A switch snapped in his brain as he thought about being hunted. He thought the hell with that—he had to find a weapon. “Do you have another gun?”
“No. And I’m low on ammo.”
He knew he should not try to take her gun. She was an expert with it, and she could do the most damage. She would not give it up anyway, probably kick his butt too.
“Good night, Luke.” Moon rolled over on her side and made a pillow of her pack. “Tomorrow will be an adventure.”
Luke looked at her form in the firelight. In another situation, he would have found her irresistible, but tonight his mind was on tomorrow. Luke reached his pack and found a length of paracord and his Swiss Army knife. He felt the adrenaline rising in his blood. Tomorrow will be different from today. Tomorrow he will be the hunter again.
Chapter 5
Luke awoke to the chitter of a bird he had never heard before. It was strange. He knew the call of every species of bird in Arkansas—not this one. Then he remembered his situation. No wonder he didn’t know the bird. He sat up and rubbed his face to get the blood flowing. It was still dark. Moon lay on the ground by the coals of the spent fire, but he knew she was awake. “Morning,” he said.
She sat up and smoothed her hair. “Ready to run?”
“Run?”
Moon stood, stretched. “Yeah. At first light, the Scrains will descend on this place like mosquitoes on a naked butt. We want to be long gone.”
Luke looked to the east. The sky was barely turning pink. The stars were fading. “What if we run into them?”
“We will run into some of them. We will kill them.” She threw her pack onto her back. “You ever killed a person, Constable?”
The thought bore into him like a hot iron. “No.”
She picked up his pack and helped him put it on. “Think of a nasty cottonmouth snake, ready to strike. You strike him first. After the deed is done, you don’t think of it anymore, because there will always be more snakes ready to strike if you let your guard down.”
He took her advice to heart—she was the expert in that field. He would try to think of bad snakes. He reached down and picked up his weapon.
“What is that?” Moon said.
He held it up for her to see. He had found a wedge-shaped stone and had lashed it to a stick with paracord that he kept in his pack, making a primitive ax. “My weapon until I can do better.”
“I heard you doing something last night. I figured you were preparing.” She smiled and looked at it. The smile morphed into admiration. “I’ve studied all manner of weapons.” She looked up at him. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you? You’re good at this.”
He nodded. “I’ve been making stone tools since I was a kid.”
“This is not just a tool, Constable. This is a weapon. Can you use it?”
A smile slowly grew on his face.
She nodded, tied up her ponytail, and then began throwing sticks on the coals. “Make the flames big. They will be licking their chops like hounds. We want them excited as all hell for the hunt. We want them to charge this hill.”
Luke picked up a small log and dropped it onto the fire. “Yeah. They won’t be expecting us to hunt them.”
Now it was her turn to smile. Luke could grow to love that smile.
She went to the ledge and turned back toward him. “Luke, we must kill these people or they will certainly kill us. You fully understand this, don’t you?” Her eyes reflected the growing firelight.
“I thought on it all night. I made my peace with it. I’m prepared to do what I have to do. They’re just bad snakes.”
“Well, then, may God be with us,” she said.
“If praying helps Him to be with us, I did my share last night.”
She smiled, nodded, and dropped over the ledge.
Luke stayed right on Moon’s tail. She never looked back; she knew he was there. Luke felt the excitement of the hunt as he had never felt it before. He had never hunted such a predator before, never hunted grizzly bears or mountain lions either—he had now skipped over those for the ultimate predator. He had psyched himself up for the chase, tried not thinking about them hunting him. The ax felt strong in his hand. It was not the best weapon, but it would do for now.
They ran through a dark forest of giant trees; he had never seen trees so large. It was starting to get light, and the only plan they had seemed to be to just run like a deer through the woods. They stopped for a quick breather and Luke asked, “What’s the plan?” He waved his arm in an arc. “It’s growing light.”
“Just stay with me. I do have a plan.” Before he could reply, she was on her way again. It was his cue and he was right behind her.
They came to a line of steep ridges that spanned the horizon. Moon pointed toward them. “See that cut through the ridges?”
“I see it.” It was a narrow canyon with steep walls.
“The first bunch of Scrain that had been following us has probably attacked our camp by now only to find our campfire. When the sun breaks the horizon, the next bunch will leave their camp by the river to join up with them.”
“How do you know they are camped by a river?”
She hesitated and cut her eyes toward Luke. “I know.” She pointed toward the canyon again. “They will have to come through there. We will ambush them when they stream through the cut.” She didn’t wait for a reply and ran for the ridge.
He followed her as they climbed the steep hill. At the top they had a commanding position. From there Luke could see the worn trail below, about a hundred feet long from entrance to exit of the ridge. “How are we going to ambush them?”
She rolled her pack off her back, reached in and pulled out two black grenades. “You know how to use these?”
A lump grew in Luke’s throat. He shook his head. What was she doing with grenades?
She demonstrated: “Pull this pin. Then toss it down on them below.” She handed him both grenades. “It’s that simple.”
“Why are you giving them to me?” he said as he took them. He held them as if they were eggs.
“I’m going down below to stop them. When I stop them, you drop the grenades. Don’t miss or this adventure will be over. You understand?”
She was red with excitement. “Luke, do you understand?”
He nodded. “But how will you stop them?”
“They will stop right under you. Wait for them to bunch up, then drop the grenades.” She smiled. “Good luck and be strong.” With that she was gone.
He laid the grenades and his ax on the ground in front of him. Looking down at the trail below, it was like being in a deer stand above a game trail. He prayed for strength to be with him when he needed it. He didn’t feel as strong as he had earlier. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew it was because Moon had left him alone. It was easy to be strong when she was near.
The grenades sat there like coiled snakes. He took in quick breaths—almost hyperventilating. “This is not real. This is not real.” Moon had been gone for five minutes, and he had no idea where she had gone. He tried to summon up the predator instinct, but his main concern was not letting Moon down, and, of course, staying alive. He found he admired her, probably more than anyone he knew.
There was movement on the trail. He hunkered down. He felt that old excitement grow deep within his soul. If he had a tail, it would be twirling like a lion’s tail, a lion ready to spring after a zebra. The fear was gone. The apprehension was gone. He waited patiently as he had done so many times before. His measured breathing increased. All his senses were at peak. His springs tightened. He waited, knew Moon was doing the same. They were like wolves waiting for the other to make the first move.
The blond men entered the cut, all carrying spears. They looked like cavemen on the cover of some novel, all with fur robes, some with fur hats. They were talking. The buzzing carried through the canyon.
Luke glanced at the grenades. In his mind he rehearsed the procedure for activating them.
He wanted to do it fast, but he didn’t want to be the one blown up.
They moved closer; soon they would be thirty feet right under him.
Luke’s heart raced like an engine, his breathing short and rapid, but now controlled. His hands were only inches from the grenades and ready for service.
Where was Moon?
The group moved through the cut like a snake. He counted maybe a dozen—maybe more.
How was Moon going to stop them? Luke wished she had said.
Back down the cut, there were five more coming. The two groups were too far apart. They needed to be bunched together for the best advantage. The first group was now directly under Luke.
Luke whispered, “Where the hell is—”
“Hey, Blondie!” Moon was standing in the exit of the cut.
The first group stopped right under Luke, but the second group was still too far. Luke reached for the grenades, but hesitated.
Moon began walking toward the stalled group under Luke, her hands at her side. The group at the entrance kept walking toward the middle group. What was Moon doing?
Luke picked up one of the grenades, but waited.
The Scrains began chanting and buzzing. They suddenly started running toward Moon. She pulled her pistol and shot the first one. The shot echoed through the little canyon. The rest stopped like stunned geese.
Out of reflex, Luke pulled the pin on the grenade. He fumbled it and dropped it. It rolled, bounced and careened down the canyon wall. It hit the trail about ten feet in front of the warriors. One went to pick it up. It exploded, carrying half the group away in chunks. The other half turned and fled back down the path.
The pistol opened up.
Luke snatched up the other grenade and heaved it at the running men. He hit the last one on the head, knocking him to the ground. The grenade exploded, killing all but two of the remaining men. As the two sprinted from the canyon, Luke noticed that one wore a white robe. For some stupid reason, Luke reckoned the fur must be from an albino deer.
Moon put the pistol back into her pocket. She looked up at Luke and gave him a thumbs up, cool and dry as Clint Eastwood. She surveyed the carnage, and she simply turned and went back out the canyon.
Luke’s chest heaved like a bellows. He looked down at the body parts. He had only seen something like that when a big truck once mowed over a pack of dogs. He wheeled around and sat flat on his butt. He raised his trembling hands to his face. He knew why he had fumbled the grenade—buck fever. It had happened to him before while deer hunting—get too excited and the body gets out of sync with the brain. He had better control it, or he would not live long here. He squeezed his eyes shut and held his head in his hands, had better come to grips. He had to be strong. Soldiers had been killing like this since the beginning of man. He thought of his own brother, the Navy Seal. He took a deep breath and stared up at the sky, not looking for anything, but not knowing where else to look. He drew in a few more breaths, and the excitement and fear mellowed a bit, just a small but noticeable bit. The sky was as blue as he had ever seen it. There were no clouds, nothing but blue. Something was missing, though, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He found himself searching the sky, briefly forgetting the terrible incident that had just happened.
“They’re not there.” Luke jumped and looked around to see Moon coming up the ridge.
“What’s not there?” he said.
She came closer and sat beside him. “Contrails.”
He looked back up at the sky. Of course. No lines in the sky.
“There are no vapor trails because there are no planes.” She looked the sky over as if she were looking for the lost planes. “The only things up there are birds.”
Luke nodded and said, “And God, I hope. I need something familiar here.”
She looked over at him and smiled.
“Haaa!”
Luke spun around to see a man bearing down on him with a spear. Luke shot to his feet and grabbed the spear with his left hand as the man lunged it at Moon. Luke whirled full around, pulling the spear from the man’s hand and with his right hand, he smashed the man’s face with the stone ax. The man melted to the ground.
“Yaaa!” Another man charged from the trees.
Luke threw the ax. It found its mark between the warrior’s eyes. Luke recognized the albino deer robe. These were the two who had run out of the canyon.
“I guess I don’t need this,” Luke heard Moon say. He turned to see her putting the pistol back into her pocket.
Luke looked at the two men he had just killed. One of them had a crushed skull with part of the bloody brain oozing out. He had done that. He turned and puked. Today he learned a hard truth—he could kill a human if he had to. He wiped his mouth and slowly faced Moon.
“A bad snake,” Moon said. “Just a bad snake.”
Luke glared at his boots as he trudged behind Moon. He hoped the boots lasted longer than any other pair he had ever owned. He had never considered such a worry before. If they wore out, he would normally go to the store and get another pair. Yeah, that ain’t happening here. The miles they had walked today through forests, savannas, and small prairies had made him realize he had better consider building moccasins at the first opportunity.
At least the country was beautiful and pristine. It reminded him of descriptions in historical journals from people like Thomas Nuttall. Animals abound―birds of all types, deer, rabbits, and some creatures Luke had never seen before. The sweet smell of wilderness permeated the air; some smells he knew, some he didn’t.
They stopped at a small pine forest for a breather. There, Luke inspected and then pulled dried sap from the side of a pine tree.
“I know what that’s for,” Moon said.
“Nature’s glue,” he said, as he placed it in his pack. “This will do until I can make it by Walmart.”
In the late afternoon, they stopped to rest at a creek meandering through a small prairie. A narrow, white rock ridge protruded from the ground like a razorback. From there they could see for miles and would be safe from surprise attack.
Luke bent to fill his water bottle. The water was clear with shiny minnows darting around in it. Pretty, colored rocks formed the streambed. One caught Luke’s attention—he knew it. He reached down and dug out a flat, white stone about the size of a plate. He examined it, and then looked at the white ridge beside the stream.
Moon bent to fill her water bottle. “Whatcha got there?”
Luke didn’t answer. He reached in the water and fished out another stone. This one was gray and shaped like a potato. He struck the edge of the white, flat rock with the potato rock and sheared off a sharp flake. He smiled. Oh, yes.
Moon capped her water bottle and put it back into her pack. “What is it?”
“It’s novaculite, a flint that I can make tools and weapons with.”
She grinned and nodded. “Then that’s more precious than gold here.”
Luke picked up one of the spears he had taken from the dead Scrain warriors, studied it. “Why do they not use stone points?” He looked over at Moon. “They only have sharpened sticks.”
“As far as I know, this world has not discovered flint knapping. They use rocks, but just for hammering. Well, they use stone flakes for knives and such, but they don’t make arrowheads.”
Luke set the stick down and stared at Moon.
She noticed. “What?”
“You said you could not tell me about your organization, and I will respect that, but you sure know a lot about this world. If you know so much, I suspect you know how to get home.”
She turned from him and looked across the prairie. “Luke, if I could get you back to Arkansas, I would.” She turned back to him. “I would do it right now.” A tear ran down her cheek.
Luke relaxed and his heart melted. He took her hand. “I’m sorry. You are all I have in this world.” He immediately realized how stupid it sounded. They both laughed.
From far across the prairie, strange t
rumpets sounded. He let go of her hand and climbed the ridge. He could not believe it. He pointed. “Elephants.” There were thirty or more in the distance headed their way.
Moon climbed beside him. “No, Luke. They are mammoths.”
Luke hesitated, wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly. He looked hard at the large animals on the distant prairie; then slowly turned to her. “Wooley mammoths?”
“Columbian mammoths.” She smiled as Luke looked back at the herd. “There are many more animals here that have gone extinct in your dimension.”
Luke thought our dimension—his and hers, but he was too excited about the herd to go into that.
The wind came from the direction of the mammoths, and their smell drifted over Luke. He inhaled deep and slow. It reminded him of the smell of the zoo. But these weren’t elephants or giraffes. They came within one hundred yards, but they continued past, slow and smooth and large. Luke wiped his eyes to keep tears from coming. Mammoths. Real live mammoths. A low rumble came from them, just like elephants on TV. It vibrated in his own chest. He watched them for over thirty minutes, until they were mere dots in the distance as they traveled their grass highway.
He hadn’t noticed, but Moon had climbed down from the ledge and had skewered a trout with one of the spears. It was still stuck to the spear lying in the grass. She was gathering drift and grass to build a fire.
“If we build a fire, won’t the Scrains see it and come after us?”
“They know where we’re at already, but they are afraid of the mammoths, think they’re demons or something. With them on the prairie, we are safe.”
Luke picked up a few sticks from the edge of the stream. “I thought early man hunted mammoths to extinction.”
Moon dropped her sticks on the ground and turned to Luke. “Dorothy, we’re not in Kansas anymore.” She smiled and flashed her pretty teeth. “Now, let’s have this ready for a fire tonight. We will need it to keep the animals away and to let the Scrains know we are still here.”
Luke worked by the moon and firelight, chipping away at the flint, making arrowheads and spear points. No two points were alike—they were all originals. They were tools and weapons, for sure, but they were art also. It took talent, a talent few people possessed, but he had it; and he was proud of it and thankful for it. He usually used copper and deer antlers to chip away at the flint, but the potato rock and his pocket knife worked well enough.
Portal to the Forgotten Page 5
