its way up over the rim of the crater, bathing the lake in light, making the waterfalls sparkle.

“It’s more beautiful than Pendragon described it,” Boon said. “Which one is the entrance to Black Water?”

“Second waterfall from the right,” Gunny answered.

“Should we wait for Courtney and Spader?” Mark asked.

Gunny frowned. “We can’t risk it,” he answered. “We don’t know how much time is left. I’m sorry, Mark.”

Mark was pained, but chose not to argue. The thought of leaving Courtney behind was horrible. A wave of guilt washed over him for having gotten her involved in the first place, but he pushed it out of his head. He knew he couldn’t look back, at least not yet. They had to get the antidote to Black Water.

“Stay close together,” Gunny said. “We’re almost there.”

He coaxed his tired zenzen off the rocky ledge and down the steep slope. Boon and Mark followed close behind. The two animals were near exhaustion, so they let gravity do most of the work. They descended along the grassy slope and into the trees that became more and more dense as they drew closer to the lake.

“Once we get into Black Water,” Gunny said, “we should find Aron. We’ve got to explain to him the danger that’s headed this way and get him to-” Gunny never finished the sentence.

The tang didn’t let him.

With no warning the beast leaped from the thick underbrush and knocked Gunny off his zenzen.

“Gunny!” Mark shouted as the tall Traveler hit the ground.

Boon instantly leaped off his zenzen to help Gunny. On his way down he slapped the animal on the backside and shouted “Yeahhh!” The animal bolted forward, with Mark still on board.

“Get out of here!” Boon shouted.

Mark lunged forward to grab the saddle so he wouldn’t fall off and break his head. He took one quick glance back to see Boon leap at the tang. But turning around threw him off balance and he nearly fell again. He turned back forward as the zenzen charged through the thick forest, out of control. He dug his fingers under the front of the saddle in a death grip. Branches whipped by, tearing at his arms and legs. The zenzen may have been exhausted, but surprise and fear gave it a second wind. Mark knew he had to get control before he was knocked off, or thrown off, or crashed into a tree. He gripped the saddle even tighter with his right hand and tentatively let go with his left. He reached forward to grab the reins, butthey bounced freely on the zenzen’s neck, out of reach. If he was going to get them, he was going to have to move forward and let go of the saddle.

The zenzen flew past a tree branch so closely, it hit Mark’s shoulder, nearly knocking him off. It was the last bit of convincing he needed. He had to act. He gripped the saddle with his hands and let go with his sore legs, pulling himself forward and into the seat. He locked his legs around the animal and let his hands leave the saddle, lunging for the reins. His chest hit the zenzen’s neck, snapping his head back and making him nearly bite through his lip, but he grabbed hold of the reins with both hands.

“Whoa!” he screamed, and pulled. The zenzen didn’t stop. Mark pulled harder, but the zenzen kept galloping through the forest. Finally Mark wrapped the reins around each of his hands, got a tight grip, and yanked both straps as hard as he possibly could. “I…said…WHOA!”

The zenzen bucked, whinnied, and finally jogged to a stop. Mark sat in the saddle, exhausted but still in one piece. He felt the tank to find it hadn’t moved. He was still in business. He glanced around to find he was in the middle of an unfamiliar forest. He had no idea how long his wild jaunt had gone on, but he knew he was nowhere near the spot where Gunny was attacked. Looking up, he saw that he wasn’t far from his destination-the base of the waterfall to Black Water. Mark knew his mission. He had to get the tank to Aron.

But he also knew that Gunny may be hurt. Along with Boon. And if he was being totally honest with himself, he’d admit that he was terrified to go ahead without them. So rather than press on toward the waterfall, Mark grabbed the reins the way he had been watching Boon do for hours. The zenzen responded. It was too tired not to. The animal turned around. Mark gave it a kick, and they trotted back toward the spot where they had been attacked.

Courtney scrambled up the rock face as quickly and expertly as if she were climbing a jungle gym at home. There were plenty of places for her to find handholds and spots to wedge her toes. Her soft, rubberlike Cloral swim shoes were almost as good as climbing boots. They weren’t much protection, but they allowed her to feel the rock and find safe purchase.

Spader climbed beneath her, doing his best to keep up without taking dangerous chances. He didn’t have the experience that Courtney did, but what he lacked in technique, he made up for in strength.

“There’s only one rule,” Courtney shouted down to him. “Keep moving and don’t look down.”

“That’s two rules,” Spader said.

Both tried not to think how a single misstep would be disaster. “How did the tangs get up here? I thought they couldn’t climb?” Courtney asked.

“Maybe there’s an easier way up,” Spader offered. “And we’re not on it because?”

“Because we don’t have time to look for it,” Spader answered quickly. “Less talking and more climbing, please.”

“Don’t climb directly under me,” Courtney warned. “Just in case.”

Spader knew what she meant. If she fell, there was a good chance she’d knock him off the face too.

“That’s three rules,” Spader said. “Now you’re getting bossy.” He stayed right under her. If she fell, he was going to do his best to save her…and the tank of antidote on her back.

“We’ve still got a shot,” Kasha said.

She dropped the gig so quickly, Bobby felt as if they were in a free fall. She clutched the joystick. Her eyes locked on her prey.

The yellow gig was flying low over the lake, lining up for its killer run at the gars. Without the use of its side rotors, the yellow gig flew slowly. Kasha nosed their gig down and picked up even more speed. The force made the fragile craft shudder. Bobby nervously gripped the side of the cockpit, though he knew it was a worthless precaution.

“You can pull out of this dive, right?” he asked nervously.

“I think,” Kasha said. “I’ve never tried it before.”

Bobby swallowed hard.

Kasha continued, “The trickier part will be timing the drop. If we miss, we won’t get a second chance.”

“Then don’t miss,” Bobby said flatly.

Kasha gave him a quick sideways glance, then focused back on her quarry. The yellow gig with the poison was still over the lake, flying very low. The klee pilot kept looking back over his shoulder to see how close his pursuers were.

“If he dumps the poison at that level, he’ll kill thousands,” Bobby said.

“Hang on,” Kasha shouted.

She leveled out the gig, once again pushing them both back into their seats with the added g force. She jammed the throttle to its limit. They screamed over the lake, gaining quickly on the yellow gig. Bobby glanced down at Kasha’s furry hand on the joystick. It looked as if she were battling to keep it under control.

“Little more… little more…,” she coaxed.

The yellow gig was nearing the shore. In seconds it would be over land, and soon after, it would be in range of the gars.

“See that lever below the console?” Kasha asked between gritted teeth.

Bobby looked to see a dark, curved lever sticking up from the floor.

“Yeah,” Bobby answered.

“When I say pull…pull.”

Bobby reached down and grabbed hold. “Got it,” he said.

The klee in the yellow gig was focused on his deadly mission. Bobby glanced ahead to see they were getting so close to the gars, he could see their faces. He knew that in a few seconds, they could all be dead. Kasha pushed the joystick forward. The last bit of speed put them directly over the klee’s gig.

“Pull!” Kasha yelled.

Bobby yanked the handle and heard what sounded like a clatter of metal, followed by a horrifying, wrenching sound. Kasha pulled back on the stick and they climbed quickly. Bobby struggled against the force of the climb to turn around to see if they were on target.

They were. The rotors of the yellow gig were torn apart by the pile of tools that landed directly on them.

“Bull’s-eye!” Bobby shouted.

The net got wound up and caused two of the rotors to seize. It wasn’t total destruction, but enough to make the gig about as flight worthy as a watermelon. The klee struggled out of the cockpit and leapt for his life. Bobby figured he didn’t want to be anywhere near the spot where the poison landed. The klee plummeted straight down as the gig sailed forward. The klee hit the water first. Bobby saw him go under, then surface and swim frantically for shore. A few seconds later the gig splashed down. The damaged rotors continued to turn, frothing up the water like an outboard motor. The craft quickly flipped on its side and sank.

Kasha and Bobby sailed over the startled gars, who pointed up at them like they were some kind of prehistoric flying beast. The happy gars had no idea their journey had nearly ended in death. Kasha banked around and flew back over the spot where the gig sank. The only sign of it were the gentle ripples that spread out across the lake.

“Do you think the tank ruptured?” Bobby asked. “Maybe not,” Kasha answered. “They’re pretty strong.” Bobby finally took a deep, relieved breath and said, “You’re good.”

Kasha gave him a smug smile. “Do you think it’s over?” she asked. “Was that Saint Dane’s play?”

Bobby thought long and hard about the answer. “It could be,” he said. “But whenever I think Saint Dane is done, he isn’t.”

“So what should we do?” Kasha asked. “Back to Leeandra?”

“He’s still got nine tanks of that poison,” Bobby said somberly. “Back to Leeandra.”

Kasha banked the gig and set a course back to the jungle city.

“Let’s hope we don’t have to go through that nine more times,” she said as she gunned the throttle.

Mark was taking a crash course in learning how to ride a zenzen…self-taught. After struggling to figure out how to steer the animal and nearly hitting into more than one tree, he finally got the knack. It helped that the zenzen was too exhausted to put up much of a fight. Between riding in circles for a while, and not being sure of where he was in the first place, it took Mark a good half hour to find his way back to where they had been ambushed by the tang.

The only sign of the attack was a shredded piece of cloth lying on the jungle floor. There was no Gunny and no Boon. Mark sat on the zenzen, feeling more alone than he had felt in his entire life.

“This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be,” he said to himself.

Mark had dozens of different fantasies about what it would be like joining Bobby in the fight against Saint Dane. None of them involved being left alone, lost, fearing that Courtney was dead, with the last hope for saving a territory strapped to his back. As he sat on the zenzen, he truly didn’t know what he was going to do. He came dangerously close to crying.

That’s when he heard a sound. It had been there before; he just hadn’t registered it. It was a steady, white noise kind of sound. Mark looked to where it was coming from to see the top of a waterfall rising above the trees. Thewaterfall. Second from the right. Mark took a deep breath and blew it out to calm himself. He took hold of the reins and gave the zenzen a kick. Using his newly found expertise, he directed the animal to carry him on the final leg of his journey.

To Black Water.