by David Boyle
Hayden turned to Charlie. “I’m sure they have a good explanation.”
“Like that’s gonna fill our stomachs.” Charlie was past being relieved. For the better part of however long Mark and Ron had been gone, they’d talked about the feast they were going to have. And now they were back to what, frogs and lizards? “They had a whole fuckin’ herd of ‘em, Prentler. I mean Jesus… how the hell do you blow a setup like that?”
Hayden was stumped, and if Wheajo had an answer he was keeping it to himself.
“We’ll just have to stretch what we’ve got,” Tony said, watching while Mark turned the canoe to shore. Even if he and Ron had been successful, Tony could see they were cutting it close. Another half hour and there wouldn’t be enough light to see.
Ron started the canoe toward the stump below the landing, Mark driving hard to ground the Tripper behind it.
“I take it things didn’t go like you planned,” Tony said.
The Tripper was topside and back where it belonged, Charlie waiting beneath the lean-to when Mark strode into camp. “This had better be good, Bennett. With what it sounded like here, you had to be lookin' at a whole herd of 'em. And you come back empty handed?”
“Give him a chance, Bull. There's got to be-”
“They had their chance. You heard ‘em, same as me, Tony. I mean... fuck! How can you not end up killin’ something when there's that many animals?”
“It's easy when you throw away the game plan,” Mark said, glancing at the fire. “The whys are a little harder. And for that you have to ask McClure.” He headed for the woodpile. “It was his idea not to go upriver.”
They all knew the plan, Charlie as well as anyone. “But I thought….”
“Yeah, so did I.”
Hayden, Ron, and Wheajo walked back from the landing. “We miss something?”
Charlie snorted. “All this time we’ve been wonderin’ how far upriver they went. And guess the fuck what? They didn’t.”
“And did Bennett bother to tell you why?”
“No, he didn't,” Charlie said, and folded his arms. “He said to ask you.” Mark was picking through the woodpile and warned anyone near the fire to stand clear.
“I’m totally confused,” said Tony, a branch tumbling across the ground. “You are talking about the little rapids, aren’t you?” Ron and Charlie nodded. “And you didn’t go past them?”
“What neither of these guys bothered to mention is how bony they are. Past the ledge it’s nothing but a damn rock garden, and I didn’t want to risk getting hung up on our way back. I mean, if we had killed something, we might not have been able to make it through with a couple hundred pounds of meat in the boat.”
“You use the term ‘we’,” Wheajo said. “Yet I have the impression the two of you did not agree on this course of action.”
“Bennett thought we could make it, and I didn’t. But it was me doing the shooting, so I figured it was my decision to make.” Another log skidded to a stop by the fire. “Maybe I was wrong not to keep going, but there’s nothing saying we would have ended up any better off. Either way, you need somebody to blame. Blame me.”
“I assure you my intent is not to judge,” Wheajo said, “but rather to understand the situation. Please continue.”
Another branch clattered by the fire pit. “So where’d you end up?” Hayden asked.
“You guys can BS all you want,” Mark yelled, rattling through the wood pile. “And in the meantime, somebody do us all a favor and get that shit on the fire.”
Tony peeked around the tarp. “Actually, I think you’ve got plenty here already. It’s not that dark. And we really don’t have much of anything to cook.”
Mark straightened up. “I wish that’s all there was to it,” he said somberly, staring off into the gloom. “But we’ve got lots bigger problems to deal with than what’s for dinner.” He did a slow scan of the forest.
“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying,” Tony said. “And what exactly are you looking for?”
Mark thought for a second. “You saw the dinosaurs in the river?”
“No,” Tony said, “but Hayden did. They were gone by the time I got to the landing.”
“There were five that got chased into the river,” Mark said. “The three here, and two more that made it to the island. Thanks to McClure here, we’re now sharing the island with a couple of terrified dinosaurs.”
Tony slumped back under the tarp, stunned. “Dear God, no.”
The conversation turned ugly with the revelation that they were no longer the sole inhabitants of the island, and it fell to Wheajo to take control of the discussion while Ron recounted recent events.
“…and two charge straight away and across the river,” he said. “Which surprised the shit out of me, especially when I realized the water there can’t be more than five feet deep. I turn back… and there she is. Never made a sound. Not a peep until—”
“There who was?” Charlie demanded.
“Sabrefang. Who else would I be talking about?”
“That’s just fuckin’ wonderful! Now we have—”
“I will condone no further interruptions. You will have adequate time to make your opinions known. However, and for the present, you will allow Mr. McClure to continue.”
Charlie was fuming. “Yeah well, you already know my opinion.”
“Indeed,” Wheajo said, then turning to Ron. “The beast was attacking you?”
“Us…? No. She had no idea we were there. The duckbills were spread out. Forty yards, something like that, a handful circling when the leaders came down and started bitching. Whether she’d been stalking them all along, or just waiting for one to come along, I can’t say. However that went, she came piling out of the trees and hammers one to the ground.
“Mark’s yelling; dinosaurs are splashing past the boat; Sabrefang with her foot pinning the fucker. And she starts sniffing. Like on the lake almost, only this time, I’m right there.” Ron swallowed. “I’m expecting a bite to the neck. But no, not her. Like where’s the fun in that? And instead she grabs hold of the bastard’s arm… and just like that”—he snapped his fingers—“rips the thing off.” He shook with a momentary chill. “There’s no way to describe it, but it's the kind of sound you never forget.”
Mark was nodding. “Yeah, that part’s gonna give me nightmares.”
“I already saw that once, and I wasn’t about to just sit there. So I shot her,” Ron said, the words eliciting gasps from both Charlie and Hayden. “And she comes around snarling. And bang, I shoot her again. But Bennett here is going ape shit and tips the damn boat before I can nail her again.”
“Why on earth did you do that?” said Tony, stunned by yet another revelation. “You had a—”
“You’ve been watching too many movies. Two rounds or six… hell, even reloading wouldn’t have made any difference. For all the hype, a .44 is still just a handgun. Good for bears maybe. And people. But an animal the size of Sabrefang? Shit, nothing short of a cannon is going to have much of an effect on her. And now she’s out there, wounded. And maybe she’s not hurting yet, but give it time—”
“She’s wounded because you didn’t let me finish her!”
“Considering that weapons such as yours kill by delivery of sufficient kinetic energy to cause tissue damage and trauma,” Wheajo said, “the very substantial size of the animal, and what I presume were less than ideal conditions, I must confess skepticism in your belief that you could kill the animal outright. Moreover, your statement that you were ‘not going to just sit there’ insinuates an emotional response.”
“Was I angry? Sure, but I couldn’t just—”
“I assure you, you could,” Wheajo said. “However, the actions taken cannot be undone, and we must now take the necessary precautions.”
Hayden was rearranging the fire. “When the time comes, I’ll take the first watch.” Tony’s eyes flitted about the forest. “Don’t freak out, okay? After being chased by Sabrefang,
they’ve got to be scared too. And no, there’s nothing stopping them from coming into camp.”
Tony jiggled another cigarette from the pack. “Wonderful.”
“And we’re still with almost nothin’ to eat,” Charlie scowled, rubbing his leg. “Nice goin’, guys. Got a couple of dinosaurs on the island. Sabrefang’s wounded. And who the fuck knows when we’ll have a chance to shoot somethin’ again?”
Rain splattered about the campsite, the tents as droopy as their spirits.
“Were your shots on target?” Wheajo asked, long moments later.
Ron shrugged. “It happened too fast. I think back, and maybe I could have snap shot that first round. But not the second. That time I had a good bead on her left side, shoulder high.”
“And her response?”
“She spun around. What else do you expect?”
“I expect clarification. Did her manner suggest a vital hit?”
“Best I can say is that she turned so fast that the arm went flying. Definitely pissed, but no more or less than you’d expect. Getting hit with a bullet isn’t anything like getting hit with that dawzon of yours. Gunshot reactions can range all over the map, so her reaction wasn’t all that unusual.”
“Especially when she’s as big as a house,” Mark mumbled under his breath.
Wheajo turned. “Does that constitute concurrence?”
“You could say that,” Mark said. “Keep in mind I was trying to get the hell out of Dodge at the time.”
“You doubt the beast was hit at all.”
“That’s not what I said. Ron hit her alright; once for sure and maybe twice. I just don’t think he hit her hard enough to do anything more than piss her off.”
“But she did not pursue you?” Both Ron and Mark shook their heads. Wheajo inquired about the kill site; the types and density of the nearby foliage, and whether the area itself was open or secluded. He asked if either had taken note whether Sabrefang had stayed to feed on the carcass; how big the hadrosaur had been; their estimate of how much its arm might have weighed; where in the clearing it had been thrown; and if the limb could be located.
“Forget it,” Mark said, thunder booming faintly in the distance. “By morning scavengers will be on it. That is unless Sabrefang objects.”
“Sabrefang isn’t going to stick around,” Ron said, from opposite the campfire. “Think about it. She’s probably already got a full belly, and is out there right now looking for a place to bed down and digest it. Hell, she’s not going to be hunting again for days. And even if she did find a place nearby, which, like I said I seriously doubt, why would she fucking bother with scraps?”
“You made your point, McClure.”
Wheajo calmly reiterated his question: “I asked whether you could locate it.”
Mark shrugged. “For what it’s worth, sure, I could find it. Hell, anybody could. Thing’s got to be… well, almost as big as me.”
“Very well,” Wheajo said. “And how soon can we expect the next herd to pass?”
“About as long as this one,” Charlie said, in no mood for mincing words. “Days at least. And seein’ as Sabrefang keeps stickin’ around… maybe never.” An uneasy silence fell about the campsite.
Charlie’s remark clearly wasn’t meant to be taken literally, still, just his having said it out loud—maybe never—struck a disturbing cord. Scrimping had gone a long ways toward stretching their original provisions, the effort viewed from the beginning as a means of supplementing the gains made via hunting. Game then had been plentiful, and the success or failure of any given outing had no lasting effect on their well-being.
Until now.
Hayden stepped away from the fire. “I have to admit,” he said, staring past the tents, toward the river, “having her around does have the potential of putting a serious damper on future prospects.” Eyes traded glances, heads nodding around the campfire.
“Perhaps. Yet I submit the future is nearer than you might suspect.”
Mark frowned. “And what’s that supposed to men?”
“We can retrieve the limb.”
“Like I said before, the scavengers will….” Mark saw the expression on his face. Wheajo didn’t mean later. “You can’t be serious. Paddle over there… now? In the dark?”
“Admittedly the endeavor is not without risk.”
Ron swept an arm at the blackness. “And who the hell do you think is stupid enough to go out there now?”
“We do have flashlights.”
“Good thinkin’, Tony.” Charlie couldn’t resist.
“What, are your batteries dead? Mine are still—”
“Delgado, think about what you’re saying,” Mark said, trying hard not to be obtuse. “Advertising would not be a good idea.”
“But without lights,” Tony countered, both flustered and confused, “how could you see where you’re going?”
“My visual acuity is not so limited as yours,” Wheajo offered. “I can be your eyes.”
“Right,” Ron said. “And what happens when Sabrefang comes charging out of the trees? You going to hold hands on your way to the boat? I don’t think so.” Ron shook his head dismissively, then stared through the smoke at Mark.
“Fuck, I’m not going anywhere. Maybe in the morning,” he said, turning to Wheajo, “if nobody shows up overnight. But now? Uh uh… I’m not that hungry.”
“You say that now,” Hayden said, strolling back from the landing. “But what if Bull’s right? For that matter, what if he’s wrong? What if it’s more than a week before another herd happens by?”
“It won’t be that long.”
“Yeah well, I wish I had your confidence, McClure. And I’m not pointing any fingers, but you guys had your chance, and you blew it. And shit happens, okay? I realize that. But it can happen again.” In the firelight Hayden could see the anger flare on Ron’s face. “Point is, Wheajo’s right. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he does have the eyes of a cat, and when Wheajo says he can see, I believe him.”
“You want to take a boat ride with Wheajo? Be my guest,” Ron said. “I’ll draw you a fucking map.”
“You need a third? Hell,” Charlie snorted, “I’ll go. I’m maybe not up to stompin’ around in the dark, but I can still paddle.”
“Thanks. But if what these guys said about that arm is true, the boat could end up overloaded.” Hayden stared at the fire. “What we need is a good bow paddler. Someone maybe not quite as heavy as you.”
Mark started catching glances. “Don’t look at me. I already said I’m not going.”
“You don’t think you could handle paddling in the dark?”
“Course I could handle….” Mark caught himself in mid-sentence. “Damn it, Prentler, don’t go twisting my words around.”
Hayden patted Wheajo’s shoulder. “Put together whatever you think we’ll need. Tony, try digging up that flashlight, just in case.”
“Prentler….”
“And where’d we put the lifejackets?”
Charlie waited until they cleared the deadfall before killing the light. “Good luck guys.”
“And be careful,” Tony added.
“That we will,” Hayden assured him, groping overboard and turning the boat. “Send out the troops if we’re not back in an hour.”
A light rain was falling; breezes whispered through the trees; and from downstream the rumble of the big rapid, a stomach-knotting reminder of what was in store should they somehow manage to tip the canoe. “An hour hell,” Mark groused, staring into the darkness, stroking. “We’ll either beat that or we won’t be back at all.”
“I missed that,” Charlie said from atop the landing. “What’d he say?”
“Mark was reminding us how much he enjoys paddling at night,” Hayden called over his shoulder. “Just keep the home fires burning, okay?”
“Ten four.”
*****
Hayden hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep since they’d arrived, and while laying in the tent at
night he had more than once heard splashing on the river. He’d even gotten out of bed a couple of times and, in each instance, had been assured by an always alert Wheajo that the noises were merely fish hitting the surface. Which was probably true considering none had ended up crawling into camp. Still, knowing what they were and how big would have been nice. All Hayden remembered now, staring into the inky darkness, was that they only seemed to feed at night.
“Mark…?”
“What?”
“The dinosaurs that come flying downriver every so often.”
“They’re not dinosaurs. They’re pterosaurs, which are a whole fucking separate family.”
Mark was still in a foul mood. No surprise there. “That’s great,” Hayden said. “But I’m wondering if there are any that can fly at night. You know, like bats?”
The Tripper cruised silently ahead.
“I don’t think so,” Mark said, skipping a stroke. “Why, you hear something?”
Hayden shifted his gaze, reaching out, feeling the soft resistance of the water against his paddle. Up, down, sideways, there was nothing but… well, nothing. Pitch black. Hell, it was darker than that. You could actually see pitch. “No, just… just wondering is all.”
A sharp thrust sent bubbles swirling along the boat. “Just wondering…. Do me a favor and keep that shit to yourself. I got the frickin heebie-jeebies on account of this paddling blind crap, and I don’t need you giving me anything more to worry about.”
Hayden nodded. Real and imagined, there were demons in the darkness, and he’d just managed to dredge up another one. “I’ll try to remember.”
“Yeah, you do that.”
“Your apprehension is understandable, but I can assure you we are alone.”
“Well well,” Mark drawled. “Nice to hear you’re still awake, Wheajo. I was beginning to think we left you behind. Our guide, remember? The guy who was supposed to be our eyes?”
“Perhaps I am mistaken, but I was unaware you needed my assistance. We are approximately equidistant from the shorelines, and on course to intercept the rapid. Positional information about which I believe you are already well aware.”
