The Extinct

CHAPTER

57





Darkness covered Thomas and his only light was the moon, but he pressed forward. He searched the tall grass with his rifle held in front of him, his palms sweaty. The roar of one of the big cats was in the distance; a leopard probably. Sometimes he’d hear the hollering of baboons but they were rare.

“Sandra!” he yelled out against his better judgment. He wasn’t exactly certain that he expected a response.

Thomas stopped underneath a large tree and sat down, exhaustion weakening his legs and making his feet ache. The moon was full and shone brightly in the night sky. It reminded him of his drunken days in Africa. Watching the full moon through the jungle canopy, unsure what day it was and not really caring.

He rose and continued his search.

There was little in the Indian night that could surprise him any longer. He knew the calls of every animal out here. But truth be told, he was taken aback by the creature he’d killed yesterday. He’d heard rumors from the tribesmen for years about giant hyenas that stole children in the night, but how could one believe in such stories?

As he made his way through the grass he became acutely aware that something else was in here with him. Whenever he’d move forward, he’d hear the grass behind him parting.

He took a few steps forward and heard the sound again. Thomas took a deep breath and dropped to one knee, spinning around with the rifle held in front of him. But the grass was empty. The wind rustling through a few of the taller strands.

He lowered his rifle and stood up, feeling foolish. Glancing around, he could see that he hadn’t been following any sort of trail for quite some time. He was just wandering aimlessly, breaking the first rule of searching the plains.

Walking back through the grass, watching the moon and the stars, he saw movement in the periphery of his vision. A roving mass just to the left a few yards away. He could tell by the width of the part in the grass that it was something large.

Thomas raised his rifle and took aim. The mass was moving closer, crawling slowly along the ground.

It was stalking him.

His finger lightly pressed on the trigger, not pulling it the entire way until he had a clear shot and knew what he was hitting. The movement slowed, and then stopped. The part in the grass stayed in one place.

Thomas watched it. It must’ve spotted him. He steadied the rifle and fired. A whine sounded as a leopard jumped into the air, its body twisting as it howled in pain. The lithe body of the cat landed in the grass and limped away, a large wound adorning its shoulder.

Thomas breathed a sigh of relief, and walked toward where the leopard had been. They were ferocious creatures; he’d seen one take on a wildebeest by itself. There were even stories of them killing adult gorillas. Injured, they were downright unpredictable. He saw the leopard hobbling to a nearby tree and he raised his rifle and took a step forward.

As he did, he felt something soft giving way underfoot. Glancing down, he saw a cylindrical shape underneath his boot. He bent down and picked it up, bringing it into the moonlight. It felt rubbery and wet; it was a severed arm.

Thomas dropped the arm and stumbled backward; it was the arm of a Caucasian female, the nails painted red. The flesh looked gray and was flaking off the bone.

He looked at it a moment longer and then turned away, choking back his emotion. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder, he started making his way back to the jeep.