They grounded just under the start of the hedge, got out, hiked the branches aside and began searching uphill.
Little Easter was following Van Damm, carrying her shotgun at high port, when she saw a leg move under the Orange-Berry bush.
The roar of her shotgun brought the men around with weapons pointed.
"It's okay," Easter chirped, smiling. "I got 'im in the head."
Van Damm checked the body and pulled it out to the open. "We owe you one, little sister," he said. "Hmm, if this one got through the hedge, we can assume others did, too."
Easter took a look at the man she had killed, bit her lip, then hurried into the bush. The sounds of her stomach emptying came back to them.
Brodski resolutely turned away. "How many do you think could have made it through?" he asked.
"We have to assume that Jomo did, since we have not found his body."
"That's what I like about you, Owen; you're such an optimist."
Jomo had stopped for a moment as nature called him, when he heard the shotgun blast below. He dived for cover beneath the hedge, not waiting to zip his pants, and peered back toward the shore.
Bellow him he saw a hunting-party searching the forest-belt, beating their way slowly southward. Below them, beyond the hedge, the zodiac was nosed into shore.
Jomo smiled hugely. The answer to all his troubles gleamed black on the beach: the famous Black Bitch! It couldn't be difficult to run, and it was the fastest boat on Haven. He checked his .44 pistol and started back down the slope.
Brodski and Van Damm had spread out keeping Easter in the line between them, and were working their way through the forest, each hoping to catch Jomo alone. They had plans for him.
Makhno, seeing them go, decided to leave the search in their hands and head uphill. It was time to check in with Jane and get the latest report.
"We didn't get off free," Jane grimly informed him. "They shot back, not just with the stunners. Muda's dead, and who's going to tell her son? Ahnli got a little too enthusiastic, showed herself, and caught a bad one high in the chest. She probably won't make it. Tall Lou got clipped in the leg; she says it isn't bad, but knowing her, it'll probably leave her lame."
Makhno ground his teeth; he'd liked Muda. ". . . Hell, we didn't expect to win scot-free. Cheap at the price, I guess . . . if that's all there's going to be . . . ."
"What do you mean, 'if'?"
"We still haven't found Jomo. If he gets back to Docktown hell raise another army, and he won't make the same mistakes. I don't know if we could stop him a second time."
"Don't worry, Leo. Even if the worst happens he'll need a boat to get home. We could still hunt him down with the Bitch."
"The Bitch . . ." Makhno jerked upright in sudden alarm. "Nobody's guarding her! I left her on the beach-" With that, be turned and ran back downhill.
"I'm coming, Leo!" Jane shouted after him through the radio. "Just let me tell the others first." She picked up her shotgun.
Makhno didn't hear; he was too busy racing for the anchorage.
When Van Damm heard the call he had been working his way along the hedge, looking for tracks. He hadn't found any, but he'd had hopes.
Brodski had made good progress upstream, and was looking over toward the stretch of beach when he got the call.
"Time to go back, girl, for all of us." Brodski stopped a moment and considered. "Let's get under the hedge and down the beach."
"Why, Mister Brodski?"
"I'll have a clear shot at him when he comes down to the landing-point. I might put a hole in the Bitch but well stop Jomo."
Makhno dived under the lower thorn-hedge and came rolling out on the narrow beach. He got up and ran northward along the shore, heading for the Bitch.
"Goddammit, Makhno," Brodski's voice crackled from the radio. "Get out of my line-of-sight!"
Having no idea where Brodski was, Makhno ran on. There was nobody near the Black Bitch when he came pounding up to it. Panting with relief, he started to shove off. The best way to keep the Bitch out of any surviving Simba's hands was to take her out into deep water and keep her moving.
Then the ZAP of a stunner crackled out of the forest. Makhno fell sprawling in the bottom of the raft.
Jomo grinned down at the raft on the beach, regretting only that the stunner wouldn't kill, that he wasn't accurate at that range with the .44, and that interfering fool hadn't fallen into the water to be eaten. Well, he'd correct that. Meanwhile, best wait and see if anybody came. He could afford to wait, for a prize like this.
He grinned again, pulled a handful of crumpled leaves out of his pocket. With these for proof, he could recruit an army a half thousand strong out of Docktown.
Van Damm heard the ZAP ahead and below him, and dropped to a crouch. He waited a moment, then slipped forward, quiet in the thick forest, not nearly fast enough to suit him. So there was a Simba left in the wood-belt, maybe Jomo. Now was he moving or holed up somewhere? There was no further sound . . . .
Damn, but this was going to take time.
Brodski crouched behind a boulder on the beach, held his aim on the top of the Black Bitch. Where the hell was that damned Simba? When would he break cover?
Mary Harp squatted beside him, trying to match her shotgun's aim to his rifle, making no sound. Good girl, that. "Don't fire unless I miss," he whispered. Mary nodded, waiting.
So much for her, and Makhno-and Van Damm was somewhere uphill, coming down through the woods. Dammit, where was Easter?
He heard the sound of light but clumsy footsteps sneaking away through the woods beyond the hedge, heading toward the point.
Brodski swore under his breath. The girl's tactical sense was good, but she was making too damned much noise. Whoever it was had to hear her coming, and what then?
Jomo heard the approaching footsteps below, and smiled. So, Makhno did have a backup, one of the women, no doubt. This part would be enjoyable.
He waited until he could hear the steps directly downhill from him, then fired. A thump and a sound of crackling brush answered him. Got her.
Jomo slipped out of hiding and made his way downhill. A moment's searching found the girl sprawled in a tangle of eggtree fronds.
Why, surprise: she was white, a blonde in fact, quite young and good-looking. She'd make an excellent incentive for recruiting fresh troops, worth dragging along on the trip downriver. Jomo scooped up the limp body, settled the girl on his shoulder and continued on down the slope.
Van Damm heard the footsteps in the forest below him, and crept forward with care. There: the target came into sight ahead. It looked like Jomo, all right-and, dammit, he was carrying one of the girls on his shoulder. No clear shot, not at this range, not that he could guarantee to take Jomo without hitting the girl; nothing to do but follow, hoping to get closer.
And who was that now, flitting down the slope behind him? Whoever it was knew how to move both fast and quietly in this forest . . . . Flaming hells, it was Jane!
Jomo reached the riverside greenthorn hedge and paused a moment to wonder how he was going to do this. The hedge was thick, and he'd have to lift the branches. Best to put the girl down, drag her through behind him. He dumped her on the ground and bent over to shove his stunner under the hedge.
Then he heard running footsteps behind him. Before he could yank his stunner out of the hedge and whip it around, a booted foot caught him square in the rump and kicked him head-first into the greenthorn hedge.
Jomo flailed wildly in the thorns, trying to ignore the deep scratches. The stunner was snagged in the branches below; he abandoned it to scrabble for his pistol.