5 Summoning Mzanka
A daily crushing routine. Put on the wheel. The pains screaming out of him before they got him to full stretch again. Was it daily? How could he know? There was no daylight in Tarzan’s life. Only deep depressing darkness. Fears assailed him as soon as they came to the cage. Terrors of hours on that monstrous drum crushed on his indomitable spirit even before the wheel began to turn.
Four times he remembered. Four eternities left with the pains screeching in his blood. Abandoned once he was at full excruciating stretch. Left alone in that cave with his terrors. Looking up at the hole in the roof. Waiting for Mzanka to come. Enter and relieve him of this life.
Four times, maybe it was more. Events no longer mattered. Only surviving. Terror had destroyed Omekono’s will. Tarzan had seen with his own eyes what those terrors could do. His will saw the dangers for himself. His body was in agony. His will viciously under attack. It took all his effort .. back-breaking effort .. bent backwards over that wheel. As hard a brawl as he’d ever fought. A prolonged intense scuffle .. suffering, tortured. Fighting to hang on to his will.
Tarzan hadn’t heard them come for him. Collapsed into the sleep of the dead. Fled into a stupor far from the burning throbbing that held his body in their grip. Shouts. Bawls. Kicks in his side. A mind-crippling array of tortured agonies blistered through his brain before his mind cleared. Then …. his every muscle screamed. His head exploded with the searing pain. His every movement sent flames of liquid fire through his blood.
The cry penetrated the pain. But not the significance, he didn’t know what to do. A sharp kick to his side made Tarzan hiss out. But still the meaning of the word was whirring like some sickening vortex in his head. He yelled out. Hands had grabbed at his legs. Roughly hauling him out of the cage. Pain, shock, confusion. Dragged out on his side, pulled by his feet .. every movement stabbing .. scraping .. setting his nerves on edge .. making him hiss with the pain.
No variation. The same impossible yell into his shrill hearing. Hands caught him by the arms. Roughly yanked up to his feet. Pain rushed to his head. Tortured flesh burst into flames. Joints jarred with pain. An overpowering weakness overwhelmed his legs. Tarzan dropped unknowing to his knees.
The bawl in his ears jarred with the shrill screeching in his head. Tarzan swirled. His guts retched. He was about to throw up.
“Get him up.”
Strength outside of his own confusion yanked him up, his legs flopped underneath.
He was being dragged. Gradually Tarzan was conscious of tight grips digging into his muscular arms. Slowly he was becoming aware of what was happening to him. He could feel his feet dragging over the ground. But a nightmare of weakness had his head in a sickening whirl. And the strength of his body had been robbed of any power. Gone any chance to resist.
His senses were awakening .. coming round to the risk that if he did not escape their clutches .. well, Tarzan had seen what had become of Omekono …….