Savage Horizons

by CJ Birch

  “Ash, you should drink while we have the chance. Who knows what else is out there waiting to make dinner of us.”

  She enjoys the feel of the water for a few more seconds then bends forward and scoops water into her canister. While she indulges, I look around. Smooth rocks pepper the bottom of the stream. Neon yellow fish with tiny spikes undulate between long, flowing reeds. Further down, there’s a fallen tree impeding water flow. A family of long necked birds sit along the edge dipping their heads into the water. They scoop up the neon fish and throw their heads back, sliding them down their throats.

  “Our best bet is to follow the stream.” I wipe as much dirt off my face as I can. “It’ll give us a fresh source of water and hopefully lead us somewhere good to camp tonight.” We spent last night out on the flat desert. But the sunset we watched made the searing heat of the day and the bitter cold of the night worth it. I’ve never seen anything so breathtaking. It was like the heavens landed at the edge of the desert and put on a light show. It was better than any nebula or galaxy spiral I’ve ever seen. The combination of reds, oranges, and pinks warmed me from inside until I thought I’d explode.

  Thanks to the pack Ash was wearing when Sarka left us, we have the ability to make fire. Unfortunately, there was nothing in the surrounding desert to make fire with. Instead we took turns at watch, trying to share what little body heat we had. Tonight, I’m determined we’ll have some sort of shelter and a fire.

  “The closer we stick to water, the more likely we’ll encounter unfriendlies.” Ash wipes the excess water from her mouth with the back of her hand. It slashes the encrusted mud on her face across her cheek.

  We’re both so filthy, I’m tempted to suggest we wade into the stream and clean off, but decide it’s too dangerous. Ash is right. We shouldn’t stick so close to the water for long. I pull the pack around and fish out another canister. “Let’s fill up as many canisters as we have and move within hearing distance of the stream. We’ll head upstream and find the source.”

  After about two hours, the jungle hasn’t changed much since we began. Every now and again we’ll see tiny rodent like creatures dart out from the underbrush. Large green feathers, almost like leaves, stick out of their spines. Their ears bounce as they move and flop forward when they stop. If I knew how, I’d catch one. I’m sure they taste better than any rations we have in our pack.

  Rations are hard packed squares. They resemble cardboard and taste like roasted almonds coated in wood pulp. The whole thing is unsettling. They’re designed to last for decades in storage, so any resemblance to actual food is discouraged. But they keep our stomachs full and that’s the important thing.

  “So, are we going to talk about it?” Ash picks a small leaf from a bush and begins to tear off strips, dropping them as we walk.

  There are several things we need to talk about and I’m not sure I want to talk about any of them. Not yet. “Which it are you referring to?”

  “The fact that your dad stole your ship and left us stranded on a planet to die.”

  Part of me is as numb as that sentence. Another, smaller part, is so confused, I want to keep it buried until I have time to dig it back up and examine it. “I’d rather not.”

  “It might help.” She tears off another leaf.

  “Help how?”

  “If you keep it bottled up, it’ll just fester. There’s no way you’re not pissed about this.”

  “If you want to know whether I’m surprised, I’m not. It doesn’t hurt as much when you expect betrayal.”

  “You mentioned you couldn’t understand how people seek approval from their families. I didn’t understand how you could feel that way until now. If it was my dad I’d be pissed. Aren’t you pissed?” She stops talking, afraid maybe she’s gone too far.

  I sigh. As always, she’s determined to push. “Can we drop it? I don’t feel up to talking about it right now.”

  She grabs my wrist, stopping me. “Don’t do that. You always do that. Why can’t you let down your guard for once?”

  I pull my arm away and continue walking. “Not everyone is capable of sharing everything about themselves.”

  She catches up to me and stops me again, this time, by stepping in front of me. “Won’t share.”

  I groan. “Can we please have this conversation later?”

  “And by later, you mean postpone forever?”

  All around us the jungle vibrates. Birds flutter and squawk above us. The leaves bristle. Insects buzz below. And the humidity strangles us in a vice. My pulse picks up, beating to the rhythm of our surroundings. It’s got me on edge and I have no idea how much longer I’ll stay calm with Ash pushing me like this.

  “I need time to figure this out. Can you respect that?”

  Her eyes drop to the ground, then raise back to me. She’s hurt, but she nods. “I can respect that. I know I don’t have any right to ask you these things. I just wish you’d trust me more.”

  “It’s not about that. I do trust you. I need a little time to get perspective. That’s all.” I take her hand in mine. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about my past. I’ve had twenty years to put my feelings about my dad to rest. And having them resurface like this…it’s hard to know how to deal with them. Even though I know him, know what he does, I didn’t ever see him like that. Now everything’s different. I can’t dismiss what he did with some childhood filter.”

  Ash nods. I’m not sure if she gets it or not, but at least I’ve silenced her questions for now. I keep walking. I want to find shelter before we die of heat exhaustion.

  At the sound of the water, Ash picks up her pace. “Do you think it’s another river?”

  As we get closer, the trees begin to thin out. I want to warn Ash to slow down, to wait for me. We have no idea what’s out here, but before I get a chance, she’s disappeared. I break into a run, going as fast as I can without injuring myself. When I finally catch up, I almost crash into her. She’s standing at the edge of a clearing, staring out at the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  I’m surrounded by rainbows. They dance in and out of sight, caught between water vapor and sunlight streaming through the canopy. Spread before us is a waterfall so tall, clouds obscure the top. It empties into several lagoons. These spill into lower lagoons until all have emptied into a small bay with water so blue, it’s more like turquoise. Lush green vines hang from each terrace, suspended in mid-air. It looks more like something out of dream than a real place.

  I look over to get Ash’s reaction, but she’s no longer standing beside me. There’s only her shirt, which lays discarded next to me. She tugs at her left boot as she hops toward the edge of the water, throwing each cast off piece of clothing behind her in her haste.

  “Ash!” I yell. “We don’t even know if it’s safe yet.”

  Instead of listening, she pulls her bra over her head and I’m distracted by the sight. The sun glints off her long, slender back. Next, she takes off her briefs and I look away, embarrassed to be watching her undress.

  I hear a splash and look again. Ash is treading water a few meters from the edge. Her smile is so big, it takes over her whole face. It’s breathtaking.

  “Come on.” She waves for me to follow her.

  I approach with caution. What if there are creatures living underwater waiting for some idiot to jump in?

  “Don’t be a wuss. It’s fine.” She flips onto her back and swims a couple strokes. Her breasts bob with the motion, and I blush. I actually blush. I feel like I’ve been caught peeping into the girl’s locker room.

  “For once in your life, do something impulsive.” She dives in and swims toward me.

  I recall the last impulsive thing I did. Another image of Ash’s nude body invades my mind. It plays back in full color with surround sound. She pops out of the water and splashes me.

  “Nothing’s going to happen. I promise.” She laughs and dives down again. Her legs kick in the air. Water splashes in
her wake. It’s hard not to get caught up in her enthusiasm.

  “Is it deep? Can I stand on the bottom?” I ask when she surfaces.

  “No, it’s pretty deep. Jump in, we’ll swim over to the waterfall.”

  I hesitate. There’s nothing I’d like better than to shed these grimy clothes and cool off, and Ash makes it look so inviting.

  She rolls her eyes. “Keep your clothes on if you want.”

  I sigh. “I can’t swim.”

  It’s Ash’s turn to look embarrassed. Her cheeks pink up and her gaze drops to her arms treading water.

  Swimming is a privilege on the Belt. We recycle all water through sophisticated filtration systems, even our urine. But a large part of the supply comes from mining carbon-rich asteroids. It’s dangerous, and expensive, making water one of our most precious resources. Only those living on Alpha would have the money or the arrogance to fill a pool with it.

  “I’ll keep you from drowning.” She cups her hand and sends a wave of water toward me, soaking my shirt.

  I laugh. It’s such a foreign sound. I don’t remember the last time I was in a good mood. But I am. It amazes me the way Ash can forget we’re stranded on a planet, vulnerable to any number of deadly creatures. Before I overthink it any more than I already have, I pull my wet shirt over my head and toss it next to Ash’s on the rocks.

  When I’m naked, I turn and see Ash treading water a few feet from the edge, watching me. There’s no mistaking the lust in her eyes. Heat spreads from my chest like a tidal wave. My skin prickles. We stare at each other. Ash floats in the water and I stand naked on a rock a few feet from the edge. For an instant, I’m happy we’re on this planet. Instead of dread, I’m actually experiencing anticipation.

  It’s me who breaks contact first. As I make my way to the edge, excitement coats every part of me as if I’ve already submerged myself in the lagoon. Before I’m able to lower myself into the water, my foot slips and I plunge into the depths of the cool lake. There’s a moment of panic when I realize I can’t breathe and I kick, hoping to propel myself toward fresh air.

  Strong, warm arms envelop me, drawing me to the surface. Ash is centimeters from me. I cough and sputter. Any hope of intimacy shatters.

  “Kick your legs for me.” She props me against her body and pulls a large piece of bark toward us. “Here, grab on to this, I’ll pull us toward the waterfall.”

  I hoist myself onto the makeshift raft and begin kicking while Ash pulls from the front.

  The spray hits us long before we reach the waterfall, coating us in tiny droplets. Each one gleams in the sunlight, making it appear as if we’re decorated with tiny diamonds.

  The main waterfall is too powerful to stand under. There are several smaller streams that act as showers. I position myself under one, holding the rock face.

  The water is clean and cool as it washes over me. For some reason it smells like flowers. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the sun through my lids like a red glow. Is this what it was like? To live under a sun? To wake up to it casting light over the horizon and to drift off to bed in the waning hours? I peer over at Ash, her eyes are also closed, but there’s a small crease on her forehead. Is she thinking the same thing I am?

  Without opening her eyes she says, “Do you think he’s coming back for us?”

  It takes me a moment to come back to reality and figure out who she means. When I do, my heart sinks. I shake my head. “No. He’s not coming back for us.” This is it. But for the first time, I can see the possibilities. We just need to figure out how to avoid the avians and embrace our long lost hunter-gatherer. After all, I could have it worse; I could be alone. A small part of me feels guilty. After all if it wasn’t for me, Ash wouldn’t be stuck on this planet. But another larger part is happy that she isn’t stuck up there with him.

  “I’m sorry, Jordan. I wish things were different.” She swims over to me, treading water, her breasts a few feet from me.

  I’m finding it hard to focus. The sun has added some color to her shoulders and face. The creamy white of her collarbone blends with the freckles. They map the contours of her nose and cheeks. I want to reach out and kiss every one of those freckles.

  I’m about to pull her close, when she says, “But we have to come up with a plan. Surviving in this place is going to come with a steep learning curve,” and brings me back to reality with a crash. She’s always thinking ten moves ahead.

  I swallow and push my libido down deep. “Our first step should be finding shelter for the night. After that, we can worry about food. Tomorrow, we can start exploring. If we’re going to set up a permanent place, I want it to be as far away from avian settlements as possible.”

  We indulge ourselves a little longer before climbing out and resuming our journey.

  The sound of the waterfalls blends into the background when we spot a small band of avians. There are four or five of them, all male, carrying hefty spears and what looks like one of those giant birds. It’s plucked and spitted. I pull Ash to the ground and look about for a place to hide or run. We have one gun between us, but I’d rather not have to use it. The less interaction we have with the locals, the better. Ash points to a large slope to our left, which would lead us away from them, but at what cost? It looks pretty steep and thanks to the forest, we can’t see the bottom. Who knows what’s waiting for us down there.

  “Unless you want to try to crawl under a bush, it’s our best option,” she says.

  I crawl over to the edge and peer down. There are trees scattered here and there, but there are several large rock formations. A loud cacophony breaks through the jungle. I wonder if it’s their laughter. And why not laugh? They’re heading home with a kill, large enough to feed their families. My stomach rumbles to remind me how empty it is.

  I start down the incline. Ash stumbles for a moment, then regains her footing. Tiny rocks, pebbles, and some rather large boulders trace our path down the side of the hill. Only a few more feet and we’ll reach the bottom. Only a few more feet, yet I still manage to catch my boot on one of the larger rocks and crash into a pile of boulders at the bottom. I lie there for a second, catching my breath. My back is screaming. Pain radiates all along my left elbow.

  “Watch out for the landing. It’s a bit bumpy.” Ash smirks and pulls me up.

  “Says the graceful swan who sailed down without any problems,” I say.

  When I finally get a chance to look around, we’re surrounded by trees.

  “Do you think they saw us?” Ash asks.

  I look back up the steep hill. The rock slide has covered our tracks. “I doubt it. But it’s still a good idea to find cover for the night. We should start looking for a place to make camp.”

  “How does this look?” Ash points to a small cave in the side of the hill.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  And now we’re camping.

  When I was ten, I found a pile of books in a crate from one of my father’s raids, long forgotten. It didn’t contain anything of worth in their minds. But for me, it was a goldmine. I read every one of those books. Most of them were science fiction, with dreams of time travel and utopias. All with futures that would never happen. There was one about a group of girls who journey into the Canadian wilderness. To camp. For fun. This concept was so foreign to me. Why would you leave your dry, safe, and clean home to venture out into a dangerous, dirty, wet, and cold forest? And yet, this was a thing humans used to do. I can understand in the army you’re forced into it, but volunteering? No, thanks. How do people stay clean with all this dirt around? Even now, minutes after a swim, my skin is sticky. The humidity keeps my skin coated in a constant sweat, which is like glue.

  “Isn’t this great?” Ash stomps through the cave entrance with a pile of wood in her hands. “I’ve always wanted to go camping.” Why am I not surprised? Of course she would love this. For her, it’s an adventure. As long as life isn’t boring, she’s happy.

  She dumps the wood in a pile near the entrance and
stacks them along the side for later. “In grade nine, our class took a trip to Gamma where they grew the evergreens. They wouldn’t let us have a fire so we couldn’t roast marshmallows or make s’mores. But it was so beautiful sleeping under the stars. Ever since, I’ve wanted to go camping for real.”

  When I was in grade nine they took us on a tour of the industrial farms. If you didn’t already live on a farm, they required you work on one during weekends, to prepare for the day you graduated. I was lucky Kate had a small herd of pigs and a field of corn. But it also meant I grew up knowing way too much about pig shit and how to use it as fertilizer.

  I don’t relay my story because I don’t want to intrude on Ash’s happy mood. It’s not her fault she was born on Alpha. Most of the time I don’t think she realizes how lucky she had it.

  “God, I wish we had marshmallows.” She sits back on her haunches and looks at me with an expression of intense horror.

  I stand up from my poor attempt at making us bed mats, worried. “What? What is it?”

  “I just realized I’ll never have chocolate pudding ever again. Even if this planet did have something like cocoa beans, I’d have no idea how to make them into chocolate. I don’t even know how pudding’s made.”

  I laugh. Of course that’s what Ash would miss most. Forget real beds or hot showers, which is what I’ll miss most.

  We spend the rest of the light hours gathering what we’ll need for the night. While Ash tends to our cave, I head out in search of food. Our pack only has a few ration bars and I don’t want to use them up in the beginning. It’s better to save them until we’re so hungry we’ll eat anything. Anything tastes good if you’re hungry.

  I don’t have much luck finding food. I spend a lot of time watching what the birds and tiny rodents are eating. I don’t know much about surviving in the wild except if there are others eating it, then it’s safe for us.