Survivor: World of Monsters 2

by Michael Brightburn

“Then we’d have to move them every time we left. And what if we slipped and impaled ourselves on them? Death by spike pit.”

  She frowned at him, then realized what he meant and shook her head. “No, not on the path. In the gate itself.”

  Cal nodded slowly. “That’s actually a good idea.”

  She glanced at him. “Of course it is. Doughboy.”

  21

  “We’re back,” Cal called over the top of the gate.

  “You get the log?” Mirabelle asked as she removed the bracing.

  “Yeah.” He grabbed the gate, pushing it open. “It was already waiting for us.”

  “What do you mean?” Eliza asked. She was sitting by the tree, Rufus sleeping next to her as she worked on the alien carapace armor.

  “We found it already sliced clean off by something.”

  “By what?”

  Cal shrugged, shutting the gate behind Imogen. “That the armor?” he asked Eliza.

  She held up the black alien carapace in front of her bare chest. “What do you think?”

  “That that’s not going to fit me.”

  “Fit her,” Mirabelle said. “She needs something to cover up with.”

  “Oh?” Cal asked.

  “So she doesn’t get cut up again. She’s our spear-wielder.”

  Cal nodded, thinking that protection wasn’t the main reason that Mirabelle wanted Eliza covered up.

  “Or she could just use a bow,” Cal suggested.

  “No,” Mirabelle said quickly. “She needs armor.”

  Cal grinned, looking at Eliza as she returned to work on the carapace.

  He realized she had been naked now for quite a while.

  Not that he was complaining, not at all. He was more than happy to have her walk around naked for as long as she wanted. Forever, even.

  “Hey,” he said, frowning, noting Eliza was even more naked now than she had been before he’d left, “your leaves.”

  Mirabelle sighed. “I changed them. Some of the wounds had healed enough that they don’t need leaves. But not the ones that would be covered by her clothes, of course.”

  “Already?” Cal asked in amazement. That was some fast healing.

  Eliza smiled. “Only a few of the cuts were all that deep. Those leaves must have sped up the healing process. Or the Tylenol flower.”

  “Ready?” Imogen called.

  Cal turned to see her standing at the gate, holding the freshly lengthened coil of rope they had made from the nettle roots.

  “We didn’t come up here to socialize. We still have a log to move.”

  “You’re in a rush,” Cal said as they walked down to the base of the path.

  “I want to get this in place and start on those spikes.” She uncoiled the end of the rope, nodded at the log. “Lift that.”

  He did, lifting the large, heavy branch as she ran the rope under it.

  “Okay.”

  He set it down, watching as she tied it off, impressed with how quickly she made the knot.

  “What are you thinking? Spears?”

  She cinched it then stood. “Yeah. We could carve out little notches, so the spikes could serve dual purposes.”

  “Dual purposes?” he asked as she payed out the rope while walking back up the path.

  “We could use them for deterrence spikes, but then also make holes that we can stab through instead of having to go over the top.”

  “But it’s easy to see over the top.”

  “For you. And not if we make the gate taller it won’t be.”

  “We can build a walkway, one of those things on the top like a castle. What are they called? Gantries?”

  “That’s a long way in the future. And it still wouldn’t help with stabbing things at the gate.”

  Cal smiled to himself that she thought there was a future at all.

  For a while there he’d been worried that she would… not kill herself, but let herself get killed.

  Which wasn’t hard on this alien world.

  They reached the open gate.

  “Ah fuck,” she said, staring down the path.

  “What?” Cal asked, not seeing anything to warrant the exclamation.

  “One of us needs to be down there.”

  “Why?”

  “To pull the log up.”

  “No we— Oh, you mean one of us push while the other pulls? That’s still dangerous.”

  She shook her head. “To make sure the log stays on the branches.”

  Cal stared down at the large branch the size of a tree trunk sitting at the bottom of the path on top of numerous smaller branches, ready to be pulled up. “Huh. Yeah, maybe.”

  “No maybe.” She sighed, started heading back down.

  “You’re gonna do it?”

  “You’re stronger, so it makes more sense for you to pull the log up while I make sure it doesn’t fall off.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “You’re so smart,” she said with a grin.

  “I know. I hope I don’t make you feel too inferior.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  She reached the bottom, checked the log was aligned on the branches, then made a spiral motion with her finger in the air for him to start pulling.

  It was hard going at first, but soon all the extra smaller branches on the main branches had broken off and the log rolled smoothly up the hill.

  For a few feet anyway. Then the branches ran out.

  22

  “I guess we’re both idiots,” she said, staring at the pile of branches behind the log, which now rested a few feet up the path.

  “In my mind for some reason I was thinking the branches would move along with it all the way up.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” She looked at him. “You’re rubbing off on me.”

  They stared at each other, the double entendre hanging heavy in the air.

  “Come on,” Cal said, before his erection could become noticeable, “help me pull it up.”

  “I could move the branches in front as you pull.”

  He shook his head. “It will take longer than both of us working to just pull it up. We’ll figure out something else later. I want to get those spikes started for the door. I don’t think the aliens are going to be able to jump this far anyway. We can wait on finishing the palisade. Gate’s a higher priority.”

  “And what if they climb up the sides of the cliff? We can fend eight off at the path, but what about when there’s one hundred and twenty-eight coming for us?”

  “It’s a natural chokepoint. Besides, if they can climb up the sides of the cliff, I don’t think a palisade would stop them.”

  She scuffed her foot on the path. “Wood’s harder than the sides of this are made of. It would at least slow them down. And completing the circle makes it more stable.”

  Cal nodded. It was the reason he wanted to finish the entire palisade in the first place: to make the entire thing stronger.

  But now, knowing they could climb over the six-foot-tall gates, he wanted to improve those. That was the weak point right now, so that was what they needed to work on first.

  Besides, they’d just had a wave, so based on the past ones, that meant they had a while before the next.

  “Come on,” he rallied. “With my upgraded strength and both of us pulling, this will be a cinch.”

  23

  “Oh fuck me,” Imogen said, collapsing to the dirt as Cal took hold of the log and pulled it the rest of the way through the gate.

  Rufus startled awake, saw Imogen lying on the ground, and immediately popped to his feet and ran over to lick her face. Because clearly that was what a tired person needed to wake them up.

  She sat up, pushing him away.

  “Aww,” Eliza cooed, “he likes you.”

  “Ugh, you’re not helping,” she complained.

  “Want me to start digging a hole for that?” Mirabelle asked Cal.

  He shook his head. “No. Keep making arrows. Imogen had an idea for the gates. We can add spikes
to them so those things have a harder time climbing over and getting in.”

  “Oh, that could work. I can go get more flint. The arrows with arrowheads from those pierced their carapace easier than the sharpened wooden points of the ones without them.”

  “Can we use those too?” Eliza asked, pointing at the talons and “teeth” from the mouthparts she’d pulled from the monsters.

  Mirabelle nodded. “Maybe. Kinda big and smooth, but we can try.”

  “Okay.” He wiped his sweaty forehead, letting out a breath. “Let’s get to work.”

  “Holy God,” Imogen said. “Can we take a break first? It’s hot as hell.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m the one complaining. What are you, superhuman?”

  Cal grinned. “Basically.”

  24

  It fell to Cal to gather more water while the others chowed down on the little remaining food they had. “Save some for me.”

  At least he had the basket and rope to use and didn’t have to walk down the steep rear path or around the hilltop.

  As soon as he dumped it in one of their troughs, Rufus dove for it, lapping it up and filling the bowl with spit bubbles.

  “Well, I guess that’s the dog bowl,” Cal said, and went back to get more.

  “Poor baby,” Eliza said. “I didn’t even think to give him water. I’m a terrible dog-mommy.”

  “Dog-mommy?” Mirabelle asked.

  As Cal poured water into a second trough, Rufus went for this one too.

  Cal put his foot out to stop him, pushing him back. “Nuh-uh, you got your own bowl.”

  “Come here boy,” Eliza called lightly.

  The dog instantly forgot about the water and rushed over to her.

  She grabbed a tuber and handed it to him.

  He took it, chomping happily.

  Cal looked at the pile of food. “Running low again.”

  “I’ll gather more,” Eliza said.

  “No, you’re hurt.”

  “I’m fine. Really. Look, none of them are even infected.” She held out her arms to show him the healing cuts.

  “Are you sure?”

  Eliza smiled. “I’m sure.”

  So they finished and Eliza went out to get more fruit, Rufus going with her, which made Cal feel better. To be honest, Rufus was probably a better protector for her than he was.

  Mirabelle went down to the stream, gathering more flint from the area while Cal and Imogen worked on carving notches between branches in the gate using the monsters’ talons. They actually worked quite well for the task.

  “You’re making that one too big,” Cal said to Imogen.

  “No I’m not. This is for stabbing through.”

  “Ah.” Cal nodded in agreement. “Any other brilliant warfare ideas? You don’t happen to know how to make gunpowder do you?”

  “Actually I do.”

  “Really? You do?”

  “Yeah. Not that there’s anything around here to make it from.”

  “Oh,” Cal said, deflating.

  “I wouldn’t mind a bow though,” she said.

  Cal pried apart the branches of the gate, then wedged the blunt end of a spear in, testing its fit. Almost there. “You know how to shoot one?”

  “A bow? Not as well as Mirabelle. But yeah. And I’d be better with it than I am with a spear.”

  Cal nodded, glad she was finally coming around and joining in, becoming a true part of the group.

  She’d helped out before, done her part, but it had been silently, and she’d only done what they had asked of her. Now she was coming up with her own ideas.

  And talking, which was even better.

  She’d never get over losing her family, but at least the worst of the grief was passing.

  A while later Mirabelle came back up with more flint. She had used Eliza’s top to hold them, since Eliza didn’t seem to have any need for it.

  Not long after, Eliza and Rufus came back, the basket full of food.

  Rufus immediately grabbed a fruit from it as soon as she set it down and began tossing it around, half eating, half playing.

  Then all four of them worked on carving notches and holes into the gate for spears to lock in or slide through.

  By the time the second sun had set, the rear gate was a deadly spiked wall.

  “Not bad,” Eliza said. “We need to make more spears now though. Which means we need to get more branches to make them with.”

  “And another bow,” Cal said, looking at Mirabelle. “Can you make one?”

  She smiled at him. “Why? You want me to teach you how to shoot?”

  Cal frowned. “Actually, yeah. But no. I mean yes but—”

  “I know how to shoot,” Imogen said. “I’d fare much better with that than with a spear.”

  Mirabelle smiled happily. “Of course. I’ll make you one. You probably want one a bit bigger than I have, since you’re taller than me.”

  “I don’t know how to make them or how they work,” Eliza said. “Just how to shoot them.”

  “No problem.” She looked at Cal. “And if I can find a stick big enough, I’ll make one for you too.” She looked at Eliza, raising an eyebrow.

  Eliza shook her head. “I have way more experience with spears. There’s no way I can catch up and become even half as competent with a bow.”

  “I’ll make you one anyway. Might as well. Even if you don’t use it, it can be a backup.”

  25

  Cal looked around the base as they sat down to eat. “Damn.”

  “What?” Mirabelle asked.

  “I wanted to make a fire.”

  “Why doughboy, you cold?” Imogen asked.

  The other two women looked at her, surprised at her teasing tone.

  “To cook the food.”

  Mirabelle let out a moan of desire that made Rufus pop his head up and stare at her, head tilted. “Oh my God. Cooked food. French fries.” She held up a tuber. “These would make great french fries I bet.”

  “Nothing to fry them in,” Imogen observed.

  “I’m sure we could find a fatty fruit,” Eliza offered.

  “I wish I could find a cow,” Cal said.

  “There’s one right here,” Mirabelle said, looking at him.

  “Me?”

  “Yeah. Cow, Cal. They sound the same.”

  “No they don’t.” He mouthed the words to himself, frowned.

  Mirabelle laughed at the look on his face. “See, they totally do. Cow Cal. Like the same thing.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” he said, still frowning. “They’re spelled totally differently.”

  “It also kind of sounds like cowl,” Eliza said.

  “How bout we stop making fun of my name and think about how we can start a fire?”

  “I can start one if you want,” Imogen offered.

  “Really?”

  “We’ve got sticks, wood shavings, and plenty of kindling. It’s all we need.” She wasn’t the type of person to say ‘duh’, but it was implied by her tone. “Thought you were a Boy Scout?”

  “In a movie.” Cal’s mind flashed back to the scene in Solitude where he’d had to start a fire.

  But it’d only been that one scene where it’d shown him starting one. He remembered using a stick and something like a small bow to spin it, but it hadn’t actually worked, and in the end they’d just used a lighter.

  Mirabelle set her partially eaten tuber back in the basket. “I’m waiting to cook it then.”

  “All right.” Imogen got up and went over to Mirabelle’s bed.

  “Hey,” Mirabelle objected. “What are you doing?”

  “I need something for starter,” Imogen answered, taking some of Mirabelle’s bed.

  “Why are you taking it from mine?” she whined.

  “Don’t worry, I just need a handful.”

  Mirabelle let out a small sigh, clearly dismayed at losing even a bit of cushioning from her bed.

  Imogen next went over to where Mirabell
e carved her arrows.

  “Hey,” Mirabelle called, “don’t even think about it.”

  “Just the shavings,” Imogen said, gathering them up.

  Then she got some of the larger shavings from sharpening the spears and came back to join them. She glanced up at the tree canopy overhead, nodded once, then set up a little fire ring.

  She piled some moss on one of the larger shavings, pressed the end of the spear against it, and began twisting, rubbing her hands down the shaft, shifting Cal’s mind to things other than starting fires.

  And indirectly starting one in his loins.

  Soon smoke began rising from it and she took the smoldering moss and put it in the fire pit, bending down to blow on it as the ember glowed bright red and caught fire.

  Eliza and Mirabelle clapped, then Mirabelle got up and grabbed one of her arrows that didn’t yet have an arrowhead stuck on it and skewered the tuber on it, holding it out over the fire.

  “Makes me want marshmallows,” Cal mused. “And a steak.”

  “Going to take a long time to cook like that,” Imogen said. “Cut it into disks and it will cook faster.

  Mirabelle’s face lit up. “Ooh, like french-fry disks.” Then it fell. “But we don’t have any oil.” She shrugged. “Oh well.” Then got to work sawing through them with a piece of sharpened flint from one of her arrows.

  As they held their potato-disk skewers over the fire, Mirabelle kept casting glances at Eliza.

  “What?” Eliza finally asked with a laugh.

  Mirabelle shook her head.

  “Go on.”

  “It’s just, you’re still…”

  “I’m still… What?”

  “You know.” She motioned at her. “Like that.”

  “Naked?”

  She nodded.

  “Putting clothes on over these bandages would just rub them off.”

  Cal’s mind instantly went to another kind of rubbing off. Stupid man-mind.

  “So you’ll get dressed again when you’re healed?” Mirabelle asked.

  “If it bothers you so much.”

  “I’m not from the future like you are.”

  “You could be. Time travel.”

  “I have to say,” Cal said, “even working with actors, I’ve never encountered someone as comfortable with being naked as you are.” He looked at Eliza’s nude body, her bared breasts and uncrossed legs, the fact that she made no attempt to cover herself and clearly didn’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed as the fire lit her sunkissed skin.