He tries to scream, the terror stuck in his throat…the darkness all around him…the stench, he can smell the creature from hell, the low growl from its throat…flailing around him with his fists…can’t see, the darkness wrapped around him like a blanket…must defend myself, oh my God the fangs.
Africa, a land of myth, witchcraft, magic and corruption. A land where death waits in the shadows. A land where the hybrid now walks unafraid with a blood lust and a hatred for man …created to kill.
Man playing at being God, working with genetic creation, determined to create the perfect Human being…in isolation nothing can disturb the creation…nothing can go wrong but if you are in Darkest Africa, no one can hear you scream as you die by the hand of a creature not created by God, but by the sick mind of man…a creature from hell.
Two creatures now walk the African bush…one, a gentle soul breed from the womb of a chimpanzee…the other…a killer, a cross gorilla/mandrill baboon.
The hunt is on to bring an end to the madness, to the fear that stalks through the undergrowth, that is spreading its wings over Africa, to put an end to the killers rampage, to capture the gentle Hybrid…to sell her body to the highest bidder.
One man driven by greed…the other by compassion.

Fangs of Fury

<p>Wind blows across the car park, flapping the brightly colored flags that adorn the top of the old colonial building as Thomas Le Bon mounts the first of the steps leading up into what is now regarded as the Presidential Palace and residence of the man to whom he must report. Pierre Dubois rode into power at the head of a coup twenty-three years ago and set himself up as supreme ruler of the small landlocked African country after it had gained its independence from France, and now controls the country with a fist of iron. Like all African dictators, as long as he is able to move funds into offshore accounts, build up his wealth…the country can go to rack and ruin.</p>

Chapter8