by Avery Kloss
He tried to speak, blood dribbling out in a steady stream, the sound like a gurgle. “He can’t say anything.” I watched in morbid fascination, as he struggled to breathe, his chest bleeding profusely. “He won’t be with us for long.”
Kia screamed, the sound catching on the wind, her grief a difficult thing to witness. “Leave me! You go!”
Ara and I walked away, not knowing what else to do, passing the bodies of the other men. “We should try to bury them in a more dignified way,” I murmured.
“We will.” Ara glanced into the distance. “Do you still see them?”
A line of people walked in the base of the valley, far from where we were. “Yes.”
She lowered her head, tears falling. “What shall become of us now? We’ve no men who will hunt and provide. We’re alone again, and the cold season is coming.”
Kia’s screams resonated, startling several birds into flight. “I’ve never seen her like this.”
“She loved that man.” My mother knelt by Magnon, clutching his hand, while crying. “They were good together.”
“Let’s go inside. There’s nothing more we can do here. I’m weary of all of this.”
“Me too.”
We spent the day cleaning the cave, tossing sand upon wet earth soaked through with blood, and helping Kia bury Magnon, the woman’s eyes red-rimmed from crying. The grave wasn’t especially deep, the four of us working to gather rocks to place on top, while Kia rocked back and forth on her knees, tears streaming down her dusty face.
I hardly knew what to say to my mother, not realizing the strength of her emotions for Magnon. I stayed with her as long as I could, even bringing out a pelt for her, because the wind felt chilly, but she shooed me away.
In the cave, the fire blazed, Ara and Bena having gathered enough wood for the fast-approaching night, although we did not have much food, some dried meat and nuts, but come daybreak, we would be hungry. I sat on a pelt staring into the flames, while the weight of uncertainty clung to me.
“Whenever things are good,” said Ara softly. “It doesn’t last.” She sat by my side, her knee touching mine. “We were happy with the other clan. Then came the flood. Then we found this clan, and they took us in. I was happy here. I felt safe.”
“I did too.”
“It’s the perfect shelter.” She stared at the walls, the shadows of the fire flickering against the greyish stone. “It protects from the wind and the rain. It keeps us warm.”
“But … there’s no food.”
“There are things to eat, but not enough to see us through the cold season.”
I picked at a scab on my leg. “No.”
“What will happen now?”
“We’ll have to leave.” I hated that thought, knowing danger lurked or worse. We could die, but then again, death from starvation wasn’t appealing either. I worried over Kia, who had spent the better part of the day outside, crying over Magnon’s grave. “She should come in now and warm herself. She’ll get sick.”
Hanna sat nearby with Penua, but she could not understand us, as we had spoken in our language. I felt badly now, realizing we had left her out of the conversation.
“Our mother,” I said. “She should come inside.”
Hanna nodded. “Yes, she’s in a bad way, the poor woman.”
I wondered at her composure, and why she wasn’t crying over the men. “Were you Magnon’s wife?” Had Kia stolen him? With this tribe, it was difficult to tell who belonged to who, because everyone mated everyone, although couples did pair off, especially Kia and Magnon.
“I … was his wife until you arrived.” She shrugged, smiling slightly. “He liked Kia better. I’m not bitter about it. I didn’t have feelings for him. He might be the father of Penua, but then again, so might every other man here.” Then she frowned. “Well, they aren’t here anymore.”
Kia appeared in the doorway, which relieved me greatly. “Come sit with us.” I patted the pelt by the fire. She approached, sitting across from us, her expression blank, frozen in a look I could not describe. I grasped at a pelt, bringing it to her and placing it on her shoulders. “You’re cold. You need to get warm, Mamma. You can’t get sick.”
“She’s in shock,” murmured Hanna.
“Yes,” Ara agreed. “I’m sorry, Mamma. I'm sorry they killed your man. There were too many of them. We only had four.”
“The gods hate me,” she muttered.
“No,” said Hanna. “Our people are under threat. The white hunters are killing us all. They want to wipe the land clean of us. I’ve seen it before.” She glanced at her son, the boy playing with a beaded necklace, the one I had made him. “They would’ve killed you too, had you not hidden.”
“They would’ve taken you,” said Ara. She glanced at me. “Did you want to go?”
I gasped. “Of course not! Why would I wish to go with a band of marauding heathens? Killers?”
She shrugged. “They might know where Ronan and Enwan are. I know how you miss them.”
“I miss my old tribe. I miss everyone.”
“I don’t. They were never kind to us. They fed us, but they didn’t include us in anything. We were strangers looking in from the outside.”
“That’s over and done with,” said Kia. She sniffed. “I don’t hold a grudge anymore. They fed us at least.” She closed her eyes, her head swaying. “We must leave come sunrise.”
“Isn’t there some way to stay?” I asked. “I adore this cave. It’s wonderful. I wish I could hunt and provide, so we may stay in comfort.”
“You’d be eaten on sight,” said Ara, a smile lingering around her mouth. “A snack for a big cat is what you’d be.”
“I just don’t want to leave.”
“We have to find another clan,” said Mamma. “It’s the only way to survive the cold season. I’ve been thinking on it. I don’t wish to go in the direction of the white men. We should walk towards the mountain. There might be something there.”
A prickle of excitement drifted through me, knowing how Ronan spoke of the mountain and beyond, saying the land was green and fertile, with prairies, clean water, and abundant game. “Yes, let’s do that.”
Hanna gave Kia a basket. “Here. It’s some dried meat. You should eat.”
“Thank you.” She ripped off a piece, chewing, but her eyes shone dully, tired and red. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
I slept fitfully, hearing my mother’s cries during the night, her sobs echoing in the dim chamber. Wracked with worry and fear, I dreaded the sunrise, knowing we would have to leave the shelter, throwing ourselves upon the mercy of the unknown. I longed for a permanent home, somewhere warm and safe, where I could live for many seasons. Such a dream seemed unattainable.
At daybreak, the baby waking us with his fussing, we set about the task of leaving, each person with a basket around their shoulders and carrying an assortment of pelts. We tied thick hide to our feet and leather skirts to our waists, draping furs over our necks. Having little need for a fire, we left the chilly cave as the first streaks of light appeared on the horizon, turning our attention to the smoking mountain and the vast grassland, which teemed with game.
Every woman carried a spear, having taken them from our fallen clansmen, the tips being dangerously sharp. With the wind at my back, golden hair fell about my shoulders, where I wore a soft fur. I inhaled the aroma of adventure, taking it deep into my lungs, yet the excitement was tempered by regret and sorrow.
Kia tried her best to remain strong, but she cried often, tears running down her cheeks at various times. She wept all night as well, her eyes red and tired-looking. We foraged as we walked, plucking edibles from the ground and berries from bushes. We drank from crystal clear streams, the water spilling over waterfalls and rocks. The cold season brought with it rain, and we sat beneath a rocky outcropping to avoid the worst of it.
“How are you?” asked Hanna. She touched Kia’s knee.
“I’
m tired.”
“I worry about the babies you and I carry.”
“How are you?” Kia stared at her. “I’ve not asked that. I’m sorry. You’re in the same condition. I'm not a good friend right now.”
“I understand. You don’t have to apologize.”
I huddled with Bena and Ara, the baby between us. He took the trek well, wearing a furry shift with fur around his feet. His babbling filled the air, a happy sort of sound, reminding me of pleasanter days.
“We need to look for shelter,” said Hanna. “We’ve crossed the prairie, but we’ve further to go. We might be able to see a fire tonight. That’ll tell us if another clan is about.”
“What if they’re hostile?” I asked, worried about our safety, the horror of what had happened still so fresh in my mind.
“We’ll watch carefully.” Hanna sighed. “There are more of our kind. Those white hunters won’t kill us all.”
We spoke in her language, but some words I failed to understand. “I hate the white men,” I spat. “I hate them.”
Kia took my hand. “There are good and bad people of either race, Peta. I don’t know why those men came to destroy us. It could just as easily have been one of the big cats. Every hunt is dangerous. All of our men died in a flood, most of the women and children too.” She appeared thoughtful. “You never know when the gods decide to wreak havoc and for what purpose. We have no control over their whims.”
“I want to go back to the cave,” muttered Bena, her lips trembling. “I’m cold.”
“The rain has stopped,” said Hanna. “We should walk. I’m warmer when I walk.”
Ara had positioned several big leaves in the rain, reaching for one carefully, drinking the fluid. I did the same, as did Hanna and Bena, the baby having water too. We ventured from the rocky outcropping a short while later, the air smelling of wet dirt and grass. The rain brought out the animals, the sounds of birds chirping in the trees, while a family of stags silently crossed a grassy field, their ears perking up when they saw us. Before nightfall, we used heavy tree branches to make a shelter, covering them with hide and lighting a fire. Sitting in the cold with a pelt around my shoulders, I cursed our changed circumstances, wishing to be in a comfortable cave again.
By morning, having slept fitfully, some animal stirring around us all night long, we emerged from the shelter. Ara and I foraged with Bena, while the women stayed to gather our things. Eating nuts and berries, we set out again, marching silently across an enormous expanse of grassland, the smoking mountain drawing nearer.
After stopping to rest at midday, I felt a prickle of unease, my senses warning me of danger. We sat in a circle in the middle of a vast field, having stopped so Hanna could feed Penua. Getting to my feet, I glanced about slowly, pausing every so often to look at something twice, three times. Then I spied movement in the grass, something the color of the golden meadow …
“What’s the matter?” asked Ara. “What do you see?”
Swallowing a lump of fear, I saw two more of the creatures, the third being the smallest. “We’re being stalked.”
Hanna jumped to her feet, holding Penua. “What do you mean?”
“The big cats.” I pointed. “There they are. They know we’re here.”
“Will they just go away?” asked Bena, her eyes wide. Gripping a spear, her knuckles turned white around the shaft.
“I don’t know. We should prepare ourselves.” I had never come this close to one of the ferocious animals, clansmen having spoken of how they ate and mutilated their victims. We had been attacked at the old clan, the memory of it dancing in my mind, but we had seen it at a distance, the woman and her baby being the prey.
“We should’ve stayed at the cave,” cried Bena. “We’ve no business being out in the open like this.”
Standing near the base of the big mountain, we planned to cross it by nightfall—if we survived. “Just prepare. Be watchful. Maybe they’ll go away.” But, even as I said that, the creatures cut a path through the grassland, slowly working their way towards us. In that moment, I experienced terror—my body trembling from the top of my head to my toes, while my mouth went dry. “Prepare,” I whispered, knowing I was about to die. We would not survive this.
Ara glanced at me, the fear upon her face reflected on my own. “The gods have passed their final judgment. I’ve loved you, sister.” Tears formed in her eyes. “I’ll be forever with you. I love you, Mamma.”
“Don’t speak like that,” I admonished. “Please … we can’t lose hope.” But I knew there was no hope, not now.
“We fight,” said Kia, her look grim. “I love you, my children, you know that. If we don’t succeed, we’ll meet again in paradise.”
I swallowed painfully, my throat constricting. “I love you, Mamma.”
Hanna strapped Penua to her back, the baby blissfully unaware of the danger. She held a spear, her eyes wild. “If I’m to die, I won’t go easily. I’m prepared to do whatever I must.”
Kia and Bena each held a spear, Bena crying openly, her lower lip protruding. “I don’t want to die,” she sobbed.
The cat nearest to us growled, the sound sending terror through me, and I nearly dropped the spear out of fright. An instinct to run emerged, so strong, I nearly did run, but that would be a mistake. We waited for the cats to appear, the air suddenly thick with tension, my chest pounding in my ears.
“Where are they?” whispered Ara.
“I don’t know.”
“Get in a circle,” said Kia. “Be brave, girls. If we show them we’re not easy marks, they’ll go elsewhere.”
I wondered if that was true, but then doubted it. With my back to Bena, I felt her trembling, the girl utterly terrified. We had every reason to fear for our lives, this being the closest I had ever come to losing mine. A whirr of brownish fur flew before me, a growl cutting through the air. One of the cats jumped from the grass, standing near, growling.
“Away with you!” shouted Kia, thrusting the spear at the animal. “Away!”
Another came in the other direction, then another, until three predators growled and sniffed, their eyes flashing darkly. I wondered if I might lose consciousness, suddenly feeling lightheaded. Stabbing at the air, I doubted our spears were any match to their prowess. One of the cats approached, Hanna slicing him in the shoulder, the animal growling, but he would not leave.
“Go away!” The baby began to cry. “Get away from me!”
Ara screamed, having been swiped at with a sharp paw, blood appearing on her leg. “No!” she cried, jabbing at the creature with a spear.
A terrific scream rang out then, a cat having caught Bena’s leg. Solid jaws and sharp teeth embedded deeply in the skin. It dragged the girl into the meadow. Stunned, yet ready to fight, I held the weapon before me, running after them.
“No, Peta!” shouted Kia. “No!” The other two cats bounded by, chasing after the one that had taken Bena, the girl screaming. Kia grabbed my arm, stopping me. “Run! Run now!”
“What about Bena?”
“It’s too late. Run!”
Hanna and Ara raced by, Kia pulling on me. “Run!”
Instinct took over, a surge of energy breathing life into my legs, my feet pounding into the ground. I had never moved this fast before, grass hitting me in the face, as I outpaced the other women, even Ara not being able to keep up. We cleared the field a moment later, coming to a halt in the woods, but Hanna continued to run, the baby bouncing on her back. In our haste to flee, we lost the baskets and the pelts. The only belongings we carried were on our persons, and they were slim indeed.
“Are we safe now?” asked Ara. “I lost the spear.”
By some miracle, I still held mine. I could barely breathe, my chest rising sharply with each gulp of air. I bent over at the waist, tears filling my eyes. Bena did not scream any longer, the silence ominous. Riddled with guilt, I still knew we could not have saved her, but I still felt dreadful.
“Let’s go,” said Kia somewhat to
nelessly. “There’s nothing to be done about it. We need to find shelter for the night.”
I followed miserably, my feet throbbing, the muscles in my legs protesting. Exhausted and traumatized, images continued to flash before my eyes, and the sounds of Bena’s screams repeating in my mind, over and over. I relived the horror, every moment of it, tears blinding me. A hand fell to my back.
“I need you to help us find shelter, Peta.” Mamma nodded, a steely look in her eye. “We’re not dead. Your sister’s injured, yet she’s still walking.”
Ara tied leather to her wound, with dried blood running down the length of her leg. “Yes,” I murmured, sounding detached and dull. “We survived.” But, what would happen the next time?
“It was stupid to stop in an open field,” said Hanna. “So stupid. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
“We won’t do that ever again,” said Kia. “Look for a good spot to shelter for the night. I don’t see anything here. We might have to walk further.”
A cushion of pine needles felt soft beneath my feet, my breathing easier now. I glanced at the forest, but warily, watching for movement, my eyes darting back and forth. Walking in a line, we drifted deeper, seeing knotted burr wood from old-growth trees and dense foliage beneath. The smell of some sort of flower left a pleasant aroma, reminding me of better days. Water trickled from a source unseen, which might provide a relief to thirst, my throat parched. No one said a word for a long while, even the baby quiet. Then I smelled the distinct aroma of burning wood.
“I smell fire,” said Ara.
“So do I.” Hanna walked ahead. “I see something.”
Instantly on guard, I drew back, hiding behind a tree. Grasping the spear, I eyed every tree in the vicinity, seeing something odd in the distance. “We should be careful. They might be white men.”
“You and Ara go,” said Kia. “Go quietly, and find out what it is.”
Stepping onto dried leaves, I walked carefully, not wishing to snap a branch beneath my foot. Ara did the same, her knees slightly bent, a determined look on her face. She held the spear before her, taking measured steps. As we neared, I spied some sort of structure through the trees, the smoke of a cooking fire coming from this place. I took one more step, only to hear a loud snap, the branch beneath my foot breaking. I fell then, tumbling into a big, dark hole, where I landed hard, my leg throbbing in pain.
