Chapter 2: Rainforest Echoes

The moment Elder Kofi finished speaking, a low throb of drumming seeped in from the edge of the rainforest. It came one beat after another, heavy and relentless, like a leviathan rolling over in the deep earth. Gabriel gripped the Bronze Drum, his fingertips pressed against the skin. A surge of heat rushed in from his palms, and the rhythm vibrated through his chest cavity. He closed his eyes, letting his awareness spread like water over the tree roots, threading through the vines, until it brushed against distant firelight. Three human silhouettes huddled near the flames, bending over, burying something in the dirt.

He opened his eyes. "They're burying electric stakes. Heading toward the habitat of the black rhino herd."

Amina skimmed her recording device at high speed, her brow furrowing tight. "Signal’s chaotic. It’s grid pulses. They want to electrocute the entire herd of black rhinos. We don’t have much time."

"I’ll go in." Gabriel stood up and tied the drum to his waist.

"You alone?" Amina stepped in front of him, blocking his path. "They have guns. They have electricity."

Elder Kofi slowly raised his head, his gaze as still as a lake. "The rain remembers every seed. Let him go. His path is not one we can pave for him."

Gabriel nodded, turned, and vanished into the rainforest. The vines were slick with moisture, and the rotting leaves covered his ankles, forcing him to slow his pace. The drumming echoed lightly inside his body, like a second heart. He sensed the swift passage of a raptor overhead, the huddled antelopes below, their hearts pounding with panic. He navigated around traps, stepped on grass roots, and dodged spring-loaded snares. A cheetah lay dormant in a tree, its breathing steady, pupils slit. Its rhythm became his landmark. He moved like a gust of wind, leaving no sound behind.

As night fell, the poachers lit a campfire. In the orange glow, the three of them hauled out iron cages and long rifles, setting up a massive beast trap. True to form, the herd of black rhinos was driven by the electric stakes, moving toward the trap. A young rhino caught the metallic scent, hesitated for a moment, then stepped into the mud. *Click.* An iron hook bit into its leg. It thrashed and bellowed, dyeing the mud with blood, while the poachers raised their guns to aim.

Gabriel gripped his drum and tapped it lightly three times. The sound was low, like a heartbeat from the underworld, shaking the very air. The poachers’ hands froze. Their hearts skipped a beat, their rifle muzzles wavered, and a bullet grazed the rhino’s back before burying itself in a tree trunk. Startled, the black rhino dragged the iron hook and bolted into the dense forest. The poachers swore and cursed, swinging flashlights to sweep the woods. The firelight flickered as human shadows closed in.

Gabriel held his breath, his drumming turning rapid and sharp, like a downpour. A herd of wild boars, spooked, burst from the underbrush. They charged across the camp, knocking over the fire and sending the iron cage crashing to the ground. The three poachers were scattered by the stampede. Seizing the chance, Gabriel slid to the rhino’s side, pulled out his knife, and slashed the iron hook free. He fished a packet of herbs from his bag, chewed them up, and applied the paste to the wound. The black rhino breathed in ragged gasps, its eyelids fluttering. He hummed a low, ancient melody. The drumming slowed, gentle as a mother lulling a child to sleep. The rhino gradually calmed down, lowering its head to rest against his palm.

The poachers regrouped, approaching with guns raised. The sound of their curses grew louder. Gabriel tightened his grip on the drum, sensing the rhythm of their heartbeats: one was agitated, one was cautious, one was terrified. He anticipated their footfalls, weaving through the vines, ducking left and right as bullets whizzed past his ears. He lured them deliberately toward a low-lying area where the ground grew softer. He vaulted onto a thick tree root and looked back. The three men were sinking into the marsh. They struggled deeper into the muck, the mud rising to their thighs, their rifles too heavy to drag.

The black rhino slowly stood up, shaking its head. The bleeding had stopped. It kept pace with Gabriel, moving like a small, rolling mountain. When the morning light filtered through the rainforest canopy, they emerged at the forest edge. Amina rushed to meet them, her recorder screen flickering. The brainwave patterns were stable, the lines smooth, synchronizing with Gabriel’s breathing into a single wave. Elder Kofi stood beneath a tree, his gaze deep and long.

Amina spoke in a low voice. "His drumming is in the same frequency as the rhino. It’s an ecological harmony, not control."

"The voice of the ancestors never forces anyone," Elder Kofi said.

Gabriel crouched down, gently stroking the scarred front leg of the rhino. The black beast gave a low moo, turned, and walked into the grasslands, disappearing into the morning mist.

Amina closed her notebook. "You saved it, but the electric grid is still active. The poachers will come back."

"So I need to find the people behind them," Gabriel said.

At that moment, footsteps came from the direction of the market. Mbare stepped out of the shadows, his smile enigmatic, twirling a string of animal teeth in his hand. "Gabriel, old friend. You’ve got some luck. Hunting such a big black rhino."

Gabriel’s gaze turned ice-cold. "It’s free now. I don’t hunt it."

Mbare lowered his voice, leaning in. "Don’t rush to refuse. Rhino horn is highly valuable on the Black Market. I can offer you a good price, more than you’d make hunting for a year. And..." He paused, narrowing his eyes. "Do you know who stands behind them? The convoys at the Mine Site enter the mountains every night. They aren’t carrying ore."

Gabriel gripped the Bronze Drum, his fingertips turning white, his expression resolute. "I don’t care who is behind you. As long as there is a drumbeat, the rainforest will not fall silent."

Mbare’s smile froze. He took half a step back, his eyes darting, then he turned and vanished into the shadows of the market. The morning wind blew through the rainforest, the drumbeat echoing in the mist, sounding like a promise, and also a declaration.

The morning mist hadn't lifted yet. Gabriel followed the riverbank downstream. New tire tracks were pressed into the mud, wide tires with deep marks, bearing a load of at least three tons. He crouched down, pinching some of the soil. Oil seeped through the rainforest humus layer. It was diesel.

Amina caught up and lowered her voice. "They enter the mountain at night, without lights. Just winches."

Gabriel nodded, untied the drum straps, and pressed the Bronze Drum close to the ground. The skin vibrated lightly. The echo traveled through the soil layer and struck a distant rock wall. He closed his eyes, counting the interval between echoes. Three point seven seconds. A deep shaft. A hollow cavity. Like a mine tunnel.

"The Mine Site is underneath the rock layer," he said. "The poachers go in and out of the tunnels. The rhino horns go down the water route. The convoys are just cover."

Amina opened her notebook and sketched the course of the underground river. "I checked the old maps. There’s an abandoned riverbed beneath the Mine Site that connects to the downstream dock. If they transfer goods there, the horns never go through the market. They go straight onto the boats."

Gabriel stood up, his gaze sweeping toward the depths of the forest. "So Mbare is just a dealer. The real players are in the Mine Site."

The two of them advanced along the direction of the underground river. The forest grew darker. Vines hung down to the ground, and the air was thick with the smell of rust and sulfur. The drumbeat pulsed lightly against his chest. Gabriel slowed his pace, sensing the pulse of the underground. Inside the tunnels, there were rhythmic heavy thuds. Mechanical. Not a heartbeat.

The tree canopy ahead tore open, revealing barbed wire. It was rusty but strung tightly. Old traps hung on the wire, animal traps still caked with dried blood. Gabriel stopped in front of the fence. The drumbeat pointed downward. There was a buzzing sound beneath the soil layer. Low frequency. Continuous. Like a generator.

"They’ve built an underground workshop," he said. "Not a temporary camp. A permanent base."

Amina frowned. "If there’s a fixed power grid here, there should be a supply line nearby. Check the water. Check the food. Check the medical supplies."

Gabriel nodded and turned to walk around it. Half a mile away, by a creek valley, there was a clearing stacked with empty oil barrels, moldy woven bags, and a blackened iron pot. Rice grains remained on the bottom of the pot, still warm. Someone had cooked two hours ago.

He put down the drum, crouched, and picked up some of the scattered rice. He rubbed the grains between his fingers. They were plump, white rice. Not the rough local variety. Amina took it and sniffed. "Refined. The food is transported from outside. It means the Mine Site doesn’t lack supplies. Or manpower."

Gabriel stood up, his gaze landing on a dark shadow on the opposite bank of the creek. It was a half-buried wooden stake, covered in moss on the surface, but the soil at its base had been freshly turned. He walked over, parting the leaf layer, and revealed an iron box. The lock was rusted, but it had been opened. There were fresh scratches on the lock tongue.

He pried open the box lid. Inside were packaging straps, waterproof tarp, and an empty iron cage. The cage door was welded shut, and a black shard was stuck in the corner—rhino horn residue.

Amina drew a sharp breath. "They’re keeping rhinos in captivity."

Gabriel gripped the drum, his fingers trembling slightly. "Not captivity. Live harvesting."

He looked up toward the Mine Site. The morning mist began to clear. A corner of a corrugated metal roof peeked out from behind the rock face, covered in rust but with a square outline. That was the Mine Site ventilation shaft. The drumbeat rumbled low in his chest, like a warning.

"Tonight," he said. "I’m going in."

Amina grabbed his wrist. "The power grid isn’t cut. You can’t get in."

Gabriel let go of the drum, took a copper tube from his waist, pulled it out, and extended it. It was a slender probe. He crouched low and inserted the probe along the base of the barbed wire into the soil, sliding it close to the ground. The drumbeat resonated on the needle’s tip, catching the electrical pulses.

"The grid is only on the surface," he said. "The underground is empty."

He dug a narrow trench along the base of the fence, just wide enough for one person to pass sideways. Amina stayed at the end of the trench to keep watch. Gabriel slipped under, the pungent smell of mud hitting him, the light dim. He moved along the wall, the drumbeat navigating him.

At the end of the tunnel, an iron door was ajar. Warm yellow light leaked through the gap. Gabriel tilted his head. Inside, people were talking. A hoarse voice said, "...Once the rhino horns are sold, the money is clean. The Mine Site keeps digging. No one checks."

Another voice replied, "That guy Mbare, his mouth is loose. We should replace him sooner rather than later."

Gabriel gripped the drum, pressing his fingertips against the skin, silently dampening the resonance. He retreated, withdrawing along his original path, reaching the end of the trench just as the sky was brightening.

Amina saw him emerge and exhaled in relief. "What did you find?"

Gabriel brushed the mud off his pant leg. "They are miners. They are also poachers. Rhino horns for cash, cash to launder through the mine. The Mine Site is the shell."

Amina closed her notebook. "So Mbare is just a runner. The real people are in the Mine Site."

Gabriel nodded, turning to gaze into the depths of the rainforest. "They want the rhino horns. I will cut off their supply line."

He raised his hand, lifted the Bronze Drum, facing the skin east, and struck it lightly. The sound pierced the morning mist, glided over the canopy, and rippled into the depths of the rainforest. Echoes came back from the woods, layer upon layer, as if countless drums were answering.

Amina looked at him. "You’re calling them?"

"No," Gabriel said. "I’m telling them someone is coming."

The drumbeat faded, and the rainforest returned to silence. A moment later, hurried footsteps came from the direction of the market. Mbare’s figure appeared at the end of the path, his eyes darting. He had a new string of silver chain in his hand, with half a rhino horn attached.

He stopped, forcing a smile. "Gabriel, I changed my mind. Don’t rush to sell that rhino horn. I’ll put up collateral for you. You hold it first, and we’ll work it out later."

Gabriel looked at him, his gaze like iron. "Collateral? What do you put up?"

Mbare grinned, flashing the silver chain. A small Bronze Drum hung at the end of the chain, carved with rainforest totems. "This. Passed down from the ancestors. Worth more than a rhino horn. Take it first. Wait until the heat dies down, and we’ll talk price."

Gabriel’s pupils contracted slightly, his gaze falling on the Bronze Drum. The patterns on it were exactly the same as his own.