Throwback

by Edward J. McFadden III

  “Should be easy to find dry wood,” Max said.

  “Da. I get fire going,” Svet said.

  “Cool. Keep an eye out for wood to remake our weapons,” Hawk said.

  “Ja, will do,” Max said.

  Assignments given, Hawk sharpened a stick into a spear and disappeared into the jungle.

  The waterhole was still deserted when he arrived, so Hawk hoisted himself into a nearby tree and waited. He had the Viking with him, but it was tucked away and he didn’t plan to use it unless he had no other option. His bolas hung over a branch at the ready, and he rested the spear on his shoulder, prepared to fire should dinner come to get a drink. But nothing came, the hours stretched on, and the heat and humidity soaked him through.

  Hawk’s mind wandered, and he tried to calculate how long ago they’d crash landed. Knowing he might be off by a factor of five, Hawk estimated he and his partners had been traipsing around the Cretaceous for four months. It was hard to believe. They’d gone from one crisis to another, though their time spent on the shore of the inland sea wasn’t too bad. If that’s what he and his companions had in store for the rest of their lives, there were worse ways to live. If only his wife and kids were with him, he thought he might be at peace.

  He was stirred from his thoughts by a flock of animals hooting and screeching as they approached the waterhole. Perhaps this was a way of telling any smaller creatures to clear out, but when he saw the beasts who’d come to drink he didn’t think that was the case.

  To Hawk’s untrained paleontologist eye the animals looked like ostriches, but they were green and yellow, and their feathers were small and tight like hair. Their bony legs were nothing like their arms, which looked muscular, but short. Red eyes shifted and rolled as the creatures looked at nothing and everything at the same time.

  The beasts moved forward in a wave, together in a way that reminded Hawk of a flock of birds. The creatures didn’t notice him as they clustered around the puddle, lapping up the brown water as if they hadn’t drunk in days.

  The beast’s midsections were plump, like a turkey’s, and Hawk judged they might be good eating. He drew back his spear, and something over his shoulder squawked. A huge multi-color bird sat within the dense canopy of the tree, and it startled Hawk and he teetered, dropping the spear and gripping the branch he sat on to stop his fall.

  He was unsuccessful. He pitched off the branch, hung there for a second by one hand, and fell to the ground with a crash. All eyes turned Hawk’s way, and all drinking and jabbering ceased. There were twenty-two of them, and the Viking had four bullets in it. Despite this, Hawk slowly drew the weapon out. Taking out one or two might dissuade the rest.

  The animals inched forward, led by the tallest of them, which was mostly green, and had jagged scars all over its body, presumably from past battles.

  Hawk put his back to a tree as the flock advanced. He sighted the leader.

  “Yoooooooo,” came a call from the jungle.

  The flock of beasts paused, all heads turning toward the sound. Hawk ran, weaving in and out of trees like a race car through traffic. A cramp tightened his leg, but he pushed on, the sounds of pursuit driving him forward. Not wanting to lead the animals back to camp, Hawk twisted, turned, and backtracked, and by the time he was too winded to continue, the creatures had given up the chase.

  The day was getting on, and Hawk didn’t want to go back to camp empty handed. Whoever had helped him out was nowhere to be seen. Svet or Max had probably headed back to camp rather than search for him in the woods and risk getting lost.

  He stalked the underbrush and managed to snag a squirrel-thing with his bolas, but it was mostly skin and bones. Maybe Max or Svet could work their magic and make a soup or stew.

  When Hawk arrived at camp Svet and Max sat by the fire, looking tired and disheveled. Why his friends found the need to hide their love making from him he didn’t fully understand, but he knew there was a layer of guilt there, as well as a wish to not remind Hawk constantly about what he didn’t have.

  “Which one of you do I owe the thank you to?” Hawk said.

  “For what?” Max said.

  “The distraction you… or Svet, provided saved my ass.”

  Max and Svet looked at each other. “What are you talking about?” Svet said.

  “Just a few minutes ago. In the forest. One of you yelled and got the beasts off my trail.”

  “I’m sure neither of us did. We were… preoccupied,” Max said.

  “The wind?” Svet asked.

  “Don’t think so,” Hawk said. He looked back into the jungle the way he’d come. “Must have been the cry of an animal, but man it sounded like a person.”

  “I had a cat that sounded just like a baby when it cried,” Max said.

  “Indeed,” Hawk said.

  24

  Hawk and his friends lived under the large fern for six days, and in that time Hawk’s wound got much worse. The gash was swollen and red with white pus around its edges. The cut was infected, and it was spreading.

  “What I wouldn’t do for an antibiotic,” Hawk said.

  “Da,” Svet said. “You ready to do this? Or you wait until it gets worse?”

  Hawk had waited long enough, so he nodded his consent.

  “Good. Max, boil water and gather large leaves and vines for bandage. I boil knife blade.”

  “Ja.”

  Hawk sat with his back to a large tree trunk, his arm throbbing in rhythm with his heart. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “Da. Trust me. I sew many people back together.”

  Soon the water bubbled over the fire and Svet held her blade within, sterilizing it. She made some of her special cream with aloe, mud, and crushed leaves and flowers of calendula. The marigold-like plant had yellow flowers and deep green stems and leaves. Svet had found several herbs and medicinal plants since their arrival. She had a version of thyme, mint, and a sweet purple herb Max thought was a relative of saffron.

  “This hurt, da?”

  “Yup,” Hawk said.

  Svet took his arm and placed it on a log they used as a table. She said, “Max, hold down his hand.” Svet put one hand on his elbow, and with her other pulled the knife blade free of the boiling water.

  Steam filled the air, and the scent of earth and rot.

  “Try not to move, da,” Svet said.

  Max gave Hawk a stick to bite down on.

  She looked at Max with eyes that said, “Make sure you hold him down.”

  Svet went to work, flaying back Hawk’s skin around the bite. Hawk bit the stick as pain surged through him and he fought the urge to jerk his arm free. Blood poured from the wound, and as Svet cut deeper white pus ran through the blood like vanilla syrup through strawberry ice-cream.

  Hawk whimpered, but managed to stay conscious as pain rattled him. It seemed like hours had passed when Svet put down her knife and started cleaning the wound. That hurt just as bad as the cutting, but when she rubbed a generous supply of her salve on the cut, the pain lessened.

  Svet wrapped leaves over the wound and tied them in place with vines. When she was done, she leaned back and sighed, sweat dripping down her face into her raccoon eyes. She looked haggard, her beauty hidden by months of dirt, stress, malnutrition, and lack of sleep.

  “Thanks,” Hawk said. He rotated his arm and stretched his shoulder.

  “We keep close eye on, da?”

  “Da,” Hawk said. He felt stronger already.

  Rested, fed, stocked with water, and as healthy as they were ever going to be, the party pressed on through the primordial jungle like three giant ants, heads down, a stark determination and stubbornness driving them forward.

  After a couple of hours, they halted to rest and eat.

  “How does your arm feel?” Max asked.

  “Much better,” Hawk said.

  “What’s that?” Svet asked. She pointed through the trees to the west, where the forest seemed to open up and sunlight filled the
underbrush.

  “Don’t know,” Hawk said. He grabbed the Ash 12 and got up, checking the weapon to ensure it was ready to fire. There were nine bullets left in the magazine.

  The trees thinned out, the underbrush became less thick, and the ground turned the color of coal. A section of the forest was burnt-out. It was a wasteland of black tree trunks, charred groundcover, and scorched earth. The devastation stretched into the distance in all directions. Creepers encroached upon the black patch, but they hadn’t made much progress which told Hawk the fire had been recent. The scent of smoke and ash pervaded the air, but nothing smoked and Hawk saw no cinders.

  “Damn,” Max said.

  “What stopped it?” Svet asked.

  “No idea. Maybe rain?” Max said. “What else could it be?”

  “Sometimes the vegetation is so moist it doesn’t burn,” Hawk said.

  “We cross? Go around?” Svet said.

  Going around would take them way out of the way, but Hawk didn’t like being exposed on the fire blasted plain. Like the inland sea, every creature for miles would see them pass. The charred land stretched as far as the eye could see to the north and south.

  “I think we have to cross it,” Hawk said. “Good news is we should be able to see the beacon light without the tree canopy hampering us.”

  “Maybe,” Max said. “We’re at or below sea level.”

  “Do you want to spend night in open?” Svet asked.

  A good question. The sun was starting its descent to the horizon and in three hours, dusk would cover the land. “Good point. Let’s head back into the woods and make camp for the night.”

  The next morning, they rose with the sun and headed out across the blackened earth. Small green saplings poked from the charred dirt, and within months the area would again be covered in green.

  “Life finds a way,” Max said.

  “Burning can be good for the forest. It will grow back stronger and thicker than it was before,” Hawk said.

  “In your country they do on purpose, da?” Svet said.

  “Yup. The forestry service often does controlled burns to replenish the forest, but it’s a risky business. If winds kick up, or shift, control can easily be lost.”

  They hiked on, the sun baking them with no tree cover, nothing to absorb the heat. By midday Hawk was drenched and called a halt. The companions rested beside a burnt tree, its skeletal remains dark and forlorn. A thin line of jungle cut across the horizon to the west, but it looked a long way off.

  “You think we make it by night?” Svet said.

  Hawk didn’t know and said nothing. He was in a heat induced haze and thought he saw a flash of light from the jungle in the distance, but he said nothing to his friends because it didn’t reappear.

  The jungle was closer than he’d figured, and it looked like they’d make it there just as the sun went down. What Hawk hadn’t planned for was the herd of stegosaurus that blocked their way. The mountainous beasts lounged just outside the tree break, enjoying the shade the trees provided as the sun sank, leaving an orange-black sky that looked like dirty sherbet. The huge hippo-ish beasts had long tails with triangle spikes along their backs and down the tail, which ended with a spike. They’d dealt with this type of monster before. Their hides were armored, the heads protected by bone shields and horns.

  “What now?” Max asked.

  “We sneak around them.” He didn’t like that plan, but he saw no other path.

  With no cover to conceal them, Hawk led Svet and Max north, where they’d turn west again once they were passed the herd. If the beasts charged them they were done. With nowhere to hide, and no cover, they’d be run down, but the beasts didn’t seem to notice them. The day waned, the sky grew cloudy, and a light rain fell.

  The weather was getting colder, but Hawk didn’t fear a harsh winter. The landmass they were on was on the equator, so he didn’t think snow would be in the forecast. Hawk’s head snapped up at a great braying and whinnying. The herd of stegosaurus was moving toward them.

  “Run for the trees,” Hawk said. In the tight confines of the jungle, the large animals would be unable to maneuver.

  Black soot kicked up as they ran, and Hawk choked on it, the ash filling his eyes and stinging his throat. The herd was nothing more than a black dust cloud as it got closer, and Hawk didn’t think they were going to reach the woods before they got run down. He looked back at his friends and Svet was running beside Max, who looked exhausted. Max threw himself forward in long looping strides, and every few seconds Svet would put a hand on him to steady her lover.

  “Let’s split up,” Hawk said. “You guys head further north, and I’ll continue toward the forest. Maybe they’ll chase me and leave you guys alone because I’ll be closest.”

  “Nyet.”

  “That’s an order,” Hawk said. The words sounded strange coming from his mouth. An order. What a joke.

  Svet looked at him with betrayed eyes, but she obeyed. Grabbing Max’s arm, she steered him northward, away from Hawk.

  Alone, with only his breathing echoing in his ears, Hawk recounted his life as best he could. It had been a good life, if short, but all his regrets came rushing back like the tide. All the baseball games he’d missed. The dance recitals. The anniversaries. Had it been worth it? As he ran for his life from extinct creatures that were going to trample him down, he couldn’t help but feel that he had wasted his life, and now it would end in this burnt-out land, where his bones would rest until they turned to dust.

  A gunshot rang out, then another, and another. Hawk looked over his shoulder. One of the stegosaurs had gone down and the others had stopped, and they stood around their fallen mate. Hawk turned it on, pumping his arms and legs as fast as he could, head thrown back. Max and Svet had bought him some time, and it might be enough.

  He entered the forest at a full run and jumped onto the nearest tree and climbed, pulling himself branch to branch with the practiced ease of a monkey. When he was up twenty feet he spared a glance for the blackened plain. The herd hadn’t moved. They stood around the dead dinosaur, their somber cries chorus-like.

  Svet and Max were nowhere to be seen, and Hawk judged they’d made it to the jungle and were working their way to him. They knew he was inside the tree break to the north of their position, so he’d wait for them to find him.

  There was movement out of the black plain as the herd moved back toward the jungle at a leisurely pace. Behind them, the fallen stegosaurus looked like a boulder on a dark desert. Already a squadron of pterosaurs circled above the carcass, dive-bombing the dead animal and pulling flesh from its bones.

  The light rain stopped, but the wind picked up. A thick mist hovered just above the forest floor, the humidity increasing. It felt good to Hawk, and his tightened muscles loosened. Dust settled over the forest, and the blackness of night came on. The desolate plain looked even more barren in the half-light. The scene reminded Hawk of an old black and white photo.

  Svet and Max appeared in the forest below, and Hawk climbed down. The forest was an out-of-tune orchestra. The constant buzz of insects. Birds chirped and shrieked, lizards bleated, and the trees and underbrush brought confinement and security.

  Hawk said, “Who do I have to thank for that awesome cover fire?” Three shots had been fired, and at least one of them had struck home, freezing the rest at a critical moment.

  “That would be me,” Max said.

  “Only two shots left for the Viking, eh,” Hawk said.

  “Should be three.” Max slipped the magazine from the gun and thumbed out the shells into his palm and held it out to Hawk.

  Three bullets lay there, the brass shining in the sunlight.

  25

  They stopped for the night in a hollow filled with giant ferns and water reeds. The area was dry, but smooth sections of dried mud and piles of sticks and leaves showed the outline of a large puddle. They camped beneath a spreading dwarf palm, sheltered by the thick fronds that were so tightly packed it
was hard to see the stars.

  Svet lit a fire, and the time travelers sat around the roaring blaze. The shallow notch in the land hid them well, and for the first time since they’d left the treehouse at the edge of the inland sea, Hawk felt at ease, or as much at ease as he’d ever be. The evening symphony was going full tilt, and it was hard to talk over the nightly tremors of chaos.

  “So, are we going talk about the missing bullet?” Max said.

  “Not now,” Hawk said. They’d finished eating and Hawk had one more thing to accomplish before they settled in for the night. “I’m hiking back out to the burnt plain and see if I can catch a glimpse of the beacon light.”

  “Da. I go with you,” Svet said.

  Max said nothing. Someone had to stay back at camp and watch their stuff and keep the fire going. They couldn’t leave their essentials unguarded.

  “Ok, let’s go then. Sooner we leave, sooner we can get to sleep.” Max and Svet exchanged glances, and Hawk said to himself, no worries, there’ll be time for a bump, though he couldn’t imagine where. Their teenage bullshit was getting on his nerves, like the two had never had sex before. Then Hawk remembered that in a way they probably hadn’t. Both had been married for a long time, and he believed both had been faithful spouses, so for them this was like high school.

  Torches in hand, Svet and Hawk threaded through the forest, backtracking the way they’d come. When they reached the burnt landscape, they snuffed out their torches. Nothing moved on the open plain. Starlight and moonlight lit their way, but shadows scampered in the jungle behind them.

  They walked out onto the clearing three miles. In the west there was an intermittent glow of light, but it was hard to tell if it was the beacon or the glow of moonlight on the horizon. The pillar of light they’d seen from the mountain top wasn’t visible.

  “You think that is it?” Svet said.

  “I think so. If you look in any other direction the light is much less intense. Plus the way it pulses. If it was natural light it wouldn’t do that, I wouldn’t think.”