Poacher by Jereme Haack

Noah Grimm silently damned the jungle as sweat trickled into his eyes. His fingers sought out his itching flesh, but were turned back by the null-scent suit he wore. His brown eyes darted in every direction.

"Where could you have gotten to now, eh?" he quietly asked of his prey. A roaring sound instantly sent him into a defensive stance with his sonic rifle raised and armed. He chuckled at himself as he looked up and saw an antique F-15 flying overhead.

He continued forward, a camouflaged figure making less noise than his shadow. The jungle noises faded from his hearing as his eyes settled on the object of his search.

The tiger lay near a carcass, sleeping off its stomach full ungulate. Noah smiled. He made sure the sonic rifle was ready, the jungle and high technology do not mix. It checked out as far as he could tell, so he inched toward his final position.

Another sound overhead, this time the protests of a brightly colored bird at Noah's approach to the tree containing its nest. He swore as the tiger stirred then awakened. He ran to get a clear shot at the predator and pulled the trigger. The tiger stood and yawned a gaping yawn that was its last act as a living creature. Invisibly, inevitably, the unhearable sonics snuffed the life from the tiger. The once magnificent animal collapsed over onto its last kill.

A whine started growing in the forest. Noah clasped his hands over his ears as the rifle that had just won him his prize, began to betray him. The sonics descended into the audible range as it began to smoke and grow hot. Noah threw it as far as he could into the forest. A split second later, it exploded in a brief shower of flame and circuits.

Noah cursed the jungle at the top of his lungs, it didn't matter anymore now. If there were anti-poaching censors, they would have picked up the jungle claiming his sonic rifle. As he examined his catch, determining its worth, he remembered where he was. The Indian government had announced it had plans for a joint effort with the U.S. to protect the remaining tiger population in its boarders. His sources told him all the American money was being used to pad the pockets of the politicians instead, despite the new Indian administration's promise. The most this reserve would have would probably be less than a dozen poorly trained rangers, he could handle that.

The tiger looked like it would fetch him quite a sum. His buyers in Hong Kong would use every organ of the beast for their various powders and soups. He loaded the tiger onto a little treaded, pickup like machine he had brought with him. If this broke down, he would have to drag the enormous beast. After several hours, he could see him makeshift cabin through the trees.

"Yes, it's preserved perfectly. Not a scratch on the prize, I used sonics."

"Some of my customers feel that sonics ruin some of the essential structures in the animal," the oriental face on the screen before him responded.

"C'mon, Wong, I have to kill it some way. Now, honestly, how many tigers do you have coming in these days? I'll tell you how many: only the ones I kill. Now quit trying to cheat me or I'll take my business elsewhere."

"Ah, Noah, you are right. Please forgive me..."

Noah awoke in his cabin with a start. Someone was watching him. Grabbing his projectile rifle and night-vision goggles, he slowly opened the door. He crept carefully around the cabin. Nothing. Must just be nerves. He went back inside and returned to sleep.

Before he opened his eyes, the tone of the jungle noises told him it was mid-morning. Through breakfast, Noah was formulating his next move. Wong had given him a good price. Surprisingly, he had also offered to send some of his men to pick up the tiger with a promise of more if Noah had another carcass for him by the time they arrived. It was a suppliers market. India was one of the few places where tigers remained and Noah was determined to earn his fortune before they disappeared altogether.

After searching through his arsenal, he settled on his small-caliber, high velocity rifle. It would leave more marks on a tiger, but would be a surer kill and less likely to give him away. After making sure everything was in place, Noah left the cabin in search of another prize. Wong's men would take some time getting here, and Noah liked the idea of having two tigers to sell them. After an hour's prowling, the sound of voices stopped him. Risking the use of electronics, he pulled out his binoculars. They whirred softly as he searched for the source of the voices. He caught some movement and zoomed in on it. A grin came to his face as he made out the shape wearing the uniform of one of the park's guards. He crept slowly toward the man who seemed to be talking into a cellular phone. Noah snorted, so that's where the money went. Noah hid behind a convenient tree until the man finished his conversation. As soon as he heard the phone beep off, he came out and fired. A clean shot right between the eyes and the man fell limply to the ground. The sound of the shot sent something bounding away into the bush. Noah didn't get a look at it, but he thought he saw orange. The ranger must have been tracking a tiger and reporting back on it. It was almost too good to be true. Noah quietly hid the ranger's body under some bushes. He found the man's jeep and lifted the hood. Then he fiddled with the phone until it no longer worked. Hopefully, when someone came looking for the ranger they would think he had engine trouble and being unable to call anyone on his ruined phone, had gone walking off.

Now, he thought, he could finally track that tiger. The trail was faint, but his experience allowed him to follow it none-the-less. Hunting the hunter always gave Noah a primal thrill. In a sense, he was repaying the beasts for his hairy ancestors. In another, more important sense, he was doing it for money. Sure, someday he'd have nothing left to hunt, but damned if he wouldn't be filthy rich by then. Besides, anyone who personally ends a species earns a fame, of sorts, among certain circles. Noah imagined that the tiger he was tracking was the last one and could almost see the "Tiger: Noah Grimm" entry in the Greenpeace list of "Traitors to Earth". Stifling his chuckles, he went back to the task at hand. By the size of the tracks, the tiger looked to be the biggest and heaviest he'd ever come across. Breathing in the rank air he whispered, "Smells like money."

Screaming monkeys, buzzing insects, patter of rain, all the sounds of the jungle faded into the background as Noah followed the trail. The tiger had stopped briefly in a spot then continued on at a faster pace. He doubted he'd been found out, but something had drawn his attention. Speeding up, he could almost feel the tiger's closeness. Just as he felt the tiger was his, the tracks led him into a stream and ended.

"Damn."

The trail didn't start up again at the other side. The cat must be walking down the stream. Even if the bed hadn't been rocky, the murkiness of the water insured the impossibility of finding anything. Noah sat in the middle of the shallow water and pondered his choices: upstream or downstream. Figuring the tiger may have smelled a carcass in the water, he decided on upstream. Hoping he would pick up the tracks where the tiger left the water, he set off.

After an hour, doubt crept into his mind. Had he missed the tracks? Just before he turned to double back, a snuffle caught his attention. Unslinging his rifle, he stepped off onto the right bank and peered through the undergrowth. A wide smile formed as he saw, not the giant he had been following, but twin cubs. Wong would rain cash upon him if he could capture these two beauties alive. They were busy wrestling each other, so he crept stealthily up to them. Finally, they noticed his approach, but by then it was too late. Striking like a cobra, he grabbed them by the scuff of their necks. He grimaced at the racket of irate meowing they began. A plan of how to quiet them enough to take them back was soon made moot.

A great roar, louder than any thunder, split the forest behing Noah. Without turning around, he knew the owner of the huge tracks had found him. In one fluid motion, he dropped the cubs, raised his rifle, and turned to face the enraged tiger. Even his hard soul was shaken by the sight of this animal. It seemed to be a tiger straight out of legend. Slowly, confidently, it walked towards him. The beast actually seemed to swagger. Wonderment and fear were soon banished as Noah remembered his weapon. Calm returned as he pointed the rifle at the legend. A pull of his finger at the depleted uranium slug was fired with a crack. A twitch of the ears was the only acknowledgment the tiger gave to the bullet's passing. The question of how he could miss would have to wait, Noah decided, until after he could stop running for his life. The thumping of the tiger's paws on the forest floor was all the encouragement he needed to crash through the brush. For all his technology, Noah realized, he was no better then a grunting caveman as instinct drove him on. His breath started coming in ragged breaths and his legs began protesting. Finally, he tripped over a rotten log and sprawled on the ground.

His hands went up in a feeble attempt to block the strike that never came. Weakly, he looked behind him. Nothing. He began singing all the half-remembered hymns he could, thanking God that the tiger had merely chased him from the cubs rather than kill him. Not wanting to push his luck, he soon started back toward his cabin.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Grimm? You look ill."

Trying to regain his composure he said, "Must have caught something here in this festering jungle."

"Shall I send some remedies with my men?"

Noah had an idea of how much those would cost. "No thanks. How soon will your men arrive?"

With a slight smile on his lips, Wong said, "Sometime tomorrow, I suppose. In a hurry, Mr. Grimm?"

Not wanting to admit how much his encounter had shaken him, he found another reason, "Actually, yes. I bagged a warden."

Wong chuckled, "I'm sorry, we don't pay for those kills. You've never been caught yet, but if you are worried, I will tell my son to leave as soon as possible."

"Thanks. Wong..."

"Yes?"

The image of the cubs reappeared, "Would you be interested in a couple tiger cubs?"

The look of rapture answered the question before the words. "Yes, do you have them?"

"No, but I saw them today. I'll try to have them by the time you son gets here."

"If you could do this, you would be greatly awarded, I assure you."

He felt better already. "I'll see what I can do."

A brief rest was all Noah needed to ready himself. A brief rest and his state-of-the-art equipment, that is. Night had fallen by the time he was ready to set out. The goggles he selected doubled as night and infra red vision. This time he brought a tranquilizer gun for the cubs. The weapon he intended for their apparent guardian was a little more deadly. It was a standard military issue assault rifle with not so standard ammunition. The heavy caliber rounds exploded on contact with enough stopping power to bring down a charging rhino, if any had existed. It would surly mar the powerful beast, but he was no longer interested in it save that it not kill him.

Leaving his kill carrier where he had laid waiting for death hours before, he went to where he'd last seen the cubs. The muddy ground had preserved their tracks, as well as those of his frantic flight. Uneasiness settled about him as he saw the tiger in every moving leaf. After he got the cubs he promised himself he would retire and finally live off the money he'd been accumulating. Images of the Pacific island he planned to buy pushed the unpleasant thoughts aside.

After some time, the tracks began to double back on themselves and the tracks of the cubs' mixed with those of their guardian. He switched on the infra red viewer, hoping to have the tigers' warm blood give them away among the cool vegetation. He gave silent thanks as only two small images stood out. They were a ways away, but he was sure they were the cubs. When he had gotten within about a hundred yards, he switched back to the night vision. The white of the cubs' heat was replaced by their grainy image as the goggles turned night into day. Noah stopped in his tracks. A few feet to the cubs' right was something he'd missed when using the infra red: his would-be killer. It hadn't noticed him. Quickly, he readied the assault rifle. He advanced as far as he could get away with then savagely let loose a burst of fire. The crack of each bullets' firing was followed by a whuff as the shells exploded. The flashes of light caused his goggles to flare white as the light overwhelmed them. Even before his vision returned, the familiar thumping sound had told him something had gone wrong. Cursing, he blindly let loose another volley then turned and ran.

The tiger quickly ate up the ground between them. Noah knew he had no hope of outrunning it, but also he had a chance if he made it to the carrier in time. With the roaring only yards behind him he leaped into the small carrier and pushed the accelerator to the floor. Though he had souped it up, it was not made for outrunning an angry tiger. The beast raked its claws against the back of the miniature pickup.

"C'mon, damnit!" Noah shouted as he heard the tailgate being wrenched off. The thing was going faster than any tiger should be able to match, but the one behind him was only barely losing ground. Traveling quickly through a jungle is not a good idea even when it's possible and Noah prayed that nothing would upset the carrier before he got to his cabin.

The chase seemed to go on for several lifetimes when Noah's heart sank. He could hear the carrier slowing down. It's battery was being drained too fast. The tiger began to catch up. Noah had one last, desperate plan.

Rolling to a stop, he watched the carrier bound off unguided. As he hoped, the tiger went off after it. Trying to fire at it would only draw its attention if he missed again, so Noah watched it go. Summoning his reserves again, he ran toward the cabin. After too brief a time, he heard the sound of the protesting metal as his vehicle was torn apart in the distance. A frustrated roar seemed to cow the jungle into silence. Soon it was obvious the tiger would get to him before he got to his cabin despite the diversion. Noah picked the best spot he could find and waited in ambush. The tiger rushed toward him and Noah carefully tracked him in the sight. He would not miss this time. As the animal got closer, he noticed something wrong with it in the grainy picture but ignored it. Seven shots, fourteen explosions.

Vision returned in time to see the monstrosity leap onto him. He cried out as its claws pinned him to the ground, knocking the goggles off his head. Bathed in moonlight, Noah saw his attacker. It seemed to chuckle as he noticed that in fact all of his bullets had hit. Then it actually did chuckle. Where the bullets had hit, the orange striped fur had been blasted away to reveal metal!

"What...what the hell?" he gasped.

The tiger shifted position and drove its claws into his shoulders.

Light filtered through the trees as a craft flew above toward Noah's cabin.

In the light, he saw something else the bullets had revealed. On the tiger's forehead, where one of his first shots had hit, a familiar name had been printed.

It was the last thing he saw as four scalpel sharp fangs sliced through his neck.

"You're extinct, pal." said a female voice miles away.

"I think someone landed at the poacher's cabin. Care to deal with them , Madam Secretary?

India's recently appointed Secretary of Ecosystems grinned up at her Greenpeace host. "With pleasure."


[Issue 2]	[Archive]

The authors of these works are sincerely seeking comments and criticisms, please send them here.

Feel free to e-mail us at: [email protected]