by Inmon, Shawn
Alex hung his head. “We can’t stay here. If we do, we’ll just be like a food pantry for whatever those things are. They’ll come grab and eat us whenever they feel like a snack.”
“The people called it a stinda-ta,” Werda-ak said. “I don’t know. I had never seen anything like it.” The boy shuddered involuntarily.
“What did it look like?” Alex asked.
Werda-ak grabbed a stick, cleared away a patch of dirt and drew. It was a surprisingly good drawing of an alligator for someone who had never seen one before.
Of course, being Kragdon-ah, I can imagine the size of the thing. How can we fight a monster that is thirty or forty feet long with a tough hide and a nasty attitude? Short answer? We can’t.
Alex wasn’t frozen for long. He approached the first mate and said, “What are the chances we get discovered here?”
The man thought for a while, then said, “The bigger ships run father out. They won’t pass anywhere closer to us. Some of the smaller boats and rafts run closer to shore, though. It’s possible one of them might see us.”
“Here’s what I think we should do, then,” Alex said, and detailed the best plan he could come up with. The remaining sixteen people saw the wisdom of his words, and immediately set to work.
They dug a channel about twenty feet back from the waterline, where the soil was soft and the digging could be accomplished with hands and sticks. The channel was only a foot or so wide and a foot deep. They dug through the night and by the time the next day dawned, they had a line dug that formed a circle that was sixty feet across. As soon as it became light enough to see, they began gathering firewood of all sorts. Some of it was driftwood that had washed up onto the beaches. The rest was plucked from the edges of the thick underbrush.
No one was willing to go too deep into the bushes after seeing what had happened to Alex and his friends, but if they stayed at the edges, they were able to find enough wood to build a decent stack of firewood.
Next, Alex instructed everyone to begin pulling up live plants and small bushes and piling them in one place. One particular type of plant with reddish-brown leaves turned out to be poisonous to the touch and infected anyone who touched it with a nasty rash, but they soon learned to avoid that.
By late that afternoon, they had completed Alex’s defense system, such as it was. They filled the trench all the way around with small, dry twigs, then laid some slightly larger pieces of wood crossways over the trench. They used small torches that they got off the fire to light the twigs, which, over time, burned high and hot enough to catch the larger pieces of wood on fire. This essentially gave them a ring of fire, which Alex was willing to bet would also be a ring of protection. They couldn’t kill the Stinda-ta, but they could make it unpleasant for them to attack.
Inside the ring, they kept at least a modest fire going at all times, not necessarily for the heat, because it didn’t get cold, even at night, but as a possible signal fire. That is what all the greenery was for.
Alex longed to be able to wade into the bushes, climb the tree, and search the horizon for ships, but between the leeches and the poisonous plants, he knew they would have to settle for looking from the beach.
The fire line kept them relatively safe—as safe as a group of humans surrounded by hungry animals can be—but Alex knew their time was limited. Werda-ak had been unable to find any edible plants, roots, or berries, so Alex and his group grew increasingly hungry with each passing hour.
There were berries that looked appealing, but Werda-ak said he couldn’t verify that they were safe. Hunger drives people, though, and after a time, one man ventured to the bush, picked a handful of berries, and gobbled them down.
“They are good!” he said triumphantly.
The remaining fifteen humans watched the man with a certain fascination, a human science experiment right before their eyes. The man himself waited half an hour to see if he would feel any ill effects. When he didn’t, he returned to the bush and ate all the berries that were there.
“He who strikes first, eats best,” he said.
“Or dies quickest,” Werda-ak observed.
An hour later, the man bolted from the safety of the fire circle, dropped his pants, and had explosive diarrhea. That went on for some time, then he hitched up his pants and returned to the fire circle.
He looked pale and wan, but said, “Still, it was almost worth it.” Almost immediately, he turned and jumped over the fire circle again and had round number two of diarrhea. Everyone looked away, and so did not see as the stinda-ta quietly slunk up out of the water and grabbed the man by his bare posterior.
THE MAN SCREAMED, OF course, as one does when one is grabbed in the butt by an alligator’s unforgiving bite. The beast pulled him to the water, took him below the surface, and he was never heard from again.
“I hope the berries give that thing the runs too,” Versa-eh said.
No one else tried foraging for food.
After the berry man was killed, the spirit seemed to go out of the castaways.
Alex gathered his group together and said, “I can’t promise to get us out of this, but I promise to give us the best chance we can have. We’ll keep watch tonight, taking turns feeding the circular fire and keeping our main fire going. Agreed?”
Senta-eh, Werda-ak, and Versa-eh all put two fingers against their forehead in agreement.
Alex took first watch and noticed that their supply of smaller pieces of wood that was necessary to keep the circle burning was running low. He made a mental note to restore their supply early in the morning.
He only slept a few hours after Senta-eh relieved him. As soon as it was light enough to do so, he was back at the fringe of the bushes, looking for small pieces of wood.
Which will happen first? Will we run out of wood to keep our circle going, or will we die of starvation? It’s a race to the finish!
He straightened up to relieve a crick in his back and glanced to the westward side of the island. He blinked once, twice, and focused.
A ship! Or, a barge! Or, a raft! Some sort of floating vessel, and that’s all we need to get off this God-forsaken rock.
Alex ran back to the fire and began throwing on their driest wood, then adding the green branches and leaves on top of that. The dry wood burned, the green branches eventually caught, and a huge, black column of smoke issued forth into the sky.
Alex fought the temptation to run to the west side of the island and jump up and down waving his arms.
The last thing I want to do is attract a rescue and get eaten by one of those monsters at the same time. They’ll either see our smoke or they won’t.
At the same time, Alex didn’t hold anything back for a second attempt. He piled every bit of greenery they had been able to scrounge together on the fire. When he had put every bit of fuel he could find on the fire, he put Werda-ak on his shoulders so they boy could see if the boat had seen them.
It approached from the north, running in between the island and the shore. It pulled almost even with them, but showed no sign of changing course.
“Nothing yet,” Werda-ak said. A moment later, “Still nothing.”
Alex never let himself be defeated. Where there is life, there is hope. But that moment, as the boat moved past them was as close as he had ever come to giving up.
I don’t know where we can find more fuel to catch someone’s eye. I put it all on the fire. We won’t even be able to keep the ring burning for another day, then we’ll all just be gator food.
Werda-ak tensed. “Wait!”
The longest moments of Alex’s life ticked away.
“It’s turning toward us!”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Rescue
Werda-ak sprang from Alex’s shoulders and took two steps toward the shore. Alex had to grab him and hold him back.
“Hold on, hold on. The stinda-ta are still out there, and they’re still hungry.”
Werda-ak did not tear his arm away and go to the shore
anyway. Instead, he stood on tip-toe, hoping to catch another glimpse of the boat.
They didn’t have to wait for long. In just a few minutes, a long, low barge with a single sail grew closer and closer. When it was only twenty-five feet from shore, a man dropped the sail while two others pulled out long poles and slowed their progress. A moment later, yet another man dropped a heavy rock bound in rope to act as an anchor.
“Are there people on there?” one of the men shouted at the island.
“Yes!” Fifteen people screamed back.
The man didn’t bother to ask how they got there. It was obvious they hadn’t gone there for a vacation. Instead, he said, “I don’t think I can get much closer. Can you swim for it?”
“There are stinda-tas in the water. They’ve already gotten most of us,” Alex shouted back.
“That’s a problem,” the man shouted back. “But, I don’t think I can get any closer than this. I’m happy to take you to shore or the next settlement, but you’ve got to figure out how to get on board.”
A man came charging up from behind Alex and plunged into the water. The group held its collective breath as they waited to see if he would succeed or be eaten. The man was not a smooth swimmer, but he stayed afloat and made it to the barge. Strong hands reached down and lifted him up. That started an exodus.
Everyone but Alex and his group took that as a sign to swim for their lives. They made it halfway there before the first stinda-ta surfaced, grabbed a woman, and dragged her down. Then another, and another. Of the nine people who had swam for it, six made it onto the barge.
“I don’t like those odds,” Alex said. “I want to get all of us out of here.”
“What are you going to do?” the man shouted.
“They are waiting for us now,” Alex said. “We’d never make it.”
“I can wait for a while,” the captain shouted from the barge. “But not forever.”
Alex waved at him and said, “Here’s what we’re going to do. Grab some branches and let’s make the fire circle taller and hotter.”
Within minutes, there was a line of fire burning several feet high.
“Now, you stay here. When you see me running toward you, we’ll all swim for it.” Without waiting for an answer, Alex skirted the fire and ran to the beach where they had first come ashore—the one opposite where the barge was anchored.
He waded out until he was in water above his knees, then began thrashing and kicking his legs.
Probably the dumbest idea I’ve ever had.
Long minutes ticked by and he stomped and jumped, kicked, and thrashed, trying to make as much noise as he could.
From a hundred yards away, Werda-ak shouted, “I don’t know if they’re coming to you, but they’re leaving here!”
Alex redoubled his efforts, shouting until his throat hurt, all while splashing as much as he could.
As they moved, his mind worked.
How do I know when to run? If I leave too early, I might not have drawn them far enough away. Too late and... well, it’s too late and sayonara, Alex Hawk.
With that happy thought, he looked up and saw two ping-pong ball eyeballs pop above the water. Those eyes were moving at him at an alarming rate. Alex lost his nerve, turned, and ran.
Except, you can’t really run in thigh high water. All you can do is wade.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up as he hustled as fast as he could, expecting to be bitten and hauled under at any moment. When his feet hit solid ground again, he sprinted for the fire line, wishing it was a little closer to the water.
Behind him, he heard the wet splash of one of the behemoth gators exiting the water. Ten feet away from the fire, Alex leapt. He heard snapping jaws behind him, but they closed on empty air. He had jumped both at the last possible second and one step too early. His tired legs didn’t have enough oomph to carry him over the fire and he tripped on a burning piece of wood and stumbled forward.
“Swim!” he shouted ahead.
He fought for his balance and lost, doing a magnificent face plant in the dirt. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that he had left the gator—the stinda-ta—behind at the fire line. He whooped a little and got back on his feet.
Versa-eh, Werda-ak, and Senta-eh all reached the boat and anxious hands pulled them to safety.
Monda-ak had refused to leave until Alex did. As Alex sprinted toward the shore, he yelled, “Come on boy, let’s go!” He made a clean dive into the water and swam for the barge.
As soon as he was close, Werda-ak and Senta-eh laid on their stomachs and reached their arms out to him. They pulled him up to safety. It took all three of them plus one of the sailors to help Monda-ak onboard.
Alex collapsed on the deck, breathing hard. Monda-ak shook from nose to tail, spraying water on everyone.
A young man stood over him and said, “Well done. I am surprised you all made it.”
Alex found his breath and said, “Can you take me to your captain, please?”
The young man smiled, flashing white teeth. “I am the captain of this vessel, such as she is.”
Alex blinked water out of his eyes and focused. Either the man looked younger than he was, or he had managed to captain his own vessel at an incredibly young age.
“I am Harta-ak,” the young captain said. “And yes, I am young to have my own barge. We’ll get you taken care of and I’ll tell you the story if you want.” He stood, turned to one of the older men and said, “See if we have enough cargo blankets to help these people dry off. And, throw a little more in the stew pot. I would bet these people are hungry.”
Alex gathered his small contingent together. “Everyone all right? Didn’t pick up any poisonous leeches in the water? No small fish ate your toes while you swam? No other disaster I can’t even imagine?”
As dead-exhausted as they all were, the four of them managed a small smile and reassured Alex that they were fine. Monda-ak sat on the deck and, as usual, looked absolutely fine and unperturbed.
Alex took a mental inventory of the passengers who had survived the taking of their ship, the swim to the island, and now boarding the ship. He had initially guessed that there were fifty passengers, plus the crew on the three-masted sailing ship. Now they were down to six and Alex’s group. The family they had shared the animal quarters with at the back of the ship were all gone. The man Werda-ak suspected as being from Lasta-ah had survived and sat off by himself. If he had traveled with companions, they had been lost.
Before long, the young captain had his crew distribute bowls of a thick stew to the refugees. He had to feed them in shifts because the barge was not equipped with enough bowls and spoons. No one complained.
While people ate, the captain spoke with each of them, either individually, or in small groups. He asked where they were heading before they had been pushed off the sailing ship. Alex saw what was going on and casually moved within earshot of the man who might be from Lasta-ah. When the captain asked him, the man said only one word: “Lasta-ah.”
Alex’s heart jumped. We are on the right track!
When the captain approached Alex’s group and asked the same question, Alex said, “We were just heading down the river. No particular destination.”
Harta-ak took that in stride, but there was something in his good-natured expression that revealed he knew that was not the truth.
Alex was already grateful to the young man for rescuing them, but now also appreciated someone who didn’t speak everything he knew. That was a rare quality.
“And were you all traveling together? Were there more of you?”
“No,” Versa-eh said. “This is all of us.”
“From what I hear from others, that is miraculous.”
Versa-eh pointed at Alex. “It is him. He got us through.”
The captain said, “Congratulations,” and moved on to the next person.
By the time everyone was fed, it was late afternoon. No one in the group had slept well the night before, and everyone l
ooked like they would soon nod off.
Before everyone fell asleep in the warm afternoon sun, the captain spoke. “We do not have enough supplies or room to take all of you to your destinations. We will be docking in a seaport tomorrow so we can offload some of our cargo. I need all of you to disembark there. For now, the towels we gave you to dry off will have to also serve as your beds. Feel free to stretch out wherever you can find room.”
There was a small amount of grumbling, but not much. Every one of the rescued knew that if this young captain had not come by when he had, they all would have died in the next few days. They would arrive in a new town with nothing but the ragged clothes they had on. Their plans were in shambles. But, they were alive.
Like everyone else, Alex was worn out. He knew he needed to create a plan, but his brain was mush. Everyone else in his group was already asleep, including Monda-ak. Alex laid down beside him, used his giant body as a pillow, and fell asleep.
Alex was normally the first person awake, but when he finally opened his eyes, it was already light. He had slept through the evening and the night, but he finally felt rested. Werda-ak and Senta-eh still slumbered on, but Versa-eh was nowhere to be seen. He sat up, stretched and scratched Monda-ak’s ears. “Come on, lazy dog. Are you going to sleep your life away?”
Monda-ak fixed him with a baleful stare, turned his head away and once again closed his eyes with a sigh.
“Guess I’m on my own this morning.” Alex patted the dog’s hindquarters, then stood and stretched. Most of the others who had been rescued still slept on as well. The crew moved among them, trying to both carry out their duties and not step on someone’s face. On the platform raised above the rest of the barge, the young captain, Harta-ak, stood, scanning the waters ahead of them. Beside him, Versa-eh seemed to be in the middle of a story. As Alex watched, the captain smiled, then laughed.
Alex peered around the boat, looking for even a semi-private spot where he could relieve himself over the side, and there was none. It didn’t matter to anyone else—the women just squatted over the side as well, but it was one part of life in Kragdon-ah that Alex had never fully adjusted to. Finally, nature gave him no choice and he found the best spot he could. No one paid him any mind.
