The Corps of Discovery Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3: A multiverse series of alternate history

by James S. Peet

  Bill and Meri kept their rifles trained on the death struggle, barely moving, trying not to attract attention to them.

  As they watched, several more Smilodons jumped on the small mastodon, eventually driving it to the ground just below their position on the bluff. Despite the wind starting to kick up the fire spread by the stampeding herd, the Smilodons continued their assault on the screaming mastodon.

  By this point, the rest of the herd had passed through the small encampment. They could hear it crashing through the brush downstream.

  Bill glanced over to where the canoe was grounded on the banks of the Missouri River, but couldn’t see it in the dark.

  I hope they didn’t trash our canoe, too, he thought.

  It didn’t take long before the baby mastodon was dead, its final death knell a small sound, between a wheeze and a keen. The Smilodon pack continued to ravage the animal, using their saber-like teeth to shred chunks of flesh. Bill could see their lower jaws practically unhinge, opening wide so they could use their large teeth. He could hear Karen whimpering behind him.

  Unaware of the spreading fire, the big cats ate. Bill, on the other hand, wasn’t as unaware of the growing ring of flames, beginning to spread up the bluff. Reaching over and tapping Meri with his hand, he pointed to the flames. She nodded then indicated Karen. “What do you think we ought to do?” she asked, keeping her voice down, but avoided whispering. The sound of whispering carries further than a low voice.

  “We can’t go up, ‘cause that’s where the fire’s going,” Bill said in the same low voice. The fire was advancing on either side of them, still below, but clearly on its way to flank them. “Best bet is down,” he finally said.

  “Are you crazy?” Meri asked. Her voice didn’t rise in volume, but the inflection certainly came across.

  “Yeah, like a fox. Here’s what I’m thinking.”

  Bill then outlined his plan, all the while watching the fire grow and the Smilodons gorge themselves.

  Meri heard him out, then agreed. “But you better hurry up. That fire’s growing.”

  Bill brought his PDW up. Extracting the magazine, he took a quick glance to ensure it was fully loaded, then pulled out a second magazine.

  “Just in case,” he said in a quiet voice, setting it down on the ground next to him.

  “Well, don’t miss,” Meri replied.

  Getting into a prone position, he aimed the PDW at one of the Smilodons. “Get ready,” he said, not taking his eye from the low power rifle scope.

  Meri knelt, holding her rifle. “Ready.”

  Taking a deep breath, then slowly letting it out, Bill aimed at the point just behind the ear of the closest cat. Once all the breath was out of his body, and he was relaxed, he squeezed the trigger.

  “Down,” Meri said, keeping watch.

  Bill immediately turned his sights on another Smilodon. This one had a confused look on its feline face, and had stopped eating to look at the now-dead Smilodon. Repeating the fire sequence, Bill shot the second cat just behind the ear, destroying the brain and immediately killing it.

  “Down,” Meri said again.

  Bill shifted his aim to one of the big cats that was on the ground between the dead mastodon and him. The cat was looking toward the sound of the gunfire, ears laid back. A shot behind the ears was out, so Bill took careful aim at the Smilodon’s left eye.

  Another shot and another brain-dead Smilodon.

  By this time, the rest of the pack had become alarmed, and Meri took a chance to sow more fear into them. Standing up, she began waving and yelling.

  It wasn’t quite enough to start them running, but two more quick shots from Bill, these intended more to hurt than kill, caused the pack to give up its dinner and run away, the two wounded limping and howling in pain.

  “Cover me,” Bill said, standing up and slinging his PDW over his shoulder. He put the spare magazine in his pocket, then grabbed his shovel from his pack and ran downhill.

  As he neared the fire, he could feel the heat wash across him, much like standing over a barbeque grill. He beat the flames nearest him with the shovel until they were out, then continued the process to either side until there was a path wide enough to safely transit.

  Running back up the hill, he gasped, “Grab Karen’s pack and head on down. I’ll grab her.”

  Meri did so, making her way quickly, but carefully, down the hill, rifle held in one hand, Karen’s pack in the other.

  Bill slung his own pack on his back, then helped a cursing Karen upright.

  “Una mas tiempo,” he said, holding on to her waist, practically dragging her, as she slowly walked down the hill.

  “Fuck it. Just drop me,” Karen said. “I can’t take this shit anymore.”

  “Bullshit. We’ve come too far to quit. Besides, you’ve still got a little boy waiting for you. Don’t want him being raised by his dad, do you?” The last came out in grunts as Bill struggled to manhandle the pack and Karen down the slope.

  As they passed through the gap in the fire, Bill gasped even more. The flames were picking up, the heat becoming unbearable.

  Damn, had we waited any longer we might’ve been trapped up there, he thought, once clear of the burning line of grass.

  “Let’s head for the canoe,” he yelled over the crackling of the flames. The fire was working its way up and down the riverbank, and trees were beginning to catch fire.

  Bill was pleasantly surprised to see the canoe still intact.

  “Help Karen in,” he told his wife.

  She dropped Karen’s pack into the canoe, stepped in, then reached out to help the older woman. Karen was practically at the point of utter exhaustion. Once in the canoe, she collapsed in the bottom, shedding her rifle off her shoulder.

  Bill stood outside the boat, near the point where it was tied to a tree branch. “Let’s wait here. If the fire gets near, we can cast off, but I’d rather not do so if we don’t need to. Who knows what’s floating down that river that can slam into us.”

  Meri nodded. Karen was apparently too exhausted and in too much pain to even care.

  Bill placed his pack in the canoe but kept his rifle handy.

  Then he turned to Meri. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll keep an eye out. If things go bad, I’ll shove us out and wake you.”

  “Not sure I can rest after that excitement,” she said, stifling a yawn.

  That brought a brief smile to Bill’s lips. “Yeah, right,” he said, uttering the only known double positive to make a negative in the English language.

  Soon both Meri and Karen were snoring, wrapped in their sleeping bags, the bison blankets having been left in the wikiup. Bill watched as the flames made their way up the bluff and in both directions along the river. Fortunately, the canoe was in the right place, safe from the flames.

  As the temperature began to drop, Bill retrieved his jacket from his pack, and put on a pair of gloves. As he breathed, frost formed in front of him.

  Gettin’ cold. That oughta at least slow down the fire.

  Just as he thought that, he felt something cold and wet strike the tip of his nose. He wiped it off, then looked around. Snowflakes were falling. Wow! Snow in October? Within minutes, the snowfall became heavier and soon began extinguishing the fire. Bill placed a tarp over the sleeping women, so the wet snow wouldn’t wake them.

  Soon Bill was surrounded by darkness, with only the snow and his thoughts to keep him company. Looking about at the now snow-encrusted landscape near him, he began to worry.

  If it’s snowing this early, I wonder how bad the winter’s gonna be. Shit, I’ve got a kid on the way. How am I gonna keep him warm? How am I gonna make sure we’ve got enough food. Sure as shit, Karen ain’t gonna be able to do much.

  It was at that point that Bill admitted to himself that he was now the one in charge of the expedition, or what was left of it.

  As he pondered that turn of events, he gathered some nearby wood and got another fire started.

  No sens
e in freezing or attracting a hungry critter looking for a tasty human for a snack.

  Dawn arrived, muffled in falling snow. Fortunately, the ground hadn’t been too cold, so it took some time before the snow started to stick and accumulate. By dawn, there were several inches on the ground, and it had begun to taper off.

  Bill, who had remained awake the entire night, added more fuel to the fire. His eyeballs felt gritty as he looked around at the rapidly appearing landscape, utterly exhausted. He heard a stirring behind him, and turned to the canoe. Meri sat upright, the tarp covering her tossed aside, a puzzled look on her face.

  “It’s snowing,” she said in wonder. Holding her hand out, palm up, she caught a snowflake, then watched it disappear as it melted from her body heat. Just looking at the wonder on her face made Bill’s heart melt a little, too.

  “Yeah. It put the fire out and seems to have kept the nasties away for a while.”

  “You must be exhausted.” She climbed out of the canoe and shrugged into her jacket.

  “Just a tad,” Bill said.

  She reached back into the boat, retrieved her rifle, and came to stand next to the fire. Holding the rifle in one hand, she held out the other hand to warm it.

  “As soon as it’s light enough, I want to check the camp and see if we can salvage anything,” Bill said.

  Dawn quickly developed into day, and Bill went back to the campsite. The wikiup had been knocked over, but, unexpectedly, nothing was really damaged. Inside the downed structure, he found the bison blankets intact, a light dusting of snow covering them. He gathered the blankets, shook the snow off, and went back to the canoe.

  “Here,” he said, handing one to Meri. Karen was now awake and sitting up in the canoe.

  “Got a fire going, if you’re interested,” he said to her, gesturing toward the campfire.

  The recovering woman slowly exited the canoe and approached the fire.

  “How you feeling?” Bill asked her, handing her one of the bison blankets, which she draped around her.

  “Like crap. Whaddaya think?” Her voice was hoarse.

  “Well, it could’ve been worse,” he said. “Wikiup was knocked over, but it seems to be in pretty good shape, overall. Added bonus: lots of fresh meat.”

  44

  After resetting the wikiup, Bill and Meri helped Karen get settled back inside. Bill got the fire going again, and the small dwelling warmed up rapidly.

  As they were enjoying the warmth, the topic turned to the future.

  “Way I see it,” Bill said, “we’ve got two choices. Continue upriver or stay here for the winter. Thoughts?”

  “I don’t really care,” Karen muttered from under her blanket.

  Bill and Meri exchanged looks.

  “Well,” Meri finally said, “if we continue upriver, we’ll get closer to the IP, but further away from wood — less fuel for fires. Considering winters here are hell, that might not be such a good idea.”

  “I’m thinking the same thing,” Bill said. “If we dig in here for the winter, we should have time to gather enough wood and food. We can salvage that baby mastodon, and probably get some more big critters, like bison, and smoke enough to last us through the winter. Meri, do you think you’ll be able to gather enough edible plants to prevent scurvy?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. With a little help, I should be able to. Storage might be a problem.”

  From under the blanket came a low voice: “I took underwater basket weaving in college.”

  “That’s a real course?” Meri asked.

  “No,” Karen said. “It’s not, but I did take an actual basket weaving course, so if you can gather the right material, I can make a bunch, even from here.”

  “What do you need?” Bill asked.

  Karen told him.

  “We should be able to find that near the river. Meri, you mind finding that stuff while I take care of the mastodon? After I get that done, I’ll help out.”

  “Yeah, just as long as somebody with a rifle is nearby, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Great. Okay. Next topic, shelter,” Bill said. “Ain’t no way, no how, we’re all three gonna want to stay cramped up in this wikiup all winter, so we’re gonna have to do something different.”

  “What are you thinking?” Meri asked.

  “A sort of dugout. We can dig into the side of the hill, which will get us out of the wind, and the mass of the earth will provide some thermal protection. Build a small fireplace, and it’ll stay pretty warm, as long as we don’t have a bunch of gaps letting in the wind.”

  “That’s going to take a bunch of digging and log cutting,” Meri said.

  “Yep. Either that or the wikiup. Any other suggestions?”

  Meri and Karen thought about it, then shook their heads.

  “Looks like we’ll be entering the shire,” Karen said.

  Once again, Meri looked at her strangely.

  “Hobbit shire,” Bill interpreted.

  It took most of the day for Bill to erect smoking racks and clean the mastodon and Smilodons. Meri helped out in the afternoon to cut the meat into thin strips that were hung over the racks suspended above several small fires, serving to dry and smoke the meat, not cook it. By the time he was finished, the snow had mostly melted away, leaving the ground bare, but wet.

  Bill realized that somebody would have to stay awake all night watching the fires, and preventing any wild animals from taking their food. He wasn’t up to the task, not after having already spent one night on guard. He mentioned this to Meri, who told him she could handle a bunch of it. Giving him some stew, she sent him to bed in the wikiup.

  Karen had managed to make it out to the main fire. She sat on a log watching the interaction between the married couple, not saying anything, nor offering to help.

  Bill awoke after midnight. Karen was asleep, buried under a bison blanket. The glow of the fires showed Meri still awake, sitting watch. It was still cold, but not as cold as the night before, so Bill crawled out from under his bison blanket, put his boots on, grabbed his rifle, and joined Meri at the fire.

  Giving her a quick kiss, he asked how the night was.

  “Quiet, so far. A few coyotes and wolves howling in the distance, but no sign of any big cats.”

  The cats were Bill’s biggest worry. He considered them far more dangerous than the wolves or bears. And it wasn’t just the Smilodons they had to worry about, but also lions and cheetahs. Of course, they were also deep in the territory of the short-faced bear, one of the largest, most aggressive bears that ever existed. On top of that, it was a carnivore. Not just a part-time carnivore like the grizzly and black bears of Earth, but total full-on meat-eating carnivore — it ate vegans, not vegetables. It was also huge, taller than a human and weighing in at roughly a thousand kilos (or, a kilo kilo as Bill thought of it), several hundred kilos heavier than the largest grizzly. Not an animal Bill ever hoped to meet.

  “I’m up for taking over if you want to get some sleep,” Bill said.

  Stifling a yawn, Meri said, “Sounds good to me. Wake me at daylight, then you catch a couple of more hours of sleep. We’re gonna be busy building tomorrow, and I don’t think Karen’s going to be too useful.”

  Sadly, Bill had to agree.

  “What do you think we should do?” Meri continued.

  “Keep on keeping on. It’s all we can do. I figure either she’ll come out of this, or she won’t. Either way, we can’t all give up.”

  Meri nodded. She then got up, gave Bill a goodnight kiss, entered the small wikiup, and crawled under the blanket that Bill had just vacated, not even taking off her boots.

  Construction on the winter dwelling began the next day. Both Bill and Meri dug into the slope of the bluff they had taken refuge on during the night of the mastodon stampede. As with any physical venture involving tools in this brave, new world, the work soon resulted in numerous blisters, which Bill found amazing considering how callused his hands had become. It wasn’t their first time do
wn this road, so they just worked over the pain.

  By the end of the day, an area roughly five by five meters had been hacked out of the bluff. Meri suggested using the mastodon’s hide as the back wall, covering the dirt and reducing the amount of water that would seep into the dwelling.

  It took several more days, most of which were spent cutting and dragging logs before they had an actual structure in place. Karen was able to help a little, mostly by keeping watch. At Meri’s suggestion, the couple began moving the dirt from the original excavation over the exterior walls of the building, adding more insulation and reducing the number of gaps.

  A small fireplace was constructed in a corner against the bluff. Meri had found some clay near the river’s edge, so they used that as mortar for the stones, and eventually, for a pipe that served as a chimney.

  By the time December rolled around, the hobbit-hole, as they were now calling it, was completed, and attention turned back to securing their food supply. Bill dug another hole in the bluff near the hobbit-hole to store the dried meat in. With the temperatures hovering around freezing, Bill wasn’t too worried about the food spoiling. What he was worried about, though, was wild animals. He suggested they keep the edible plants that Meri and Karen had gathered in the hobbit-hole. “At least that way we can discourage some of the little critters, like mice, from eating too much,” he said.

  Karen had healed completely from her surgery within two weeks, but it was another couple of weeks before she was in full physical form. Her mental form, though, was a different matter. Bill had discussed this with Meri when the two of them were alone, usually when hunting. Bill was worried that Karen might do something stupid, like commit suicide. Meri didn’t think so but agreed that they should keep a close eye on her. Karen’s depression wasn’t bad enough to make her completely incapable of doing anything, but it was certainly strong enough to affect her decision making and level of effort she applied to anything.

  Another couple of weeks into winter, Karen finally started pulling out of her depression, but declined to take back the role of expedition leader.