Tiger, Tiger Read online

  ‘I’m afraid it’s a sad statement on the world,’ said April. ‘Each year, tiger numbers are getting less and less. Pretty soon there might be none left at all.’

  ‘Criminal poaching,’ added Zaf. ‘Crooks kill tigers for their skins, and their bones.’

  ‘Bones?’ asked Tara.

  ‘For medicine,’ said Zaf. ‘Some seriously misguided people think you can make special medicine from tiger bones.’

  ‘That’s senseless,’ muttered Ian.

  ‘You said it,’ April agreed. ‘Senseless.’

  ***

  The next morning, the sun was burning down and the air was already like a furnace before the friends got up.

  ‘What happened to our wake-up call?’ Ian yawned. Zaf realised he was right. Normally Amir shook them awake before it was light outside.

  The two of them staggered out into the sunshine. Zaf noticed that Amir’s jeep wasn’t parked outside his office like it usually was. Either he had left early, or he hadn’t come back last night.

  Then Zaf noticed something else. The camp site was completely deserted. There was no sign of anybody in the office, the dining tent, or walking around the grounds. They were completely alone.

  ‘Hello?’ Zaf called out. Then again. Apart from the buzzing of the insects, and the call of birds from the trees, there wasn’t a sound. No elephants, no mahouts, nothing. The campsite had been abandoned.

  Ian emerged from the back of the dining tent. ‘The kitchen’s empty. No dirty dishes or anything. I don’t think it’s been used since last night.’

  ‘I’m worried. It’s not like my uncle to ditch us like this,’ said Zaf. ‘And where are all the others?’

  Now Tara and April came out of their tent, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. ‘What’s up?’ Tara mumbled. ‘Did we sleep through the elephant trek?’

  Zaf shook his head. ‘Looks like we all did. And there’s something else. We’re the only ones here.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked April.

  ‘Look for yourself,’ said Ian, gesturing to the campsite with a sweep of his hands.

  The four friends finished getting dressed. Then, spreading out from the campsite, they wandered out down the road and into the jungle in all directions, going as far as they dared.

  ‘Keep your eyes peeled,’ said Zaf. ‘You wouldn’t want this to be the first time you come face to face with a tiger. Remember, their stripes are the perfect camouflage for the jungle.’

  But it soon became clear that there was no one anywhere near. They plonked themselves down at one of the tables in the dining tent and wondered what to do now.

  ‘I’m tired of waiting for something to happen,’ said Ian at last. He got up and went to his tent. A few minutes later he came back with something bright red in his hands, and threw it on the table. It was his flame-proof suit.

  ‘I thought I’d bring this – just in case,’ he beamed.

  The others looked at each other. ‘I have to admit, I brought mine as well,’ said Tara sheepishly.

  ‘Me too,’ said April.

  ‘Well, I guess that makes four of us,’ said Zaf. ‘I think you’re right, Ian, enough sitting around. Perhaps it’s time for Factor Four to find out just what’s going on.’

  Chapter Six

  Searching

  On Amir’s office wall they soon found a map of the tiger sanctuary showing the boundaries and tracks. Stuck to the map were little red pins with labels on them.

  ‘Here’s the campsite,’ said Tara, tracing the map with her finger, ‘and that must be the road we came in on.’

  ‘The names on these pins must be the tigers, and where they were last sighted,’ added April, reading one of the pins.

  ‘So what’s that circle mean?’ asked Ian, pointing.

  The others followed Ian’s finger. Uncle Amir had circled a part of the park, close to the river – a fair distance from the campsite. Above the circle he had written ‘Hussein!’

  ‘Another tiger?’ April suggested.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Tara, ‘or it would be labelled the same way as all the others.’

  Zaf looked around his uncle’s office. Everything was neat and tidy and in its place. On his uncle’s desk he spotted a little box.

  Zaf emptied the contents into his hand. There were two pins with labels. Two tigers. Taken off the map. Did that mean they were dead? Zaf shook the idea from his head.

  ‘So what’s our next move?’

  ‘Find your uncle,’ said Tara. She pointed at the circle on the map. ‘And that looks like a good place to start. Your uncle must have circled it for a reason. Also it’s near the river – perfect for Aqua to take a dip in.’

  April nodded. ‘Right! I could hit the river where it runs near the camp here, and ride downstream.’

  ‘And I can follow things from above,’ said Zaf.

  ‘What about us?’ said Ian.

  ‘The last thing this forest needs is an out of control fireball cruising through it,’ Tara laughed. ‘You and I get to hold the fort for the moment, and see what we can find out by going through Amir’s office.’

  Ian groaned. ‘But I brought my suit and everything.’

  Zaf patted him on the back. ‘I’m pretty sure you’re going to get a chance to use it. Come on, April, let’s get moving.’

  Zephyr and Aqua jogged down the track that led from the campsite to the river’s edge. Something told them that they needed to move quickly. Whatever had happened to Uncle Amir, it couldn’t be good.

  They reached the river, a ribbon of blue water carving its way through the jungle. At least it looked deep – plenty of room for Aqua to use.

  ‘Watch out for gharial,’ said Zephyr. Aqua thought he was teasing, and rolled her eyes at him. ‘I mean it – keep safe. There’s no Mr Arturi to guide us through this one.’

  ‘Will do,’ Aqua said, sliding down the muddy bank, and stepping into the water. Zephyr watched as Aqua’s body changed in front of his eyes, turning from flesh to liquid. From his friend April into the raging current. All that was left was a silver wetsuit with the outline of a girl inside it.

  ‘Testing, testing. Are you receiving? Over.’ Zephyr tried his mike once Aqua had disappeared.

  There was nothing. Then he heard a crackle in his earpiece. ‘You can be such a Poindexter sometimes,’ Aqua laughed, her voice blurred by the water. ‘Heading downstream now.’

  Zephyr leapt into the air and blasted upwards, his arms by his side, his ears popping, his mask pressed hard against his face.

  ‘I’ll go on ahead and radio when I see something,’ he said.

  When he thought he was high enough, Zephyr levelled out and followed the stretch of water below. He reckoned he was just below 7,000 feet. About the height a small plane might go.

  If there was something where Uncle Amir had circled it, all he needed to do was keep the river in sight. Spread out before him, the jungle was like a carpet of rich green.

  Zephyr looped the loop, and again, shooting up high into the air, and back-flipping around. He couldn’t help himself. Ever since the awakening of his powers he’d been working on his skills. Now, he barrel-rolled – spinning through the air like a dart about to hit its target. He spotted some parrots on the wing far below him, and gave chase. The startled parrots squawked and changed tack.

  Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted it. What looked like another campsite. A cluster of tents in a clearing next to the river. Zephyr allowed himself to drop down, bringing the camp into view. There were three jeeps parked nearby.

  And if he wasn’t mistaken, one of them was Uncle Amir’s.

  Chapter Seven

  Hussein

  Back at their camp, Ian and Tara were still in Amir’s office, rooting around for information on Hussein. Not that they’d found any. What they did discover was a chart showing the number of tigers in the sanctuary. And year, by year the numbers were getting smaller.

  ‘At that rate, there’ll be none left in a few ye
ars,’ Ian muttered.

  ‘Some of those deaths would be natural,’ said Tara. ‘But look at that column.’

  Ian followed where Tara was pointing. Under ‘fatalities’, there was a column headed ‘poaching’ and each year that number was getting bigger.

  Just then, there was a clatter from the kitchen next door. Ian and Tara froze. Doing his best to keep control, Ian burst through the door and raced into the kitchen, hands raised, ready to unleash a fireball. But when he saw who it was he smiled. It was the camp cook, a sack of rice in his arms. The cook looked more startled than he was.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Ian gestured to the camp. ‘Where is everyone? Where did you go?’

  The cook raised his finger to his lips – telling Ian to be quiet. He looked around with fear in his eyes.

  ‘What is it?’ Tara whispered. ‘What are you afraid of?’

  The cook shook his head, and hissed something at them in his own language. He didn’t speak any English. Ian and Tara understood one word though. ‘Hussein.’ Then the cook raised his arms like he was firing a rifle. He pulled the imaginary trigger, first at Ian, then at Tara, and then at himself. The cook repeated the word ‘Hussein.’

  Ian and Tara didn’t need to be expert in languages to work that one out.

  The cook made apologetic noises that suggested he was sorry he couldn’t help them, and left as quickly as he had come, taking the food he had come for.

  Tara ran back to the office and grabbed her headset. ‘Guys!’ she blurted into the mike. ‘There’s something you need to know…’

  ***

  At the campsite by the river, Hussein leaned back in his chair and watched his men at work as they stretched a tiger skin between two trees. The skin with its proud, black stripes that just the day before had been part of a living, breathing tiger.

  Hussein stroked his beard while he watched. This trip was working out well. They had caught two tigers already, using a single tiger pit. He and his men would catch one more. Then they would let the skins dry for a few days and pack up camp. Go to the city and sell the skin and bones on to a dealer for a big pile of cash. The dealer would clean them some more, and arrange to have them smuggled over the border.

  One day he would move up the ladder, thought Hussein to himself. Become a dealer. That was where the big money was. Then he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. He was tired of being just a foot soldier.

  ‘Be careful there!’ he barked suddenly. ‘I don’t want that skin damaged.’ Hussein’s hand touched the revolver at his side. He couldn’t help it. It was instinct. He lived by the gun – as the people in this park were quickly finding out. His men swallowed, and kept their eyes on the ground. It was best not to argue.

  From behind Hussein came a growl. A voice full of fury.

  ‘Don’t want that skin damaged – listen to him, Rajiv.’ Amir and Rajiv were roped to a tree. They’d been there for hours. Amir spat on the dusty ground. He tried to shift his arms so that the rope didn’t cut into his skin. ‘As if that murderer could possibly harm that tiger any more.’

  Rajiv didn’t share his friend’s bravery, and said nothing.

  Hussein got up from where he was sitting and marched over to Amir. ‘Just for that, you can go without water for the rest of the day. Remember, I still haven’t decided whether I’m going to let you live yet, park warden,’ he hissed.

  If Amir was worried, he didn’t show it. ‘Coward,’ he spat.

  Hussein leant down and grabbed Amir round the jaw, forcing his face up. ‘You should have run when you had the chance. All your friends did.’ Hussein chuckled, a hacking laugh that showed off a mouth full of gaps. ‘They won’t be coming to help you. No one will.’

  Chapter Eight

  Poachers

  Zephyr banked right, and slowed down, dropping steadily to tree level. He darted through the thick web of branches, and touched down close to the river bank, just downstream from where he’d seen the campsite. After what Tara had told them about Hussein, they needed to be alert. Super powers or not, none of them were bulletproof.

  Zephyr clambered to the side of some boulders on the river’s edge. ‘Aqua, you there?’ he whispered into his mike.

  ‘Still going with the flow,’ came the reply. ‘This river’s running fast. Shouldn’t be long.’

  ‘Look for me on the bank to your left,’ said Zephyr. He waited for a little while, keeping his eyes on the water. Not that you had any chance of spotting Aqua when she’d gone liquid. He remembered how she’d told them about the first time she’d transformed. She had been swimming in the sea when a shark had come looking for a snack – only it never found her. Only sea water.

  Just then, a part of the river started to swirl. A head emerged, then a silver wetsuit, and arms that looked like they were made of water.

  Aqua stepped out onto the river bank, and transformed into flesh again. She climbed up the bank and crouched down beside Zephyr.

  ‘Glad you could make it,’ he whispered.

  ‘Had to deal with some hairy rapids.’ Aqua wrung out her wet hair. ‘What’s the plan?’

  ‘The camp is just around that bend there, right next to the river,’ said Zephyr, pointing. ‘You flow downstream and see what you can find out from the water. Get a good scope on how many men we’re dealing with. What kind of equipment they’ve got. Try and find out where Amir and Rajiv are. I’m going to fly in low – under the cover of the trees.’

  ‘Remember what Tara said,’ Aqua reminded him. ‘They’re probably all armed.’

  ‘We’ll be in and out,’ promised Zephyr. ‘No fancy stuff. We’ll come back later when it gets dark. Besides, we’ve got to let Inferno crash this party or he’ll never speak to us again.’

  Aqua slipped into the water and was gone. With the current as strong as it was, she’d make the camp in no time.

  Zephyr sprung into the air, and darted back into the forest. As he flew through the canopy of trees, flocks of startled birds burst from their branches, chattering and screeching. Zephyr hoped they wouldn’t give the game away.

  As soon as he could see the tents in the clearing, Zephyr threw on the brakes, and grabbed hold of a large branch, swinging himself behind the thick leaves. He could see the camp, but the men wouldn’t think of looking up this high. At least, he hoped they wouldn’t.

  From his perch Zephyr had a good view of the campsite. He could see a couple of poachers busy around the camp, loading things into the jeeps. There might be more men in the tents or down by the river – he couldn’t be sure.

  Zephyr’s heart started thumping. There, lashed to a tree trunk on the edge of the camp, were Uncle Amir and Rajiv. Prisoners.

  Amir looked like he had been roughed up. His face was bruised and his head hung down. Rajiv didn’t look much better. They looked like they’d been there all night.

  Then from the river bank came another man. Dark glasses, dark beard, drying himself with a towel. He was calling out orders to the others. Hussein, it had to be.

  Zephyr couldn’t hear what Hussein was saying, as he was too far away, so he clambered up to a closer branch, on the edge of the clearing. Then it happened.

  There was a loud crack, and suddenly Zephyr was falling. For a moment he forgot he could fly, and a moment was all it took. He bounced off the branch below, then another, crashing through the leaves, snapping twigs, arms clawing uselessly. He hit the ground with a loud thud, and rolled around on the forest floor, winded and gasping for breath.

  The men in the camp froze and stared at the strange intruder. A figure in a blue body suit, twisting in the dirt. Amir lifted his head.

  Hussein was the first to react. He reached for his holster and whipped out his gun. ‘Get him!’ he ordered.

  Chapter Nine

  Flash Flood

  Zephyr’s head hurt. Everything had gone blurry. Slowly his breath came back to him, and he pushed himself gingerly up off the ground. He adjusted his goggles just in time to see two men run towards him across th
e clearing, with Hussein close behind them.

  Zephyr wobbled to his feet, and turned back to the forest, but he was too unsteady to fly, and too sore to run. The men were bearing down fast. There was a loud crack, and a whine. Then another. Little puffs of dirt kicked up near Zephyr’s feet. They were shooting at him! He had to get out of here.

  But then came a roar from the direction of the river, and from nowhere, a torrent rushed over the clearing, crushing tents, slamming jeeps, and swatting the men to the ground like they were scarecrows. Hussein’s legs were whipped from under him. Amir and Rajiv were drenched.

  Hussein and his men leapt to their feet, as the flood water retreated, but the intruder was gone.

  Hussein fired uselessly into the forest, and screamed at the sky. He was sure the strange man had been spying on them. He hadn’t been a villager, that was for sure. But what on earth had happened to the river? A couple of his men were standing at the river bank staring at the water – they had never known anything like it.

  Hussein quickly went and checked on the tiger skins in the trees – at least they were still dry. Their payday was safe.

  ‘Change of plan. Get this place packed up!’ Hussein snapped at his men. ‘After we catch that tiger tonight, we move out!’ He spat on the ground. ‘And then we get rid of these two.’ He gestured at his prisoners.

  Zephyr blasted his way through the forest and up into the sky, faster than he’d ever flown before. Then again, he’d never been shot at before. He slowed down when he was well out of range.

  ‘You OK?’ a voice fizzed in his ear. It was Aqua.

  ‘Just about. Thanks for saving my skin.’

  ‘No worries.’

  ‘Heading back to camp now.’ Zephyr exhaled loudly. That had been far too close for his liking.

  ***