The Chimera Sequence Read Free

those massive front paws on the ground, then rebounded, quivering, back into position. Two thin men in olive fatigues and black rubber boots followed immediately behind the dog. Innocence and Proper Kambale, brothers and career Virunga rangers, swung their AK-47s into the ready position and pushed into waist-high vegetation.
    The Kambale brothers had pointed to the clearing as they circled over the forested flanks of the extinct Mount Mikeno, recognizing a favorite old spot for a cool drink and debrief with tourists high off their first gorilla sightings. The clearing was born years earlier, with the cutting of an ancient hardwood for charcoal production, but it was overgrown now and quickly on its way to being completely reclaimed by the encroaching jungle. This park had been a home to the brothers for thirty tumultuous years, and Marna watched them drink in its verdant air anticipating a familiar recognition.
    The disturbed glance said it all. Something was off. Marna smelled it too, a faint tanginess mixing weakly with the dissipating fumes of the engine.
    “What’s that stench?” The distinct male voice came from right behind her, still inside the helicopter. His accent was an almost neutral American, just slightly affected by a hint of rural drawl.
    Cole McBride.
    Only three months since she’d first met this crazy wildlife veterinarian, and he had already won every competition for sending the most confusing romantic signals ever. But that was not her concern today.
    “Could an elephant have wandered up this far to die?” he continued.
    “You smell it too?” Marna asked.
    “Yes, something has died here.” Innocence Kambale turned back at the edge of the clearing, struggling to pull a determined Bonny out of the brush. She was onto something. The Virunga bloodhounds were trained to track both individual human scents and generic dead animal odor—useful for finding both the poachers and the poached. “Very close.”
    Marna swung her door open and leaned out of the pilot’s seat. Behind her, Cole appeared in the open hatch before jumping smoothly into the knee-high vegetation. He was just over six feet tall and well proportioned for his height, not too gangly but not a bulked up bodybuilder either. She’d had her fill of that type down in Joburg—rich Afrikaner guys who had nothing better to do than spend all day in the gym. But Cole was different. Decked out in rugged hiking boots, dark khaki pants, and a faded plaid button-down, he looked as if he could have stepped right off the pages of Outside magazine. The overgrown hair and closely cropped beard served to complete the picture. Not that she’d ever tell him so—his head was big enough already.
    Yes, he wasn’t only smart, but quite nice to look at, too.
    And he knew it.
    The Eurocopter’s mechanical roar had now been replaced by the screeching and scolding of an assortment of birds and small primates still upset by this monster’s invasion. Cole looked up into the trees and caught a flash of orangey-brown fur high in the canopy.
    “At least the golden monkeys are alive and well,” he said, bringing a pair of binoculars up to his eyes. After a few seconds’ observation, though, he wasn’t so sure. These dachshund-sized little balls of energy normally spent the majority of their time further down the slopes where their favorite meal of bamboo grew more abundantly. Why are they way up here? It looked like there were only about ten of them bouncing around in the branches, when normally this group had over sixty individuals. Some of the gorilla trackers had been working on habituating the family before last year’s flare up of violence, so it had been quite a while since the monkeys had seen any friendly human faces.
    A quick burst of popping machine gun fire rang out from slopes below, silencing them momentarily. After a second’s pause, the animals’ screaming started up at an even higher volume than before. That probably has something to do