Burning Angels

The elephant appeared perplexed: what smell was this?

The trunk reached deeper. Jaeger could see its moist pink end groping towards him. That trunk — as thick as a tree, and capable of lifting 250 kilos — could snake around a thigh or torso and rip them out of there in a flash, dashing them to pieces against the rock wall.

For an instant Jaeger considered going on the offensive. The elephant’s head was no more than ten feet away: an easy shot. He could see its eyes clearly now, the long, fine eyelashes catching in the light thrown off by his torch.

Weirdly, he felt as if the animal could see right through him, even as its trunk reached out to make first contact with his skin. There was something just so human — so humane — about its gaze.

Jaeger abandoned all thoughts of opening fire. Even if he could bring himself to do so, which he doubted, he knew a 9mm subsonic round would never pierce a bull elephant’s skull.

He abandoned himself to the elephant’s caress.

As the trunk made contact with the skin of his arm, he froze. It was so gentle, it felt as if a faint breeze was rippling his arm hairs. He heard the snuffling as the elephant sucked in his scent.

What could it smell, Jaeger wondered? He hoped to hell that the elephant dung had done the trick. But was there also an underlying human scent that the animal would still detect? Surely, there had to be?

Gradually the familiar smell of its own species seemed to calm the big bull. A few more caresses and sniffs, and the trunk moved on. Jaeger was using the bulk of his body to shield Narov, so the elephant was only able to take a few perfunctory sniffs at her.

Seemingly satisfied, the animal turned to its next task: herding its offspring through the bloodied mess that was all that remained of the hyenas. But before it moved away, Jaeger caught a glimpse in its eyes; those ancient, deep, all-seeing eyes.

It was as if the elephant knew. He knew what he had encountered here. But he had decided to let them live. Jaeger was convinced of it.

The elephant moved away to where the young ones were clustered on the rock shelf in fear and uncertainty. It used its trunk to settle and comfort them, before nudging those at the front to get moving again.

Jaeger and Narov grabbed the chance to clamber to their feet and scuttle onwards, ahead of the baby elephants, and towards safety.

Or so they thought.

39

They ran on, moving at a fast jog along the path.

The rock shelf broadened out into a flat expanse, where the lake came to a natural end. It was here that the rest of the herd had gathered. From the juddering thud of their tusks as they made gouging contact with the rock walls, this was also clearly the site of their salt mine.

This was what they had come for.

Jaeger crouched down in the cover of the cave wall. He needed a moment to catch his breath, and to try to get his pulse under control. He pulled out a water bottle and drank deep.

He waved it in the direction of the path they’d just taken. ‘What’s with moving the corpse? The hyena? It didn’t matter where it fell — dead’s still dead.’

‘Those baby elephants — they would not cross a path blocked by a dead hyena. I was trying to clear a way.’

‘Yeah, but twenty tons of daddy elephant was incoming to do the job properly.’

Narov shrugged. ‘I know that now, but… The elephant is my favourite animal. I could never leave the young ones trapped.’ She eyed Jaeger. ‘And in any case, daddy elephant did not so much as harm a hair on your head, did he?’

Jaeger rolled his eyes in exasperation. What was there to say?

Narov had a magical, almost childlike way with animals. Jaeger had realised as much during their expedition into the Amazon. At times she acted almost as if she had a closer relationship with animals than she did with her fellow humans; as if she understood them far better than her own species.

It didn’t seem to matter what kind of animals, either. Venomous spiders, spine-crushing snakes, carnivorous fish — sometimes all she seemed to care about were the non-humans on this earth. God’s creatures all of them, great or small. And when she had to kill an animal to protect her fellow operators — as now with the hyenas — she was haunted by regrets.

Jaeger drained the bottle and thrust it back into his pack. As he tightened the shoulder straps and prepared to move again, the light of his torch caught momentarily on something lying far below them.

Nature rarely follows straight, angular lines of design or construction, such as humans tend to favour. In nature, they are anathema. It was that — that blocky anomaly; that noticeable, unnatural difference — that had caught Jaeger’s eye.

A river drained into the lake from deeper inside the cave. Just before the point where it did so, there was a bottleneck. A natural constriction.

And on the near side of that narrow point stood a building.