2
Butswana – 2004 – 18 Days Earlier
"The Kalahari sucks" was Xander Harris's inner mantra after eight and a half months of searching through the scrubby plains and forests along the Nossob River in the Kgalagadi region of the Kalahari Desert for the caves that Buffy had first seen in her sojourn to the time of the "primitive" as her captors had called the first Slayer. Battle hardened though he'd become after seven years of fighting evil on the mouth of hell itself, 6 weeks into living off of cooked beetles and rainwater had the ex-carpenter longing for Taco-Bell and Big Gulps despite the importance of his mission. Since the spell that Willow had cast last May had imbued so many young women with super-powers overnight, the Council of Watchers had felt it important that the source of the original legacy be protected and discovered. Some surviving members of the original Council had objected to Xander's nomination for the job of discovering the origin of such a powerful site due to his lack of formal training, but after Buffy herself had intervened on his behalf, threatening several of the elder members with no small injuries if they were to counter her wishes, he'd been unanimously approved. Giles, Willow and Buffy had wordlessly understood his need for a fresh start and a need to feel useful after Anya's death, so within days of the subject broaching at the first meeting of the new Watchers Council he'd found himself on a plane out of San Francisco to Windhoek in Namibia, alone with his grief and new determination.
"Hold up," Xander says quietly, shaking off his thoughts and raising a hand while his good eye surveys the river bank attentively. Along the low bluffs he'd regularly observed many different types of wildlife stooped over the slow moving muddy river to drink or hunt. You could usually tell when a large animal was close by due to the decrease in noise from the smaller fauna in the area, but never had the cacophonous sound of insects and birds dropped off as sharply as it had now. His guide Oujay nods and digs his paddle deep into the muddy water, blade flush to the swirling current and bringing their small outrigger canoe to a sharp stop. With an expert stroke the small guide drives the balsa wood boat toward shore and its keel snuggles into the muddy bank as Xander continues to survey the horizon. Both Oujay and Xander have been down the river several times in the past few months but immediately following the rainy season, new tributaries had opened up allowing them life lines to explore deeper into the zone toward the lost supposedly cursed area that the locals called 'Al Hatari Bustani' or 'The Dead Garden'.
Xander leaps from the canoe into the ankle deep water and drags it up higher onto the bank as Oujay unlashes two rifles from the hull and then tosses one to Xander who nearly fumbles it into the mud before the rifle butt crashes into his big toe. Xander hops around cursing under his breath as Oujay grins and gets out of the canoe, slinging his own rifle over his shoulder. "Perhaps I should do the shooting Bwana Harris?" Xander curses again and then returns the grin sheepishly. Xander has experimented early in their acquaintance with several of Oujay's weapons, most notably his boomerang. Xander has tried mightily to master it but at the end of several days of missed targets and swearing, he'd finally thrown his own carved attempt at the ancient weapon into the river in disgust.
"What do you guys call a boomerang that doesn't work Oujay?" He'd finally vented in camp one night.
"A stick Bwana,"Oujay had replied without even looking up. Xander had vowed to avoid dumb questions ever since.
"Probably a good call Oujay." The one-eyed man surveys the grassy crest of the bank and then nods at his guide. Oujay steps cat-like over the mud and shale of the bank, hardly leaving footprints and Xander follows, his heavy boots making low sucking noises the mud as the two ascend the bank. Above the crest are a deep grove of African Mangosteen trees and the two men set off toward them. The sunlight is soon dappled on the forest floor as they pass through the dense flora and Xander starts violently as a gaggle of green pigeons erupt from the bows above them, chirping irritably at being disturbed. Xander notices Oujay grinning back at him again and shrugs angrily. "What? It always seems that every damn patch of forest we wander through has some toothy, slithery, poisonous, man-killing agenda so excuse me for being a little twitchy okay?"
"You say so Bwana," Oujay replies, still grinning before turning his attention back to the deepening woods ahead of them. The two make their way slowly through the wood for a little over thrity minutes, Xander beginning to regret more and more his decision to leave the river in the first place, but as Oujay had pointed out several times on earlier treks through jungle and woods, if the place they are looking for is secret then its obviously not right next to the river bank with arrows and signs was it?
"Stupid logic," Xander mutters sweating profusely in the stifling heat of the forest, and pushes aside some branches. Using his free hand he swats at the air in a futile effort to fend off a swarm of gnats that had descended on them a few minutes earlier. He flails a little more violently at the nasty little biting creatures and takes a step to the side when he feels his legs shoot out from under him and with a scream he is rocketing down a steep embankment that had been hidden from them by the dense foliage. "Shhhhiiiiiiit!" he screams futilely as his body crashes down through the underbrush violently, coming to a halt with bone-rattling force against a fallen tree at the bottom. Cursing feebly, he gets to his feet, grimacing at the pain in his left leg where he had hit the tree. He surveys the area in front of him which is vastly different from the dense forest he had just left. The valley he finds himself in is mostly rock and sand with stubby plants growing through the shale and gravel. Ahead about two kilometers are a series of low hills, dotted with a few Joshua trees and massive boulders. After a moment he hears rustling above him and looks back to see Oujay picking his way carefully down the steep slope he's just tumbled down.
"B'shwala," the guide mutters as he arrives at the bottom of the slope and surveys the hills ahead. "These are not on the maps." He takes off his rucksack and opens the straps, rooting inside. He pulls out a long chart tube and opens the lid, shaking the map out and then kneels and unrolls in on the ground. Xander squats beside him to take a look. "See here Bwana Harris," Oujay traces the length of the river with his finger and the tributary they had followed and finally to an area of dense forest on the north bank. "This is where we came to shore. Now see here," He traces his finger a few kilometers north and along the route they had entered the wood. "All through here is heavy forest, a few clearings and some waterholes for the Hunti, the buffalo." He then traces his finger slightly west and indicates a dark green patch. "All this is supposed to be jungle, dense forest."
Xander gives him a puzzled look. "You must be looking at the wrong place Oujay." The carpenter looks around and sweeps his arm gesturing across the shale and dirt plain leading to the hills. "The whole area is barren," Xander pauses suddenly, a thought taking hold and when he looks back at the guide he sees Oujay grinning at him excitedly.
"Han Bwana," the guide is nodding vigorously, "Barren. Dead. What is supposed to be a lush garden is dead."
"The Al Hatari Bustani," Xander breathes, feeling his own excitement start to rise in his chest despite the inhospitableness of the land ahead of them. "Come on," Xander gets to his feet quickly, the pain in his leg forgotten and sets out at a quick pace across the plain toward the low hills ahead. Oujay catches up with him and puts a hand on his shoulder. Xander turns to see the guide frowning.
"What Oujay? This could be it! We should hurry up so we can check it out and get back to the river before dark."
"Han Bwana Harris, but wait one moment." Oujay opens his rucksack again and takes out a pair of binoculars. He raises them to his eyes and begins scanning the hills ahead. "Unafirwa," Oujay mutters and Xander raises an eyebrow. He'd been in Africa long enough to recognize the filthy phrase and wonders with a growing sense of uneasiness what had caused his normally well-spoken friend to use it. The guide lowers the binoculars and hands them to Xander without taking his eyes off the spot he'd surveyed. "Look there," he gestures to the largest of the hills and Xander holds the binoculars up to his eyes. He surveys the rocky slope and then as he lowers the field glasses to look toward the hill's base it feels like an icy hand closes over his chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.
Two stone figures are seated near what looks like the mouth of a cavern in the hillside. Both look like squatting demons, with long snakelike hair falling over their shoulders and long triangular faces with stone tongues lolling from a mouth full of carved fangs. Around each of their necks are what look like garlands of human skulls. Xander tears his eyes from the binoculars and turns to see his guide looking back at him with a grim expression. Oujay's dark eyes are normally cheerful and lively but now they look hard and inscrutable.
"I think we should not go any farther today Bwana Harris." Almost as if it had been planned a carrion bird screeches in the distance, its blood-curdling cry echoing amongst the shale and stone of the plain like distant banshees. Xander feels a chill go up his spine despite the one-hundred degree plus heat of the day. He turns back to look at the hill and notices how the low sun in the sky casts ominous shadows that stretch down from the hills and the larger stones towards them like dark fingers reaching across the plain.
This is wear dark magic was born, Xander thinks to himself. Here, or somewhere very close, this is where they did it. This is where they made her. The first Slayer. Again, the carpenter shivers and even though he knows its almost certainly his own heartbeat in his ears, he could swear he hears a faint rhythmic throbbing of ritualistic drums; low and menacing, like the footsteps of some massive beast approaching. He gives his head a shake and chastises himself mentally in his grown-up voice. Dammit, you've been in more terrifying places then this. Quit acting like a kid at a campfire after the last ghost-story. But then there's the other voice. The younger voice that knows the stories are real, the voice that knows about the boogey-man and the monsters under the bed. Xander trusted this voice and it was telling him quite plainly that he was on the rim of something very old and very malignant; a cancer of evil that had infected this place millennia ago and never left. Get out, this voice was telling him. Get the fuck out and paddle your ass home as fast as you can. A second spine-chilling cry from the distant vulture decided it.
"Right. Oujay, let's get headed out of here fast." Xander turns to look back at his guide and the relief in Oujay's face is almost comical. "I should probably report what we found before we try and approach it anyhow. There's probably stuff that we need to know before getting any closer anyhow." The guide nods vehement agreement and Oujay consults his map again.
"See here Bwana, if we skirt along here we can hit the river again without having to climb that hill you fell down."
"Good," Xander grunts. In the temporary excitement of finding what they'd been looking for all these months he forgotten about the pain in his leg from his fall. It was back now though, low and throbbing, and the thought of trying to bushwhack his way back up the steep embankment on a game leg wasn't one he'd been relishing. Just a few kilometers along the ridge and then back up the trail a few more and we're at the river by sundown, he thinks to himself. Their motor launch was waiting for them where the tributary branched off from the main river and in a few hours they'd be in the main cabin having a few beers and he could get on the satellite radio and let Giles know what they'd found. Just the thought of it was cheering him up already. "Okay Oujay, let's bounce.
The guide turned to look at him and Xander screamed in terror and stepped back sharply, almost falling as his heel caught on a large stone. Oujay's face was shining with sweat and his eyes were sunken and corpse-like. His normally dark brown skin was stretched and grey looking and a long tongue whipped out of his mouth like a serpent. "This place is not for you," a low and slithering voice said from the guide's mouth that wasn't anything like Oujay's normal voice. "This is a place of the dead. We do not suffer the living to come here."
"What the fuck?" Xander took another step back, his voice shrill and shaky.
"Go now and do not return." Suddenly a massive gust of wind swept the plain, throwing torrents of biting grit and dust into the air around them. The sky seemed to darken and Xander threw his arm up over his face to keep it from his good eye. A low shriek pierced the air suddenly and then the howls of the wind died out and he shakily lowered his arm and opened his eye to see Oujay huddled on the ground in front if him, his hands covering his face and his body shuddering convulsively.
"Oujay," Xander takes a takes a tentative step forward and touches the guide on the shoulder. Oujay jerks slightly away from his touch but after a moment the shudders seem to subside and he gets shakily to his feet. The two men look at each other wordlessly for a moment and then slowly start heading down along the line of the embankment, their pace increasing with each step so that after a moment they are making their way back to the river at a dead run.