“Ass?” Bill asked, raising both eyebrows.
“Ain’t that what you are, an Aerial Survey Specialist, or Ay Ess Ess?” Karen replied, laughing.
Slapping Bill on the thigh of his uninjured leg, she said, “Take it easy for the rest of the day. I’m sure tomorrow’s gonna be a bitch for you.”
The chatter of the awakening forest woke Bill before the dawn. The birds, in particular, were noisy. This was especially true because of the sheer number of them. Back on Earth, Bill would see flocks of birds, but nothing like what he had experienced on Hayek, Zion, and now Planet 42. Passenger pigeons were quite loud as they fed on the mast of the surrounding chestnut and oak trees surrounding the campsite. It wasn’t the cooing of doves that he was used to; rather these birds made shrieking, clucking, and chattering sounds. Bill was amazed that Meri and Karen could sleep through it. Then again, after all the time they spent swapping watch and taking care of me while I was zonked out, no wonder they’re dead to the world.
The fire was still smoldering, so Bill decided to add fuel to it. After a couple of awkward minutes getting on his feet, he was able to grab a couple of sticks stacked near the fire and set them atop the glowing coals. That oughta keep the nasties away.
Taking care not to stare into the fire and lose his night vision, Bill grabbed his rifle and made his way to the latrine where he managed, yet again, another successful toilet.
Returning to the campfire, he got a pot of water set above the fire on a stick that had been set up for that purpose. Bill didn’t know where the fixings were, but he knew that Meri had found some sassafras to make tea with: a far better success then her initial attempt at concocting a hot brew for them. Scrounging around, he finally found the sassafras roots, but they were only partially dry. Guess this’ll have to do, he thought. Grabbing his knife from his web belt, which was on the ground next to his sleeping bag, he cut the roots into slivers, dropping them into a pot.
By the time dawn was in full swing, Bill could hear stirring from the two hammocks. Soon he was joined by the women, both of whom were suffering from bedhead and bad breath. By now the tea was brewing. Rather than risk trying to stand and pour hot tea, he convinced Meri to pour a cup for each of them.
As always, sipping the brew reminded Bill of coffee, or the lack thereof. Along with the lack of any type of sweetener.
“Hey, any thought of trying to raid a honey bee nest?” he asked.
“No thanks,” Meri said. “I’m already taking care of one sick, lame, and lazy guy. Don’t feel like taking care of another.” She tempered her comment with a smile.
“Not me,” said Karen. “Not up for getting stung multiple times.”
“We could smoke them out,” Bill said.
“Yeah. No,” Karen said. “Besides, we’ve got enough to do without trying to find something to satisfy your sweet tooth needs.”
Bill shrugged. “Just a thought.” He took another sip of the bitter tea.
Karen suggested pigeon for breakfast.
“Bill, you keep an eye out. We’ll use our slingshots and take a bunch of them out quietly.”
Bill felt it was sacrilegious to kill any passenger pigeons, considering they had gone extinct on Earth over a century ago. The logical side of his brain argued with the emotional side until the logical side finally won. There were billions of passenger pigeons on Planet 42; they wouldn’t be going extinct any time soon. Besides, he was getting tired of venison stew for just about every meal.
Bill stood up and held his rifle at the ready, scanning about, while the women retrieved their rifles and slingshots and went hunting under the nearby trees.
Within minutes they each had several birds, which they brought back into the campfire. Bill helped dress them out and spit them. It wasn’t long before the passenger pigeons were roasting over the coals of the fire.
While the birds were cooking the three went about preparing to load the canoe. Bill was able to help, but not as much as he wanted to; it was difficult for him, with only one hand. The other was holding on to his makeshift crutch. He finally resigned himself to standing watch while the two women did all the packing.
It didn’t take long for Meri and Karen to collect the trip wire, and then pack up the hammocks and sleeping bags. The packs and rifles were stacked together while the three donned their web belts and survival vests.
“Keep the peeder packed,” Karen told Bill. “If we’ve only got one person armed and ready to shoot at a moment’s notice, I want them armed with a rifle.”
Bill complied.
“Now, let’s get the packs and canoe over to the river and get this show on the road.”
Karen and Meri dragged the canoe back to the water and pushed it in, stern first. While Meri held onto the bow, Karen removed her socks and shoes and rolled her pants legs up, then loaded the packs. Then she pushed the stern so the vessel was parallel to the shore.
“Okay. Let’s see if we can get you loaded without having you fall in the river,” she said to Bill. He handed the rifle to her and she put it in the back of the canoe.
Bill, using Karen and Meri as supports, was able to step into the canoe. Sitting was a struggle, but the three of them managed it. Bill sat on his pack, broken leg stretched out in front of him, his rifle in his lap. Karen handed him a paddle before climbing into the rear of the canoe.
Before pushing off, the three put on their life preservers.
“After last time, I don’t think I’ll ever go on the water without one of these,” Bill said as he struggled into the PFD.
Karen pushed away from the shore with her paddle while Meri continued to hold onto the bow.
As the canoe’s rear started to swing into the current, Meri climbed into the front and began paddling backward, pushing them further into the river’s channel.
In just a minute the trio was making their way down the New River, westward bound once again.
It wasn’t long before they were engaged in fighting the river again. Even though the water level had dropped dramatically several days after the storm, they were in an area of numerous rapids. The mountains closed in on them, the river narrowed, and the rapids kept coming one after the other. Most were Class II, fairly easy to negotiate in the canoe, but some were Class III, and there were even a couple of Class IV rapids that got Bill’s attention.
As the canoe bucked and rolled through the rapids, he hoped that they would end soon and that the canoe wouldn’t be too damaged. Water sprayed up in their faces, and it was a struggle to keep their hats on, despite the draw cords. After just six hours on the river the trio called uncle and pulled up to a flat stretch of land. They were exhausted, despite it being only early afternoon, so they decided to set up camp.
Once again, the majority of the work fell to the women while Bill kept watch. After the camp was established and a fire started, Bill did some fishing while Karen took over the watch and Meri began hunting for edible plants to supplement their diet and get some much-needed vitamin C.
After supper, Karen gave Bill the first watch after he said he had recovered enough to at least do that. The night passed uneventfully.
The next day they were back on the river just after dawn. This time, even though the water level had continued to fall, the river had more, and tougher, rapids. There were more Class IV, and even a couple that Bill thought were Class V. Damn, I’m glad I’ve got this life vest on, he thought as they passed through one particularly rough one, soaking everyone.
It seemed like forever before the gorge they had been traveling through widened and the rapids ceased to buffet them, but it was barely past noon. They finally reached the fork where the New and Gauley Rivers merged, forming the Kanawha River, and the water smoothed out. The added flow from the Gauley increased their downriver speed, which made everyone happier as they waited to dry out in the warming day.
39
Traveling down the Kanawha River was the easiest part of their waterborne journey since the time spent rafting down the
Rhône River in Western Eurasia. The river was wide and mostly smooth, without the elevation drop they’d had coming out of the mountains. After the rapids, rough water, and falls of the New River, the Kanawha was a pleasant respite.
It wasn’t long, though, before they heard the sound of more rushing water, louder than the rapids they had been running all morning. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Karen ordered the craft beached. This time, they were careful to pull the canoe in parallel to the shore and exit on the shore side.
Grabbing her rifle, Karen told Bill, “You stay here while Meri and I go see what we’re dealing with.”
While Bill sat guard over the canoe and equipment, the two women walked downriver. They were gone less than five minutes.
“Another set of falls,” Karen said upon their return.
“So, what’s the game plan?” Bill asked.
“We portage. Meri and I’ll take the equipment down while you tag along. Once we’ve got everything down, then we’ll portage the canoe down.”
Bill felt useless, lacking the ability to do anything more than sit on his ass and watch while the women did all the work. A small, misogynistic part of him thought morosely, Well, at least I get to see women working. He promptly shut down that line of thinking, realizing he was being an asshole, even if only to himself.
Each woman grabbed her pack, shouldered it, and headed downriver. Karen took the lead while Bill hobbled along behind Meri. The two women, being hale and hearty, were able to cover the ground faster than Bill with his makeshift crutch, so it was no surprise that they started widening the gap between them and Bill. He thought about moving his rifle from the ready sling position to slinging it over his back when he caught sight of some movement in the trees above Meri. He stopped and focused on the movement, which had also stopped.
It took him a moment for his brain to register what his eyes were seeing, but once it did, he shouted “Down!”
Dropping his crutch, he brought his rifle up to bear as the two women hit the ground.
As Meri landed, a mountain lion jumped on her back and bit down. Bill took aim through the ghost ring sights of his rifle, fired, dropped his rifle to the ready position, ejected the spent round and chambered another.
Bringing the rifle up, he saw the lion was writhing around on the ground on the other side of Meri. He didn’t have a clear shot.
Karen came to her feet, rifle up, and shot the lion from only a couple of feet away. The writhing ceased and the big cat lay motionless, obviously dead.
Bill grabbed his crutch and hobbled down the slope as rapidly as he could, rifle still held in his right hand. His heart was pounding and he was filled with fear.
God, let her be okay, he prayed as he slowly raced toward Meri. Karen was already checking for injuries, her hands moving around Meri’s neck. Meri was unconscious, not moving.
“Help me get her pack off, but don’t move her,” she said as Bill arrived.
The two managed to undo the buckles of her pack straps, and Karen removed the pack and set it aside. Once more she searched for injuries, but couldn’t find any. No blood was visible anywhere, except on the big cat.
Kneeling back on her haunches, Karen said, “I don’t think she’s got any neck injuries, but I don’t wanna take any chances. I’ll stabilize her neck while you roll her over on her back. We’ll use a field expedient collar until she comes around.”
Bill managed to get down on his knees and position himself at his wife’s side. Thank God, she’s breathing, he thought as he saw her back rise and fall.
Karen wrapped her hands on either side of Meri’s head and held on tightly.
Bill positioned himself so that one hand was on Meri’s shoulder and the other on her far leg.
“On three, roll her towards you,” Karen said. He rolled Meri while Karen kept her head aligned with her body and shoulders.
“Put something under her neck,” Karen said.
Bill grabbed Meri’s pack and extracted a T-shirt. Making sure it was snugly rolled, he slid it under Meri’s neck so that her head remained aligned with the rest of her body.
Karen carefully released her hold on Meri’s head and the two worked together to make a somewhat more secure neck brace using more clothing from her damaged pack. They also took her summer weight sleeping bag and draped it over her, in an attempt to treat her for shock.
Bill could see a bruise forming on Meri’s forehead. Other than that, he didn’t see any signs of injury.
“Okay,” Karen said. “We gotta make sure she doesn’t move until we can check her out further. You keep an eye on her and I’ll get our stuff together and set up camp.”
Picking up her rifle, she headed back up the slope to where the canoe and the remainder of their gear waited.
Bill, holding his rifle, alternated his view from his supine wife to the surrounding area, paying particular attention to the trees. Cougars are solitary critters, he constantly reminded himself, not expecting to see another one. But, they ain’t the only killers that hang out in trees.
Karen soon returned with Bill’s pack, dropped it on the ground next to him, and went for the rest.
Meri still hadn’t moved or awakened by the time Karen returned with the last of the equipment.
“Guess I’ll get the canoe,” she said.
This time Karen was gone longer, and if Bill hadn’t heard her crashing through the forest as she made her way back to the camp, he would have been more worried than he already was. Soon he could see her coming down the incline, towing the canoe with the lead rope.
By the time she arrived, she was bathed in sweat, despite the cool temperatures.
“I’m gonna shower,” she told Bill, dropping the canoe lead and going to her pack to retrieve her hygiene kit.
While Karen was dousing herself, Bill saw Meri’s eyes flutter, then open.
“Don’t move,” he said to her. “You got attacked by a cougar and were knocked out, so we don’t know if you’ve got any injuries other than a bump on the head. How do you feel?”
“Like shit. My head hurts, but that’s about it.”
Karen, naked and dripping, came over to the couple.
“Can you wiggle your toes and fingers?”
Meri wiggled her fingers, and then Bill could see her boots move.
“Okay, let’s do a couple of tests. Bill, take off her boots.”
While Bill was was doing so, Karen ran her finger along Meri’s palms. “Can you feel that?”
“Yes.”
Karen put her index fingers in Meri’s palms and said, “Squeeze my fingers.”
Meri did.
“Okay, you can let go. Looks like your upper body’s fine.”
Moving down to Meri’s exposed feet, she ran her finger up the sole, from heel to toe. It was obvious Meri could feel the touch, as she tried to pull her foot back from Karen’s finger.
“Don’t move,” Karen said. “I want to check your spine. So far, everything looks good, but I don’t want to take a chance.”
Over the next couple of minutes, Karen ran her hands under Meri’s back, feeling with her fingers and asking Meri what she was feeling and if there was any pain. Eventually, Karen worked her way from butt to skull, and Meri said she didn’t feel any pain.
“Looks good,” Karen said, looking first at Meri then at Bill. “Want to try sitting up?”
“Sure,” Meri said. “But help me up, and let’s take it nice and slow.”
With Bill and Karen’s assistance, Meri sat up. Gingerly moving her body around from the waist up, she declared herself to be physically okay. With some more assistance from Karen, she stood.
Once on her feet, she needed some support, as it was clear that whatever bonk she took to the head was causing some dizziness. Bill was afraid she would pass out and struggled to his feet to stand next to her and provide what little physical support he was capable of.
“I think I better lie back down,” she eventually said and plopped back on
the sleeping bag.
“Concussion,” Karen said. “Here’s the game plan. You stay awake tonight. One of us’ll stay awake with you. We’ve gotta give this twenty-four hours, just in case.”
“In case of what?” Bill asked. “There’s no hospital. If she collapses, there ain’t a damn thing we can do.”
Karen paused for a minute. “You’re right. Here’s what we’re gonna do. Meri, you get to sleep, but we’re gonna wake you up every couple of hours and ask you some questions that should be pretty easy to answer. We’ve only got a limited amount of pain killers, so I don’t want to use them on this. You okay with that?”
Meri nodded.
“Okay. That’s it then. Bill, you keep watch, I’ll set up camp. No sense having the sick, lame, and lazy get even more sick, lame, and lazy,” she finished with a wan smile.
Karen took the time to skin and cut up the cougar, putting it over the fire to smoke before nightfall. “If nothing else, we get some good meat out of this.”
The night passed slowly as Bill and Karen traded off watch, waking Meri every couple of hours. By dawn, it was apparent that she would be okay, but Bill was still worried, especially when the first thing Meri did with breakfast was to spew it into the forest. Despite that, she managed to eat some more and not regurgitate it.
Shortly after dawn they broke camp and were back on the water.
The next several days were relatively pleasant, mostly drifting, fishing, and occasionally taking game that was foolish enough to drink from the bank while they floated by. On the water, they felt more at peace than on shore, as the larger predators that would normally threaten them weren’t all that adept at simultaneously swimming and attacking. Being on land was a different matter, though, and the three became more vigilant when ashore.
Bill was a bit worried about Meri, though, because even though it had been several days since the cougar attack, she still continued to get sick in the morning. Luckily, her sickness didn’t last long, but it was becoming a daily event.
At one of their evening stops, Meri gathered in a bunch of crayfish from a pool and boiled the mini lobster-like crustaceans into a nice bouillabaisse.
The Corps of Discovery Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3: A multiverse series of alternate history Page 42