Intrepid

by Nate Johnson

  But nothing seemed to work. He had caught one animal in three weeks, and that was probably by accident. Even the animal kingdom had to have their share of idiots. Hell knew the human world had enough.

  Gathering the necessary wire from inside the shuttle had been a breeze. While nobody laughed when he told them his plans, they didn’t jump up and offer to help either. He got that fluttery worried feeling in the pit of his stomach again. It showed up whenever he thought about their situation.

  People were getting lazy. They sat around the fire and bitched. Nobody was planning for a long stay.

  He pushed another limb out of the way and slithered between two trees. Turning his head to make sure he could see the notches on the trees behind him. Then searching for the next one in front.

  He had learned a valuable lesson the first time coming in. It was ridiculously easy to get lost. He hadn’t gone more than twenty yards that first time. He had set his first snare and stood up to head further in when he realized he couldn’t tell in from out. A cold sweat had broken out on his back, and he had yelled at the top of his lungs for a good thirty minutes before accepting the fact that no one would ever hear him.

  His heart racing, he had stumbled around in the forest for hours before accidently finding the edge of the tree line a good mile upstream of the camp. He had pushed his way out and fallen to the ground gasping for air.

  He didn’t say anything to anyone about the whole thing. Just quietly entered the camp and pretended like nothing had happened. He had been shocked when Jo had mentioned something about his still having snares tied to his belt. He had quickly mumbled something about spares and not needing them yet.

  Two days later he had gone back in, cutting an arrow blaze into a tree as he went. Always making two marks, one showing the way in, the other the way out. Shivering at the memory of what being lost felt like, he refocused on finding the second snare.

  A shocking splash of red caught his eye. He hurried over and another tripped snare. This time covered in blood but no animal. Nor tracks in the moldy leaves that covered the forest floor. He had actually caught something before some predator had come along and taken it.

  A flash of pride spread to his heart to be replaced by a rising sense of anger. Something had taken his prize. It wasn’t fair, he had done the work, set the snare and some lowlife had come along and stole it. The personal affront shook Jonathan to the core. It was as if someone had taken credit for his science project.

  Trying to shake it off, he reset the snare before continuing on the path. Two more traps had been raided by this unseen creature. Each time Jonathan felt his blood boil, and a feeling of pure anger washed over him. He continued down the line, marking new trees as he went farther into the forest than he had ever gone before.

  Jonathans froze in place as a sense of alarm traveled up his spine. His shoulders hunched and eyes narrowed as he searched for the reason. It took him a moment to realize that someone had turned off the sound.

  The normal high pitched warbling buzz that permeated the forest had disappeared. The usual cast of insects and birds had stopped completely. It seemed like even the canopy had stopped rustling in the wind. He gripped his spear and pulled his knife from his belt before dropping to one knee.

  The complete strangeness of his surroundings struck him again like a pillow to the face. What have you gotten yourself into he wondered? He decided it might be best to silently back up and get the hell out of there.

  Before he could move, a soft slithery sound interrupted the afternoon. He spun on his heels and faced the thing that was sneaking up from behind.

  A monster from his nightmares, some kinds of a snake with legs confronted him. At least seven feet long and as big around as his thigh. The animal looked like the model for a Chinese dragon. Red and brown with mottled green thrown in. The creature had a long pointy snout with flaring nostrils searching the air for the prey’s scent.

  Jonathan’s mouth went dry, and his heart forgot to beat before racing off into the stratosphere. The thing had actual fangs as thick as tusks that dripped yellow saliva. They looked like they carried enough poison to knock off a small city.

  Every part of his being was yelling at him to run, get away. But the damn thing was between him and his blazed trail. If he ran, he’d be eternally lost in the forest maze and never get out. The idea of being trapped inside the forest with this thing, and possibly his brothers, sent a terror panic though out his body and made him want to throw up right there and then.

  Taking a deep breath, he tried to assess his situation. He remembered Erik telling him that the trick was to set aside your fear and to think. A lot easier said than done. He tried to swallow again, but his mouth seemed to refuse to make saliva. The damn beast was obviously making more than enough for both of them.

  The animal’s four legs propelled it forward on its stomach. They didn’t appear enough to keep it up off the forest floor but were enough to move it along. How fast could it be?, Jonathan wondered. Maybe it’s a carrion eater.

  You know one of those animals that aren't fast enough or strong enough to kill on its own, it just raids other kills, or waits for things to die and fall out of the trees. He could feel his hope going up, but then the beast suddenly lunged to the side and grabbed a dragonfly out of mid-air.

  Well, slowness was obviously not a weakness.

  Taking a quiet step backwards, he brought his spear to throwing position, but hesitated. If he didn’t kill the thing, he’d only have the puny knife left. And, that would require him getting way to close to those fangs. Dropping it back down to his waist, he sheathed his knife and held the spear with two hands, waiting for the animal to make its next move.

  Its head turned back and forth as if searching, its nostrils opening and closing. Obviously, it relied heavily on smell here in the dark forest. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. Did it have any idea what humans smelled like? Maybe the uncertainty would hold it back. He let out another breath and fought to control his racing heart.

  The animals long tail twitched and then it lunged towards the boy. He yelled and jumped backwards. Both of them missed. But the animal was faster, gathering himself he jumped again.

  The only thing that saved Jonathan was the fact that the monster didn’t associate the piece of wood in his hands as a danger, it was wood. If he avoided the pointy end, it could not hurt him.

  What it didn’t understand was the concept of wood being moved by the prey and force being applied to the pointy end by human muscle. It pierced the beast’s chest wall like a sunbeam through a leafless tree.

  The wound was mortal but not yet. The beast continued to try and annihilate its target, its feet scrambling in the moist leafy ground trying to get a purchase so it could jump again. But the wood held him back. The boy yelled and pushed, piercing the animal’s backbone.

  It fell to the side and began to spasm, its legs continuing to scratch and claw, its jaw opening and slamming shut. But then slowly, it settled in place, its eyes bore into Jonathan’s soul then rolled back into its head and finally it was dead.

  Jonathan continued to grip the spear, staring at his kill. His ears buzzed, his whole body felt like it was hooked to an electric field. He couldn’t believe it, he had killed the thing. He threw his shoulders back and lifted his head.

  “Aaaaaaarrrrrgggggggghhhhhhhh,” he yelled as loud as humanly possible.

  Life was so great, he couldn’t believe how clear everything looked and sounded. The sharpness of the dark colors throughout the forest were overwhelming. He swore he could distinguish the individual calls for each bug and insect within a forty yard circumference. Tell you what they sounded like and what they were saying.

  His muscles jumped with energy, and he felt like he could lift a mountain over a fence. God, he, Jonathan Pierce, space nerd, had just killed an Intrepidian Dragon with nothing more than a spear.

  Being careful to avoid the blood, he pulled his spear from the body, but the point had broken insid
e the beast, making the weapon useless until he could sharpen it. Knowing that he had a dozen more waiting for him at camp. He tossed it aside and grabbed the animal’s tail. Finding his blazed trail, he dragged the thing out of the forest and into camp.

  The shear sense of pride threatened to lift him off the ground. Their surprised looks, first at the beast, then back at him, would remain with him for the rest of his life. Especially when Brenda Jacobson cocked her head and looked at him as if for the first time.

  She smiled, kissed him on the cheek, and told him he had done great. Moving a mountain over a fence would definitely not be a problem.

  Chapter Eleven

  Erik wiped the sweat from his eyes as he watched another Kairn skip away. Damn another meatless night. His stomach rumbled and his mouth filled with spit. He couldn’t do it all.

  That familiar feeling of pending doom settled over him. It seemed that the feeling was there all the time.

  Glancing at the high sun, he rubbed the back of his neck. Sixty three days. Who would have thought they would make it this far? If they were lucky, the powers that be might have sent someone on a search and rescue mission by now. Maybe, but who knew?

  They couldn’t count on it. They needed to do more. Their food was leaving the area. The grass was turning brown, dry and shriveled. The water level of the river was dropping, and the daylight had started to shorten, not a lot, but enough to tell that they had just passed the summer solstice.

  Before they knew it, the winter would be here. What would the food situation be by then?

  Shaking off the shimmer of despair that threatened, he turned for home. What a comforting word, home seemed to be wherever his people were. A stripped and scrambled shuttle and a fire pit. All of it behind a wooden wall that kept the beasties at bay.

  He scanned the area around him. You had to keep your head on a swivel out here. The only place you could really relax was at home. He shook his head, who would have thought that he would feel safer around a bunch of college kids. Everything was relative.

  It wasn’t going to be home much longer. They couldn’t stay, regardless of what Combs and his cohorts thought. The Kairns had moved on. Following the grass to greener pastures, literally. The hunters had to go out farther and farther to find them, and now the glorious beasts had disappeared.

  Pulling the gate closed behind him, he trudged up the hill. The area had changed. Every spare piece of wood had long ago served the fire ring of rocks. They had started cutting into the forest a few weeks ago. The latrine and its screens had been moved away from the shuttle and half way towards the fence, far enough away to hide the smell but not too close to the wild outside. The shuttle looked the same, but the door was open almost all the time now.

  Several spare chairs had been removed and set up around the fire. The place looked like a weekend camp for vagabonds on their way to a hobo convention. Kairn hides were drying on frames over by the woods, metal containers and glass helmets lay around the fire.

  They’d started to make things comfortable, and he was going to have to pull them out of here.

  Without warning, Bill and Ahmed grabbed his arms. It surprised him in more ways than one. Both boys were stronger than he would have assumed and had more balls that he ever would have given them credit for.

  A fist flashed from nowhere and caught him square on the jaw. Not a glancing blow, but a full on clobber knocker that felt like someone had just driven a rail spike into the side of his face.

  The world turned a hazy shade of orange for a moment and bells started going off in his gut. The world had turned upside down and no longer seemed to make sense. A far off laugh followed by a gruff voice told his captors to keep him up straight.

  Another pile driver got him in the gut without any warning, he really needed to open his eyes and start focusing on things. That last one made him want to puke. Some girl started screaming; at least he hoped it was a girl. Otherwise, his voice had risen several octaves in the last few minutes.

  Shaking his head he grabbed onto awareness and focused on his tormentors.

  Combs stood there massaging his knuckles and smiling from ear to ear like the preverbal cat eyeing a defenseless canary. Every atom in Erik’s soul wanted to remove that grin from the man’s face. Wanted to bury it under six feet of dirt and stomp on the grave. But the two boys holding his arms were well prepared.

  Both of them looked like they wanted to crap their pants when he looked at them, but they held on, and Combs threw another haymaker. Erik heard a crackling pop as his nose erupted in a pink shower of bloody mist. Things sort of went hazy after that.

  He was pretty sure it was Nora screaming at someone to let her go. He caught a brief glimpse of two girls holding her back. Boy, were they going to regret that.

  Combs kept punching, coming in close to land blows to the gut then step back and jab at the face. But Erik was ready for them now and able to tense up. They didn’t hurt near as much when you knew what you were doing.

  Combs stepped back, breathing hard but still smiling. You could tell he was really enjoying himself. He had a shiny, maniacal, look to his eyes like a kid using a magnifying glass at his favorite anthill.

  “That’s for trying to boss your betters,” he said, as he rolled his shoulder and stepped in for another round.

  “No!” Nora screamed. Combs looked at her with appraising eyes then smirked, and threw another punch.

  “My father will see you in jail for the rest of your life for this,” she said while she continued trying to wrest herself out of the other girls’ grip.

  Combs seemed taken aback by her comments then laughed and pounded Erik in the ribs with a bone crushing left that lifted the man off the ground.

  “That’s for messing where you don’t belong,” he said as he glanced over at Nora, making sure his point got across.

  Finally, Erik slumped, his chin fell to his chest, and his knees gave out. It took every bit of Bill and Gene’s strength to keep him upright. They started to wobble and finally had to let go and let him collapse to the ground. Combs laughed as he stood over him.

  “Just so we are clear on this, I’m in charge, and we will be doing things my way from here on out. Understood?”

  When Erik didn’t respond Combs gently nudged him with his foot. Making sure to target the tender spot on his ribs.

  “Understood?” he repeated.

  Erik spit out a mouth full of blood then gave a big sigh and nodded his head. He couldn’t seem to say the words. Combs laughed and stepped over him on his way to the fire pit and the seat at the head of the circle.

  Chuckling to himself Erik climbed up onto his knees and then looked over at Combs.

  “You made one mistake idiot.”

  “What’s that,” Combs asked, the smile slowly leaving his face.

  “You didn’t kill me. Big mistake, colossal when you thing about it.”

  A gasp rose from the assembly when he stood to his feet and turned towards Bill and Ahmed. They looked like they had just seen their own ghosts.

  “Gentlemen, for supposedly smart people, you don’t have the brains God gave a Valdorian Bumble Bee. Never leave your enemy able to retaliate.”

  With the start of the last syllable, Erik’s foot flashed and caught Bill square in the groin. It was a good shot, the kind that men fear. The grunt of sympathetic pain from the crowd was almost as loud as the grunt Bill let out as he melted into the ground.

  Ahmed, who had watched his buddy take the crippling blow, immediately brought his hands down to protect his vital organ. Erik’s fist caught him half way between his left ear and his chin. He felt that satisfying crack that only a broken jaw can make. The man’s head snapped around, and his body followed it to the ground.

  Erik chuckled, shook his heads and spat blood onto the boy’s back. He stood there for a moment catching his breath.

  Hunched over he brought his elbow in to protect his ribs and wiped a hand across his face checking for damage. He knew what he’d see
, a face with a mish-mash of blue and green bruises showing definite potential for yellow and orange in the future.

  His left eye was almost completely closed, and his nose felt like someone had hit it with a flat iron shovel. Smiling through bloody teeth, he turned and trapped the Professor with a stare.

  “I’ve taken harder beatings from better men than you, you worthless idiot,” Erik said as he stepped towards his quarry. He felt like a bag of broken glass and was having trouble focusing. It hurt to breath. But as long as he could tell where Combs was at he’d be okay. Hunched over a little as he slowly made his way towards the man.

  “Stand still you mewling coward.”

  Erik watched Combs look at the students. Some of them looked surprised, even worried. Others were definitely enjoying the moment.

  He watched Nora break away from her captors and start towards him. He threw his hand up to stop her in her tracks then shook his head.

  “Not yet,” he said, then turned back to Combs.

  “Basically, you have a choice, Professor. You can run away, spend the night with the Yarks. Or, stand here and take the beating I’m going to give you.”

  Looking over to James and Jonathan, he told them, “you guys be sure to pull me off of him before I kill him. Not too early, but don’t let it go too far. Once I get started, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

  Both boys swallowed hard but nodded their heads accepting the assignment. Nora gasped but didn’t move.

  Combs’ face turned whiter than a Valdorian Flounder’s belly and just as sickly. He glanced towards the fence gate then back to Erik. You had to give the man credit he was smart enough not to walk outside to certain death. Seeing his option narrow the man drew his fists up looking like a nineteenth century bare knuckles boxer.

  The two men slowly circled each other, both of them looking for that open spot, that fatal weakness. It didn’t take long for Erik to find it. He fainted right and then threw a wicked left catching Combs just below the right eye. Erik stepped back before the man could counter punch, but there was no need. The blow had shocked the Professor to the very core.