Thrives on suffering
This could not go on. They had to be stopped. There was a cruel evil prowling in the jungle. An evil revered by those who followed .. Mzanka. An evil that could destroy a virile manliness like Omekono. A force for evil that threatened Tarzan too. It had to be stopped.
Tarzan had come to his senses. For days he had felt overwhelmed … bewitched by the cruel might of the Untula. In Mzanka’s service they had tortured him till he could scarcely breathe. Weakened in body, confused in mind. Blinded by breath-taking ferociousness into thinking there was no way off this slippery downward slope. Where Omekono had landed up insane.
But Tarzan had come back to his senses. He had called a muscular halt to despair. Swearing they would be stopped. When the body was attacked by evil, the doctors cut it out. When Omekono had come in tribute .. paying homage, pleading to walk in Tarzan’s footsteps .. dedicating himself to freeing his jungle of wrong-doing …. Back then, had that virile manly being ever considered he would fall into the clutches of such evil? Had Tarzan either? No other answer, Mzanka had to be stopped.
There’d be a slip-up, there always was. Maybe in the last days .. his mind bewitched by their inhuman cruelty .. perhaps Tarzan had missed a blunder. Omekono had spotted one, he brought it off, escaped. Fallen into their clutches, fearsome warrior though Omekono was .. it had destroyed him. Destined too for sacrifice.
But still he HAD got away. If Omekono could pull that off, Tarzan would too.
These last agonising days Tarzan’s sufferings had betrayed him. He’d lost sight of hope. Daily weakened, hourly faced with despair. Tarzan had had his warning .. he had met the changed Omekono. Still strong, muscular, broad-backed, hard-packed chest. But a shell.
Omekono had got away in the nick of time .. lasted out until his luck turned. And he had grabbed that slim chance when it came. He had been up against the same odds. Was Tarzan any less? Omekono had shown the way. Never give up hope. Lay in wait .. luck would come his way.
The other side of that bit of luck lay freedom. Tarzan would escape. He knew it. He vowed it. But Tarzan swore he’d not run away. He’d pursued Wright here .. a monster who cared for nothing but his own gains. But these Untula .. they were no less monsters. Worse. Wright resorted to violence for money. Everything these Untula did …. they did in in slavish service to their god.
No changing them. They tortured, they killed, they destroyed .. to please their precious Mzanka. They’d never stop. Wright .. they’d kill him when he’d done his bit. But this tribe would not stop at that, nothing would ever be enough. Everything was in service to Mzanka, that justified their every murderous crime. They would never stop. They had to be stopped .. SOMEONE had to stop them.
Tarzan would get himself armed. He’d come back with force. Omekono’s brother .. his tribesmen equipped with guns. Tarzan would train them. For the Untula there was only one solution. Deadly force. Wipe them out. Cut out the cancer. Rid the earth of this evil. Eradicate them. Not an act of revenge. A mission for justice. It was what the jungle deserved.
And with his slavish devotees gone .. when no one was around to serve .. what would their precious Mzanka do with himself?