I'm soooo sorry I hadn't updated this story until now, but I never had the inspiration to write the next part. But my muse seems to be back now. I wonder how long it will stay before it runs off again... Anyway, at long last, here's the next chapter!

Lake Manyara Hotel
Friday, 31st May, 11.45 a.m.

Jim slowly opened his eyes and saw that the room was still empty. Blair and Simon had gone back to the edge of the forest where they had found Jim, looking for clues. The previous two days they had stayed with their sick friend, but today, Jim had managed to persuade them to continue the search for Daryl. He had assured his friends that he was alright, considering the circumstances.

When Dr. Bennett had come by the evening before, he had said he was surprised that Jim was doing so good. His body was getting rid of the medicine faster than he expected and he would be alright in a couple of days. The Tylenol had helped relieve his headache and lowered his fever, making him feel a bit human again.

He was just about to drop off to sleep again, when he heard excited voices outside. He dialed up his hearing. At first he heard some children talk in Swahili, but then the guide was talking to someone.

"These children were following the two policemen, when they saw people from another village circle around them and capture them. I assume they were attacked by the same people that killed Masemi and kidnapped the boy. I will go to the place the children saw them last. Do you think I should tell the other man?"

"No," he heard Dr. Bennett's voice say. "He won't be able to do anything for a couple of days, and I don't want him worrying right now. It'll only slow his recovery. It's best to put it off for as long as we can, so he can help search when he's fully recovered."

No way I'm gonna wait. I'm getting out of here. Jim slowly got out of bed, trying not to let the room start spinning again. He grabbed his backpack, put a couple of strips of Tylenol in it, along with a few water bottles, spare clips and his jacket. He attached his gun and holster on his belt and quietly left his room. Luckily he didn't encounter many people on his way out, and soon he was on his way, easily following the children's chatter while they showed Halika where they last saw his two friends. His ankle was still a bit tender and stiff, but with the dials lowered a bit, he could manage.

Friday, 31st May, 12.15 a.m.

He felt he couldn't keep up with Halika and the kids. His vision was starting to blur, his ankle was sore and his headache had come back with a vengeance. The voices he was following were growing fainter by the minute. Jim strained to try and find them again, but pulled back. This was no time for a zone-out.

He sat down for a while, memorized the direction the others had gone and waited until the headache subsided a bit.

Half an hour later, Jim slowly got up again and went in the direction where he had last heard Halika and the village children. After a while he reached a small clearing and immediately noticed the marks on the ground. There had been a fight here. The grass was flattened and he found small traces of blood here and there. He started to stand up, when he saw something up ahead. He lowered down to his knees and saw it: something metallic, embedded in a tree, was reflecting the light. He moved over to the tree and found what he had feared. A bullet. With blood. He instinctively knew it wasn't Blair's blood, but it could've been Simon's.

Worry increasing faster every second, Jim looked around for tracks leading away from the clearing. Within minutes, he found what he was looking for. Shoe- and footprints leading away, and a few broken branches. When he looked closer, Jim could see that one pair of shoeprints seemed to belong to a limping man: the left print was clear, but the right print showed a lighter indentation, from someone walking on his toes. Occasionally he found a drop of blood.

Jim let out a small sigh of relief. If Simon was shot – which was now very likely, as he had found only two sets of shoeprints and the rest of them were all barefoot – then it hadn't struck a bone, or Simon wouldn't be walking. On top of that, the wound was probably already bandaged, as there wasn't much blood on the trail. Jim was grateful. It could've been worse. Much worse.

Putting his senses back on full alert, he followed the tracks. He had to sit down and rest a couple of times to let the pain in his ankle and his head subside, before continuing his pursuit.

He smelled it before he could hear it. And he could hear it before he could see it. The smell of death, of decay. The sounds of tortured animals, some screaming in severe agony, others making only small noises as they were minutes away from dying. When Jim reached the top of the small incline he was climbing, what he smelled, heard and finally also saw, broke his heart in two.

Ahead of him, he saw a wall. For several miles it reached, and it was full of thorns. Every 100 feet, there was a gap in the wall. But the gaps weren't empty. In most of the gaps, there were animals. Some small, some tall. Some dead, others still alive.

Jim approached one of the gaps. In it were a Thompson's Gazelle and her fawn, both caught in separate snares. He could see that the mother had a deep cut from the noose and was bleeding badly. The little one was still okay. Though it also had a noose around its neck, it apparently hadn't struggled much.

Jim reached down to free the little thing. It immediately drew back, tightening the noose, afraid of the large creature in front of him.

"Don't worry, little one," said Jim in a soft tone. "I'm only going to help you." He once again reached for the frightened animal.

The gazelle let Jim pull it back a bit and cut the noose with his knife. Once it was free, it bounded away, but halted after a short while. Why wasn't its mother coming?

Jim focussed his attention on the mother. The noose was so tight, that it imbedded itself in the neck on all sides. There was no way to cut it off. Jim cut the noose loose from the wall, so at least the mother could lie down. He had no doubt that the gazelle wouldn't survive.

He watched as the mother knelt down to the ground, the little one making its way toward her. They touched each other's noses, before the mother laid her head down one final time. With what sounded like a cry of grief to Jim, the young gazelle pushed its mother on her side, so it could get his last drink.

Jim left the two in peace and went down the wall, to see if he could help some more animals. His heart sank as he heard only few heartbeats, few signs of life. Most of the traps were filled with dead animals. He stood in front of a tall giraffe, body on the ground, but head held high by the noose. He could still feel some warmth from the animal, indicating it hadn't been dead for very long. As he started to move on, he noticed something strange about the animal, but he couldn't figure out what. Then it struck him: the giraffe had no tail. It had been cut off and judging by the blood on the ground and the wound, it had been done while it was still alive. He looked around and saw more animals that were missing 'valuable' items. Some of them were still alive.

Jim could feel his blood starting to boil, his anger starting to rise even further. The men who did this would certainly pay. They would pay for what they did to his friends, and they would pay twice over for what they did to the animals on this planet. He moved on to free the animals still alive. Most were in too bad a shape to live through the coming night.

He moved back toward the trail, determined to find the people responsible for this horror. When he passed the gazelles, he noticed the little one lying snugly next to its mother.

A noise further up ahead caught his attention. Before long, he saw that an enormous lion was trapped in one of the snares. It hadn't been in there for long, but the trashing around had caused the snare to cut deep into the beast's neck. Jim noticed it was weakening each time it tried to pull free. He felt sympathy for the king of beasts. He knew he couldn't set it free. It would be to dangerous for himself, and for the little gazelle. Jim also remembered the tales about injured lions attacking people. An injured lion can't chase normal prey. Humans were much easier to overtake. That is why it's dangerous to have an injured lion so near to villages.

But Jim couldn't just leave the beast here to suffer a slow, agonising death. He pulled an empty water bottle from his bag and put it over the nuzzle of his gun. He hoped this would silence the shot a bit, so he wouldn't be heard. He also hoped the bullet would go through the thick skull, and not bounce off. It would agonise the lion only more, while he wanted to put the beast out of its misery and agony.

Jim stood up and raised his gun. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and prayed for forgiveness. He then opened his eyes and pulled the trigger. Half with regret, half with relief, he saw the bullet penetrate the skull of the lion. It fell down to the ground with one, last, half-hearted roar.

Shocked by his own action, Jim just stood and stared as the lion took its last breaths. He didn't hear the small tapping, didn't notice anyone approaching. Until he felt something against his leg. He looked down and saw the little gazelle. He knelt down and petted the thing on its head.

"You have to get away from here. Find some of your family. I can't help you anymore." Jim said softly. The gazelle looked up at him with big eyes. "No, don't give me those puppy dog eyes. Blair does that all the time, too."

He stood up and started up the trail again, heading to where hopefully his Guide and Captain were. This time he did hear the tapping. The little thing was following him. He picked it up and placed it in the hollowed out trunk of a nearby baobab tree.

"I'm sorry, but I have to do this. It's too dangerous for you to follow me. I will come back and take you somewhere safe, but first I have to find my friends and the people who did all this."

The gazelle looked at him again. Jim cocked his head a bit. Then the gazelle seemed to comply with Jim's decision. It lay down in the soft bedding of the tree.

Jim checked his exact surroundings to make sure he could find the little creature again on his way back, then he moved on.

15.12 p.m.

He had been walking for forty-five minutes before he heard sounds of a village nearby. Jim focused his hearing in the direction the sounds came from, but heard only people speaking Swahili. Keeping his hearing dialed up for signs of his friends, he carefully made his way to the village.

Soon he reached the end of the forest. The village was right next to the forest. He sat down behind a tree and once more tried to find out if his friends where there. First he listened to heartbeats. He counted 21 heartbeats, until he finally found the one he was looking for: the heartbeat of his Guide, beating slowly and steadily. Jim released the breath he had subconsciously been holding. At least his Guide was alright. Then he heard Blair mumbling something he couldn't make out. He's probably gagged, Jim thought.

"What is it, little man," a voice Jim identified as Minscot's said. "Don't count on getting out of here alive. You and your friends know too much. When the other comes to rescue you, we will capture him too, then you can all die together. How does that sound?"

Jim heard Blair mumble something through the gag angrily.

"What's that? You can say it if you want." Jim could hear Minscot getting up and moving toward Blair, apparently removing the gag.

"You filthy murderer! You kill all those beast, just so that some rich lady can walk around with a nice fur coat, or swat flies with a giraffe's tail. You are the lowest being on the face of the planet. Even lower than flies that are victim of the animal tails you and your friends sell!"

"Ha, I'm way above every animal. Way above you too. Here, I'll prove it to you!"

When Jim heard a rifle getting locked and loaded, he wasted no time and charged into the village.

TO BE CONTINUED...

A/N:

Oooh, a cliffhanger!! grins I'm so evil :) What will happen to the Cascadians? Will they survive? Will they leave the continent in once piece? You tell me, because I have no clue at all :)

I hope for your sakes that I'll be able to write the next chapter soon, because this cliffhanger is just cruel.

Can you imagine the coincidences? While I was writing the part about the two gazelles, I was listening to "The Sacred Bird" of Miss Saigon, in which Kim sacrifices her life for that of her son, Tam. And while I was writing the part about the trapped lion, the song "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" came up. And to top it all off, I heard "We Are the World" as I finished up the part about the poachers' traps. Seems pretty fitting music for this chapter, doesn't it?

To my reviewers:

First of all: Thank you sooo much for your reviews!

I wanted my first fic to be a nice long fic, with all the extras. And yes, I am Dutch :) But that wasn't the only reason they flew to Schiphol first, because it really was the fastest flight from Seattle to Tanzania, with the least stopovers. I don't know why I put the Dutch movie in, but I guess I just felt I had to make the chapter a bit larger before moving on to the next :)

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. We'll get to 'some' action in the next chapter. So review please, because that's what keeps my muse from running away!