Read Online Savage Lands by Andy Briggs - Free Book Online

catch their tail, but to no avail. On two occasions, Clark had pushed into the bush where they thought they’d detected movement, but found no signs of anybody passing through. It was as if a ghost was tracking them, and now, in the chill night, Greystoke’s words had added menace.
    Archie’s disbelieving snigger cut through the night. “I think we’ve had our share of ghosts out here. We thought our camp was haunted, until Tarzan showed up.”
    Greystoke shook his head. “In my experience, there are still many things on this earth that remain unexplained. Opar is one of them. If it really does exist, we don’t know which civilization built it, or what happened to them. There are legends … terrible tales about the people of Opar.”
    Robbie was enthralled despite himself. He asked in a low hush, “What kind of tales?”
    Greystoke looked thoughtful for a moment, recalling the list of terrors he had heard about. “People who were not quite human. Mutations … hybrids … things that should not be. Bloodthirsty too. Many stories recount villages being attacked, the inhabitants whisked away. Devoured by the Opar’s cannibalistic population.”
    Silence fell once again. Greystoke sniffed the fruit in his hands suspiciously and then bit into it. He let out a gasp of pleasure and smiled. “Incredible! It’s like an explosion across my taste buds. I’ve never tasted such a thing!” he exclaimed.
    Nobody paid any attention. They were all staring over his shoulder, hands frozen midway to their mouths. Greystoke suddenly turned, a chill running through him. A figure stood watching them from the trees. The mist diffused its outline and obscured features, but it looked almost childlike and remained motionless.
    Greystoke shot a look at the others before slowly turning and standing.
    â€œYou must be Tarzan, I assume? Hello. I’m your cousin William.”
    The figure remained silent and Greystoke’s uneasiness increased. He glanced at the others for encouragement, but they all remained motionless. Greystoke gathered himself, refusing to display any trace of fear.
    â€œDon’t be alarmed. We mean you no harm. You should recognize your friends here,” he indicated to the others, partially turning as he did so. When he looked back the figure had gone. He blinked in surprise, his voice lowering to a raspy whisper. “Where’d he go?”
    â€œHe just vanished,” whispered Robbie who had been watching the figure the whole time. “Like the fog just swallowed him up.”
    â€œAnd that wasn’t Tarzan,” Jane added.
    â€œShe’s right,” said Clark, keeping his voice low. “He’s much bigger. And not the kinda bloke to be so shy.”
    The color drained from William Greystoke’s face and he took a step away from where the figure had been.
    Archie insisted they keep watch throughout the night. Despite their exhaustion, it took them all a long time to drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.
    â€¢ • •
    S ome primal instinct woke Jane in the dead of the night. The campfire had faded to embers and her father was slumped asleep, still sitting upright, his head lolled on his chest. What had woken her? Instinct told her not to move. Her eyes rapidly adjusted to the darkness.
    And then she saw movement. A single squat figure stepped out of the trees, a hunting spear in one hand. His footfalls were silent, like a phantom. The closer he got, the more unusual he looked. It was the same figure they had seen in the mist. Although he had the stature of a child, he had the wrinkled face of an old man. More figures appeared from the trees and Jane couldn’t stop a startled gasp spilling from her lips. She moved to sit up, but felt a gentle pressure press her in place, and heard Clark’s low voice as just the faintest of whispers.
    â€œDon’t.”
    The figure stopped, looking directly at Jane