Sojourners: Farpointe Initiative Book Two

by Aaron Hubble

  Calier crawled toward the fire and pulled out a burning stick. The heat from the flames scorched his hand. He ignored the pain and waved the burning brand above his head. Another whistle sounded from the darkness above him and he heard the scream of Anoki, the teenage boy. A stalker had knocked him to the ground and now grasped his legs in those awful talons. Leathery wings unfurled and beat the air as the creature sought the trees where it could enjoy its meal.

  Waving the stick above him, Calier rushed at the animal, screaming. He didn’t know what else to do and wasn’t sure this would accomplish anything, but he wasn’t about to let the stalker take another one of his family.

  The stalker had lifted the boy several feet off the ground. Calier hurled the flaming torch, but missed miserably.

  The creature climbed toward the treetops, but suddenly crashed to the ground, screaming, and landed on top of the Anoki. It struggled off the boy, wobbled slightly on its feet and then jumped back into the air, screaming as it flew.

  Calier looked across the fire and saw Maltoki standing with his crossbow on his shoulder. The young man’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his face ashen in the firelight. He nodded to Calier and then quickly moved to where Anoki lay on the ground. Denar, Kan and Onan moved away from the fire carrying hand lamps and torches. They searched as far as their light would penetrate into the forest, looking for any signs the night stalkers were still in the immediate vicinity.

  “Anoki!” Bormar, the boy’s father, rushed forward followed closely by his mother, Sulhan. Maltoki had reached him first and cradled the boy’s head in his hands. Anoki’s eyes fluttered open and he groaned.

  “That’s a beautiful sound,” Maltoki said. Rohab and Calier were now also crowded around the boy.

  “Let’s get him to the fire. I want to check him over,” Rohab said.

  Bormar and Maltoki lifted the teenager and carried him close to the fire.

  Rohab started probing the boys leg. “Does that hurt, lad?”

  Anoki moaned. “A little. My shoulder hurts too.”

  Calier could see several puncture wounds on the boy’s leg where the stalker’s talons had gripped him with the intention of taking him into the night sky.

  “Someone fetch me water and soap. I need to wash these wounds,” Rohab said. Berit left to fetch what Rohab needed.

  “Let’s take a look at your shoulder, why don’t we?” Rohab helped Anoki sit up and began inspecting the shoulder in the firelight. “I don’t see any wounds and the bones don’t appear to be broken. Just bruised from the fall.”

  Calier laid his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Attacked by a night stalker and lived to tell about it. There aren’t many people who can say that.”

  “Tehome can’t say that tonight,” Denar said, moving back into the light of the fire followed by Ibris and Kan.

  They all looked at each other with knowing eyes. None of them wanted to imagine what Tehome had experienced before his death. Calier shuddered at the thought. He had been right next to Tehome. It could easily have been him in the grasp of the stalker.

  “Are they gone?” Onan asked.

  “For now,” Denar said. He rested the crossbow on his shoulder and looked into the dark trees. “One has his meal and the other was wounded by Maltoki. I don’t think they’ll be back tonight. After that…there are no promises. We’re in their territory and are subject to their whims. If they’re hungry they’ll feed on whatever is close by.”

  Bormar stood and embraced Maltoki. “You saved my son. There’s no way I can repay you for what you’ve given us.” Sulhan released her son’s hand and embraced Maltoki as well.

  “Lucky shot,” said Maltoki.

  “Luck has been something in short supply lately,” Ibris said. “But we’ll take whatever little bit we can get.” Ibris looked around the fire into the eyes of the frightened sojourners. “Tonight we keep the fire built up. No one goes outside of its light.”

  “Time to get to work people,” Denar said. “The stalkers have provided our next meal. Let’s get the umbaku cut up.”

  ****

  He looked straight at Calier. “Come on, Professor. Time you learned a useful skill.”

  They splashed through the muddy camp and out into the forest followed by several others. Leaving the relative safety of the fire was hard, but Calier knew Denar was right. Leaving the dead umbaku in the forest overnight just invited other predators to come near, and there was no denying how desperately they needed the meat. Calier walked quickly, trying to catch up to the long strides of Denar.

  Denar knelt beside the dead umbaku. There was a large, gaping wound in the animals side. Some of the umbaku’s organs spilled out of the wound and lay in the mud.

  Denar unsheathed a hunting knife. “The stalkers did some of the work for us, but there’s still plenty of good meat here. I’m going to show you how to skin this critter and butcher it.”

  “I guess you got your wish after all, Denar.”

  Denar stopped cutting and looked into Calier’s eyes. “I get the feeling you and the rest of the people in this group look at me as the unfeeling bastard who only wants what’s best for myself. That’s far from the case.” He turned back to the umbaku and began cutting through the hide around the front legs, freeing it from the muscle. “The reason I suggested we eat an umbaku is because it only makes sense. We’re starving. We can’t afford to be blinded by compassion for these animals when they’re a legitimate food source that will keep us alive.”

  “You’ve made it clear you think we’re all going to die, so why the desire to stay alive now?” asked Calier.

  “Oh, I still think we’re all going to die, but I don’t want to hasten its arrival. The desire to remain among the living is pretty strong in me, but I’d rather die in a fight taking out a few of the invaders instead of wasting away in this forest. Eating an umbaku seemed reasonable to me,” Denar said.

  “Okay. Good enough. You’ve made your case.”

  Denar looked at the others gathered around the animal. “Are you all just going to stand there?” He dug around in his pockets and pulled out a smaller folding knife and handed it to Calier. “Start doing the same thing on the rear leg. Cut the hide around the leg and then make a slit up the side. Once that’s done we’ll pull the skin off and up over the shoulders. There’s a lot of meat there. The rest of you go get some tarps to put this meat on so we can drag it back to camp. Once the professor and I get the umbaku cut up into smaller pieces, you lot take it back to the fire where we’ll get the meat off the bone.”

  The others moved back to camp to carry out Denar’s instructions. Calier and Denar worked in silence for a time. Calier’s fingers and hands were uncoordinated stumps compared to the deftness with which Denar worked.

  “Where did you learn how to hunt and dress game, Denar?” Calier asked.

  Denar tugged on the umbaku’s hide and revealed the heavily muscled shoulder. “My father. He was a big outdoorsman, lived for the hunt. Some of my best memories involve being out in the field with him. There was no need to talk, just be. I like that part.”

  With Denar’s help, Calier was able to get the skin cut away from the haunch he’d been working on. It was much larger than the shoulder. Denar helped him find the large tendon connecting the ball of the hip joint to the socket. They freed the haunch. The others had returned with a tarp. They laid the meat on the tarp, and the others dragged it back toward camp. Calier wiped his brow and then set to work on the shoulder, following Denar’s lead.

  “What did you teach at the university, Professor?”

  Calier straightened up a bit, surprised Denar would broach a topic of a personal nature. In the three weeks he’d known Denar, the man had limited his communication to only the necessary topics related to their journey.

  “History, specifically pre-Great Peace history,” Calier responded.

  Denar nodded. “The Brink War?”

  “Yes, but even before that. I was always interested in what happened to shi
ft us from one cohesive society to a splintered, warring one.”

  “Greed, I would imagine.”

  “That was definitely part of it,” Calier said.

  After freeing the shoulder, they rolled the animal over and began to work on the opposite side.

  “What did you do for a living, Denar?”

  “I was a writer.”

  Calier stopped working and tried to reconcile what he’d just heard with what he knew of Denar. “A writer?”

  “Don’t act so surprised, Professor. Is it that hard to believe?”

  “No… Well yes. You don’t strike me as a creative. I thought you would be more of a…

  “Bricklayer? Gardener? Maybe a sanitation worker?”

  Calier’s face reddened. “Well…I…”

  Denar waved him off. “It’s okay, Professor. You wouldn’t be the first person to make that mistake. While I do like to work with my hands and spend time hunting, stringing words together was where I made my living. Adventure stories and travel journals kept food on the table.”

  “Huh. I never would have thought it,” Calier said.

  “Yeah, I’m full of surprises.”

  They finished their work in silence, Denar having decided enough words had been said. They helped the others take the rest of the meat back to the camp.

  They worked through the night, separating the meat from the bone and roasting it over the fire. Amer volunteered to cook the meat, and as the day dawned, Ibris sent the rest of the group into the forest to forage for any edible plants they could find. It gave them something to do instead of wallowing in their misery and sorrow after the loss of Tehome.

  In the late morning, the group returned. Maltoki sat down next to Calier.

  “Hungry?” Calier asked Maltoki. Amer had just taken the meat off the spit and was cutting it into slices.

  “Yeah. I’ll take two eggs with runny yolks and a pastry from the bakery by the university, please.”

  Calier grunted, smiled, and stretched. His hand was cramped from gripping the small knife for hours.

  “How did it go?”

  “Not bad,” Maltoki said. “We found some of the kava root Oyeb told us about. Rohab also found a couple small trees that produced some sort of small nut. We shall eat like kings.”

  Calier inspected the young man’s face. Dark circles ringed his eyes and he had a faraway, exhausted look.

  “Have you had much sleep lately?” he asked Maltoki.

  “If by sleep you mean tossing and turning and wondering when a hideous creature is going to swoop down out of the trees to eat me, then yes. I had a wonderful night of sleep.”

  They let the glorious heat of the fire warm their bodies as they watched Amer finish cutting up the meat. Calier could see the voracious hunger in Maltoki’s eyes and knew he looked the same.

  Amer came to them, steaming meat piled high in one of the group’s pots. “Here you go, boys. Take a piece, there’s plenty for everyone.”

  Calier stabbed a piece with his knife and Maltoki slid a piece onto the small metal plate he kept in his pack. Maltoki stared at the meat.

  “So…umbaku meat.”

  “Yep,” said Calier.

  Maltoki was quiet for a second, and then he raised the meat in a salute. “To you, dumb animal. Thank you for getting yourself killed.”

  He placed the meat in his mouth and chewed.

  Calier watched him. “How is it?”

  “Terrible,” Maltoki grimaced. “And yet, the best thing I’ve eaten in quite a while.”

  The rest of the group gathered around Amer, gratefully taking slices of meat. It was the first real meal they’d had in three weeks, and they all ate until they were sated. The food seemed to bring a little life back into the camp, but the cloud of Nasia and Tehome’s deaths still hung over them.

  Ibris was in a hurry to get away from the spot where the attacks had taken place. After a short memorial service for Tehome, they wrapped the rest of the meat in the tarp and packed it away. It was time to put distance between themselves and the spot where they’d lost another friend.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The massive stone walls of the city seemed to grow up out of the ground. Like so many other things Dillion had seen so far on this planet, they were impressive. A full twenty-five feet high, the walls had probably been built in the civilization’s past to repel attackers. Rectangular cutouts were interspersed along the wall at regular intervals. Dillon could imagine soldiers leaning out of those openings and firing arrows into a horde of enemy combatants. Maybe they would have dumped boiling oil on their foes or some other horrific, primitive means of disfiguring their opponents.

  Dillon leaned against his harness, looking out of the open door of the Valkyrie. It was against regulations to have the doors open during flight, but he didn’t care. Shepherd hated him already, and as he had told Parker, he didn’t have any points left to lose with the colonel. A little more irritation would be good for the old man.

  The braking thrusters came on line and Mrs. Norris shuddered under the intense backwash caused by the powerful engines. There was still too much vibration for his liking. Maybe he could get a mechanic to look at the ship before they left the city. The Valkyrie touched down softly as the thrusters hissed to a stop. He addressed the men.

  “Let’s unload the cargo, and then we have twenty-four hours to kill while the ship is refueled and routine maintenance is performed. Temporary bunks have been set up for us. I’ve sent a map of their location to each of your handhelds. Meet back here at 0800 hours tomorrow. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” came the chorus of answers from the nine men.

  Dillon watched the stasis units being carefully loaded onto four-wheeled electric movers and slowly offloaded. Lined up in neat rows on the transport, the support personnel strapped down each of the valuable units. Dillon watched them until each unit was loaded and the transport slowly made its way out of the air base and into the city streets. His men drifted away in small groups. Some went to the mess hall and others disappeared into the city to see how an alien civilization lived.

  “Where are you headed, Commander?” Parker stepped up to his side and surveyed the city.

  “Oh, just thinking about going on a little adventure.” A small smile creased Dillon’s lips. “This city is where they bring the women. I’d like to see what it is they do to them. The medical facility isn’t far. Care to join in?”

  “I’m game. My only question is how are we going to get inside the medical facility without proper clearance?” said Parker.

  Dillon nodded to a supply vehicle half loaded with an assorted stack of boxes marked for delivery to the medical facility. “Support personnel never miss a break.” He looked at his handheld. They won’t be back for at least twenty minutes. I’ll bet they could use some help delivering these medical supplies, don’t you think?”

  Parker grinned and they both jogged toward the supply vehicle and climbed in. Dillon grabbed the wheel and pressed the pedal down. The vehicle sped out of the landing area and toward the medical facility. With any luck the vehicle wouldn’t be missed until they were safely inside.

  Parker leaned over the seat. “Do you know where you’re going, Commander?”

  Dillon held up a small scrap of paper with some hastily scribbled directions on it. “It pays to plan ahead.” He handed the paper to Parker. “Care to navigate?”

  “Where did you get this?” Parker said over the whine of engine.

  “In our new role, I’ve gotten to know most of the supply personnel. They like to talk and for the right price, you can get them to give up a little information as well.”

  “You’re good,” Parker said with mock admiration as Dillon smiled at him.

  Ten minutes later they had wound their way through several city streets with only one wrong turn. They stopped in front of a large building with massive stone steps leading up to its doors.

  “Grab a box,” Dillon said, hefting an aluminum case. “We ne
ed to look the part.”

  They ascended the steps and entered a brightly lit room. It was clear this was the waiting and admissions area of what used to be a hospital. The architecture was gorgeous and looked ancient. An arched ceiling stretched toward the sky as light in every color of the rainbow filtered down through stained glass skylights. Sculptures of men, women and children depicted scenes of everyday life. One statue was of a man tilling a field by hand. Another was of a mother and child reading together. The statues looked down from their perches high above the floor, fixed to the arch supports. With effort, Dillon tore his eyes away from the breathtaking beauty and picked out someone who looked like an administrative sort.

  He approached and cleared his throat. “Excuse me. We have supplies for the extraction program.”

  The older woman looked at him over the rim of her glasses. She eyed them suspiciously. “There is no order for extraction supplies today.”

  “They just came in with a transport from Command in Gadol City.” Dillon tried his best to sound convincing.

  “Gadol City? Using native names now, are we?” She looked at them again. “Down the hall second door on the left. Put them in the supply room and stay out of the extraction rooms. We don’t need you bumbling around in there and messing it up. And next time, use the loading ramp around back. That’s what it’s there for.”

  Dillon nodded his thanks, and the two set off down the hall. They bypassed the supply room and began looking through the windows on the doors.

  Parker checked the other side of the hallway. “I think I found something.” He pushed several buttons on the keypad in the door frame, but nothing happened. “That’s the end of this adventure unless you sweet-talked an access code out of your supply person.”

  Dillon reached in his pocket and produced a piece of paper. He began pushing buttons on the door. He stepped back as the door silently slid into the door frame. He tucked the piece of paper into his pocket and looked at Parker.