The raft was in four pieces and they salvaged a portion that was still afloat to transport their gear while they walked in the four-foot-deep water. One of the Ash 12s was lost, and they only had six bullets left for the Viking and eleven for the other Ash 12. The water was up to Svet’s chest, and she swam more than walked. Hawk’s wound throbbed.
The sun dropped below the rim of the world when the party entered the flooded jungle, and it started to rain.
22
A pounding rain fell, obscuring the sky and sending all the wildlife into hiding. Hawk, Svet and Max waded through the ghostly trees, the light of the fading day creating odd shadows within the deluge. Hawk was sure he’d seen someone hiding behind a tree, but when he investigated he found nothing.
Rain tapped on leaves, a million miniature soldiers marching across tinfoil, a static that grated nerves and tightened necks. Head down, Hawk put one foot in front of the other, fears of what might be below the surface of the water long gone.
The water got shallower with each step, and it was clear this section of the inland sea was newly formed. Weeds, grasses, and flowers still stuck from the earth, apparently unware they’d been covered with water. They swayed gently back and forth with the roll of the sea, and each step Hawk took kicked up a cloud of silt.
The sea diminished, and the party worked through knee-deep mud, the cluck and plop of feet pulling free rising above the pouring rain. The jungle formed around them, the trees becoming closer together, the underbrush thicker. Animals started to appear in the trees, and on the ground, and soon there was dry earth beneath their feet.
Night fell and darkness pressed in on them and the rain stopped. They made camp under a tree bow, but had no fire as there was no dry wood to be found. They ate jerky, drank some water, and passed out.
Hawk had the first watch, and he climbed into the bows of a tree to get a better vantage point. Clouds fleeted by overhead as the weather cleared, and stars blinked through the gaps. Everything was damp and smelled of rot and rotten eggs. Eggs. Hawk sure could go for an omelet. Perhaps in the morning he’d go on an egg hunt, though climbing trees to find nests was arduous work.
He rested the remaining Ash 12 within a crook in the tree trunk. The weapon was loaded with the last eleven bullets, and it had been agreed that here on out only single shots would be taken and all efforts would be made to conserve ammunition, though Hawk had no illusions. Soon the guns would be useless and that would be the beginning of the end.
His eyelids were heavy, and as comfort spread over him he fell asleep.
He woke to screaming.
Svet and Max lay on the ground at the base of the tree Hawk sat in, and a foot of water covered the ground. The bags of supplies floated in every direction, and Hawk’s mates were just getting to their feet and rubbing sleep from their eyes. As daybreak came on, the inland sea had risen and pushed further into the jungle.
“Max, grab those bags,” Hawk said.
The scientist looked up, his face distraught. “Wha—”
He didn’t finish because two raptor-like dinosaurs poked their heads through the foliage twenty feet from where Svet and Max stood. Hawk brought up the Ash 12 and sighted the weapon on the nearest beast, but before he could pull the trigger Max turned tail and ran into the jungle.
Svet, standing alone before the beasts, backed away, never taking her eyes off the green and red dinosaurs that hadn’t moved since they’d seen the travelers. Their heads nodded side-to-side, cold blue eyes blinking with curiosity.
Svet fired one shot from the Viking into the air and ran after Max, disappearing into the jungle and leaving Hawk alone. Seeing their prey run energized the raptors, and they half hopped, half ran as they gave chase, squawking and growling as they went.
“Shit.” Hawk scrambled out of the tree. Yelling could be heard ahead, and leaves and branches lashed him as he darted through the jungle, the water splashing and sending waves across the forest.
Hawk had a terrible thought, and he looked over his shoulder, trying to take a mental picture so he’d be able to find his way back to camp, and their supplies, but the trees mocked him. They all looked the same, and he had no idea which direction he’d run in.
“Hawk. Help.” It was Max. Hawk adjusted his course and headed for his mate, losing all sense of his position in the jungle. He slowed, listening hard as the water sloshed around him. He worked through the trees, tripping over submerged underbrush and roots, until he reached a clearing where he found Max and Svet back to back, the two raptor-like dinosaurs watching them from ten feet away.
Svet held the Viking before her, her arm rock steady. She had five bullets left. The creatures’ heads bobbed and weaved, and unless she made perfect headshots, it wouldn’t be enough to take down the animals. Putting two bullets in each would most likely just piss them off and make them attack, so she held her fire.
Max held Hawk’s spear, but it looked like a toothpick compared to the muscular, thick-skinned raptors. The beasts were ten feet tall, with large powerful legs and short arms below an elongated head. The things looked like mini T-Rex’s. They clicked and slurred, as if communicating, and when the noises stopped, the beasts advanced, spreading out and encircling the travelers.
Hawk fired the Ash 12, its report sending birds spraying from a nearby tree where they’d been hiding from the foul weather. Both dinosaur heads snapped in Hawk’s direction, their dark eyes narrowing. More clicking as the creatures looked at each other, and one advanced on Svet and Max, and the other turned its attention to Hawk.
He backed away, and hid behind a tree, training the Ash 12 on the animal’s head, right between the eyes. The dinosaur came forward like a chicken, slow awkward steps through the flood water, head bobbing up and down, side to side. As it advanced, the beast chortled and it sounded like a big cat purring.
The dinosaur was ten feet away when it screamed. Its mouth sprang open and purple-blue bile streaked from its mouth. Hawk ducked behind the tree, and a mass of phlegm and mucus slapped against the tree trunk like a wet towel, spattering Hawk’s arm.
It was believed by scientists that certain dinosaurs had a defense mechanism built into their saliva that incapacitated their prey. Hawk had no doubt that was what the stuff was and he was careful not to touch the discharge.
Hawk couldn’t see the dinosaur from his hiding place behind the tree trunk, but the animal moaned again and more phlegm smacked against the tree. Hawk stepped out, sighted the Ash 12, and fired one shot at extreme close range. The bullet struck the dinosaur in the forehead, and it stood suspended in time, its large wet eyes rolling back in its head.
The beast staggered back and fell into the water with a splash. Hawk came forward, using the fallen beast as a shield as he sighted the other dinosaur, which stood still before his companions.
The creature’s attention was on Hawk, and Svet saw the opportunity and seized it. She stepped forward and aimed the Viking at the animal’s head and squeezed off two shots. The dinosaur’s head exploded in a hail of blood, bone, and skin. The beast dropped to the ground, all life gone.
“Are you guys all right?” Hawk asked.
“We’re fine,” Svet said. “Now.”
The sea water at Hawk’s feet turned red with the animal’s blood, and in that moment an immense sorrow crept over him. These animals had done nothing to deserve this. The universe had thrown them together with man for the first time, and they were doing their best to survive. None of this was fair, but what was fair anymore? By all accounts Hawk and his friends should be dead.
The gray haze of dawn crept over the jungle as day broke. The fight over, the constant sound of insects, the bleating of lizards, the cries of pterosaurs, and the tittering of birds again filled the forest.
“We need to find camp. See if we can salvage our supplies,” Hawk said. The faces that stared back at him had no hope. They’d been beaten, and it was disconcerting. Through all their tribulations his friends had remained confident. If their supplies had floated away
they were screwed and there was no sugarcoating it.
“Let’s try and follow the path that brought us here. Find our way back to camp that way,” Max said.
“I hope you guys paid attention to trees as you were running for your life, because I didn’t,” Hawk said.
“No footprints in water,” Svet said.
The rising sun cut through the tree canopy, shinning spotlights on the flooded jungle floor. A creature yelled in the distance, and that faint cry was a reminder the party would soon have to deal with the masters of this world. A spray of insects dive bombed Hawk as the cloud zipped past. Hawk almost hit himself in the face swatting at them and Svet laughed.
The bite on Hawk’s arm hurt, but it wasn’t bad. The seawater-soaked bandage had dried and it chafed and needed to be changed, but he pressed on. Conifers mixed with palm trees filled the jungle, and giant ferns and bushes with broad yellow leaves covered the ground like snow. They began marking trees, spreading out and calling to each other to cover more ground.
“Climb tree?” Svet said.
Hawk surveyed the height of the nearby trees. He couldn’t get high enough to see anything. “Not here,” he said. “But keep looking. Thicker and taller.”
“Da.”
Hawk couldn’t shake the feeling he was getting further from his goal. How far had he run while chasing his friends? At least a mile, and he changed direction twice. When Max found their first marked tree they changed direction. The trees were further apart and Hawk remembered the area. The forest was afire with light, clouds of gnats and flies filling the air.
“I recognize that tree,” Max said. “The odd T where those branches come together. I remember thinking how strange it was when we passed it.”
“So we’ve gone in circle?” Svet asked.
“Ja.”
Svet said, “At least we know where to go now.”
“Let’s hope all our stuff hasn’t floated away,” Hawk said.
The water had receded as the tide went out, but there were patches of deep mud, and other impediments that couldn’t be seen, so Hawk went slow, more feeling his way than using his eyes. The sky had cleared, and sunlight blazed down upon the land, but under the tree canopy it was cool and dim.
“Here,” Hawk said. He squeezed through a stand of trees that was tightly packed and emerged into the clearing where they’d slept.
“What?” Max said.
All their supply bags were stacked haphazardly atop a pile of stones above the waterline. Hawk and his friends stood in silence, trying to come up with a scenario that explained what they saw. As usual, his companions were ahead of him.
“If the wind blew a certain way they could have been blown into the crux of the rock pile, and when the water receded they would have been left high and dry.”
“Luck? Da?” Svet said. “About time.”
She stepped forward and grabbed her bag off the pile and pulled out some jerky.
“Most likely the water’s currents are to blame,” Hawk said.
23
The castaways collected their stuff and pushed inland. Svet’s mini-guitar was lost in the flotsam, and their food was gone. Animals had pillaged their supply while they were running, but thankfully the creatures hadn’t taken their water bottles. The four stainless steel containers had been key to their survival, and without them, carrying any significant amount of water would be difficult.
“Oh, well,” said Max.
“What?” Hawk asked.
Max looked at Svet and frowned. “Our bag with the… it’s gone.”
Svet said, “Our pills?”
“Ja.”
Now Hawk knew what they were talking about. “Your say goodnight pills are gone?”
“You know of this?” Svet said.
Hawk reached into this pocket and drew out his plastic vile and held it up. “Thought about taking this thing so many times…” He looked at his companions. “You guys are what stopped me. Our friendship.”
Svet and Max said nothing.
Hawk now felt guilty that he had this easy way out, and his friends didn’t. Plus, who was he kidding? He didn’t have the guts to kill himself, and maybe that was good. He tossed the plastic vile containing his pill into the jungle, and smiled.
“Whatcha do that for?” Max said.
“We’re in this together now, for better or worse,” Hawk said. He felt better immediately, like he’d dropped the ring of power in Mount Doom. The pill no longer could taunt him, entice him to pass into the peaceful black beyond.
There were signs everywhere that the inland sea penetrated further than they’d believed. Hawk noticed several piles of nuts against a stone, the ebb and flow of the sea collecting them there. There were piles of debris and leaves, and Hawk felt more at ease about their supply bags being gathered by the sea.
Max looked exhausted. He’d been incapacitated for so long he was out of shape. Hawk’s arm throbbed with pain, and it was getting puffy and red. Svet said she thought the best thing to do was cut the wound open, clean it well, and cover it with her homemade salve, but that idea made him nervous. He’d been wounded many times over the years, and there was one consistent piece of medical advice he’d received: if you don’t need to open a wound and expose it to infection, don’t. He feared infection had already set in and he didn’t know what else to do.
When Max tripped over a root and fell, Hawk knew they needed a break.
“Svet, you see any footprints or signs of big guys?” Hawk said.
“Nyet. Water scare them off maybe. No scat. No scratches on trees. Nothing.”
“Ja,” Max said. “The animals instinctually would stay away from the tidal areas, though it looks as though the sea hasn’t come this far inland in some time.”
“Good place to lay up for a bit, then? Restock, rest up and get healthy?”
Max’s face tightened with pain. “As much as I don’t want to stop, I think that might be best in the long run.”
Hawk nodded. The forest was packed with trees even Max was having trouble identifying. Mixed in with the conifers, giant ferns and palms were thick trees with gray bark and purple leaves with thin green veins. A clear sap leaked from these tree trunks like syrup. The bows of these trees were wide and thick, with tightly spaced branches. When they came across a stream that flowed toward the inland sea, Hawk called a halt.
Hawk chose one of the trees with the gray bark that had a broken lower branch. The limb was still attached to the trunk via bark, and with a little effort the party covered the fallen branch with palm fronds creating a small shelter. Svet cut sticks, sharpened them, and drove them into the ground around their hovel, while Max gathered nuts and fruit.
They’d lost their bows, all their arrows, the spears, and all that remained was Hawk’s bolas, which was saved because it had been dangling from Hawk’s waist during the disaster of the prior day. Hawk crouched within the underbrush, waiting for unsuspecting vermin, or a small dinosaur or lizard to venture by. He sat concealed until the sun passed noon, when he gave it up. He’d seen nothing except a few birds, and some very small lizards that fought a battle with the ants on the tree he hid beside. He should have cut some meat off the two dinosaurs they’d killed the prior day, but he’d been frazzled from the fight and hadn’t thought to.
When Hawk got back to camp, Svet cleaned his wound and replaced his dressing. He’d decided to push off the decision about opening the cut for another day. Svet had gotten adept at handling cuts and gashes, and she was the group’s defacto doctor, though Max knew more about anatomy. Svet had the touch, which Hawk constantly ribbed her about. Russians weren’t known for their sensitivity. Especially women who’d been forced to fight through the glass ceiling in Russia’s military, which was one of the worst in the world when it came to sexism.
They ate fruit and nuts, drank some of their freshly boiled water, and lounged in the shelter. Outside, the chorus of insects buzzed, but they heard no pterosaur cries, or growling dinosaurs.
&
nbsp; Ten days passed without incident, but on the eleventh day the party woke in the deep of night to a flooded ground. They quickly packed, and exited into the pitch black. Stars blinked against the darkness, but the moon was nowhere to be seen. They stopped and Hawk lit a fire, and the companions of the International Space Station huddled from the night chill, the ground around them becoming damp as the sea crept silently across the land.
When a puddle of standing water formed beside them, Hawk said, “Time to go. Sun will be up soon.”
“Ja.” Max got up with an effort, and Hawk wondered if perhaps they should move to a dry spot and continue their convalescence. There was no great rush, or was there? What were the odds the extinction event was in the near future? Most likely, it was hundreds, maybe thousands of years in the future, and whether it took six months or six years to get to the beacon it didn’t really matter.
But it did matter. Increasingly, Hawk believed the quest was the only thing holding their tiny band together. Had it not been for the beacon, Hawk was certain Max would have given up already, and though Svet still put up a good front, the lines on her face, the dark rings around her eyes, and her sunburned complexion said something else. He had to keep them moving forward. That was all Hawk knew how to do.
The ground rose as they struggled through the forest. The underbrush grew thicker, and their progress slowed to a crawl. The water didn’t reach this far inland, and the sounds of animals increased as they fought their way through ferns, weeds, and flowers of every color. The air smelt like perfume, and Hawk sneezed. His arm felt better, but his legs ached and his stomach grumbled.
They broke free of the jungle and hit a pond—a giant puddle really—with brackish brown water. Hoof prints, claw marks, and the wavy lines of alligator-like tracks led to the watering hole, and the party moved away from the puddle as fast as they could, but didn’t go far.
“Why don’t you guys rest under the thick fern there?” Hawk said. “I’ll go hide in a tree by that waterhole and get us some meat for dinner.” They needed it desperately. They’d exerted a lot of energy, and fruit and nuts didn’t replenish the body like meat.
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