by Lou Cadle
There was a lot to think about when setting up work teams. But right now she needed to think about the nimravid, standing still, its tail still twitching from time to time.
She hated that twitching.
“Should we go?” Nari asked.
“I wish I knew.” Truth be told, she didn’t want to turn her back on the animal. She had a bad feeling. “We can’t just go back to picking reeds. That’s for sure.”
Zach said, “Nuh-uh. Not until it goes away.”
Nari said, “Should we throw rocks at it?”
“Too far away,” Hannah said. Too far for that, and too close for comfort. She wondered if the nimravid knew that, if it had already seen how far they could throw a rock. Could it be that smart?
They were in trouble if it was.
Zach said, “Maybe if we made some noise?”
They had been speaking in hushed tones. Hannah said, “Best idea I’ve heard so far.”
Zach put his fingers to his mouth and let out an ear-splitting whistle.
Hannah reacted more than the saber tooth, jumping three inches off the ground.
“Sorry,” he said.
“No, no, it’s good. Keep it up.” She began hollering.
Nari whooped, then she turned a cartwheel.
The nimravid did cock his head at that. Otherwise, he seemed unperturbed.
“I hate to say it, guys, but I’m getting spooked,” Hannah admitted a few seconds later. “We need to leave, but we need to leave walking backward. Or two of us walk backward, one keeps an eye forward.”
They took just a second to gather most of their reeds, leaving others sitting there on the ground. Then Zach led them to the stream, and they forded it, her and Nari walking backward the whole way.
The saber tooth kept pace with them. It didn’t lunge. It didn’t attack. It didn’t close the distance. But it didn’t fall behind either.
“Stop, guys,” she said when they had made it up the far bank. “I need to think.”
After a few moments of silence, Zach said, tentatively, “About what?”
“I’m wondering if we should go straight back to the cave. Maybe we shouldn’t lead it there. Maybe it doesn’t know where we live?”
Nari said, “Can’t it track us anyway? By smell?”
She was right. Probably it already knew where they slept.
Chapter 39
If she was smart, she’d start setting a guard at night. Keep the fire built up, keep the guard inside the stockade, and make sure they had one of their crude spears and plenty of rocks, but keep a watch.
And she’d been getting too casual about letting people go off to the latrines alone. Neither was far from the cave entrance, and she understood teenagers liked their privacy, but that had to stop. Today. Now.
Good decisions. Neither of which was helping her with the current problem, which was the saber tooth, two hundred or two hundred and fifty yards away, watching them, and making no secret of it.
Zach said, “I almost wish it would attack. Get it over with.”
Nari said, “I don’t.”
Neither did Hannah. She measured the distance between them. She could run that distance, in her hiking boots, in maybe thirty seconds.
She had the terrible feeling that the saber tooth could cross it in three seconds.
“You guys, face forward, and keep walking. Make it quick, but don’t run.”
“What about you?”
“I’m coming, in a second.”
She glanced behind to see them looking at each other and hesitating. “Go on, now. It’ll be okay.”
She looked at the saber tooth. It was sitting. Glancing back at the kids, she was happy to see them walking away. Nari looked over her shoulder and Hannah smiled and raised a hand in farewell.
She hoped it wasn’t a “Goodbye forever” farewell.
“Look,” she muttered. “I’m no match for you. I get it. But don’t you think a nice little oreodont would be better? I find them tasty and tender. Don’t you?”
She knew it probably couldn’t hear her, and that if it could, it could not possibly understand human speech. But it did that little head-cock again, as if considering her words.
Again, she glanced behind herself. Zach and Nari had climbed up a rise and were waiting, looking back. She waved them on.
And she took a chance. A crazy, maybe fatal chance. She walked forward. Toward the saber tooth.
It stood, watched her for a moment, and then rose and turned its back. With a flick of its tail, it sauntered off. She kept marching forward, and it continued with its unhurried pace.
When she had forded the stream and gotten to the place where it had last been sitting, she could smell it. Its scent. Its urine. Something. It was foul and the scent felt like vinegar in her eyes. She blinked and backed away, swiping at her eyes, needing to see.
When her vision cleared, it was gone. She looked everywhere, especially in the tallest patches of grass, thinking it was hiding there, waiting for its chance. But she saw nothing. No sign. No movement. Nothing.
It was as if it had disappeared into thin air.
Walking backward the whole way, she retraced her steps, stopping only once, to pour some water over her face. She swished a mouthful of water around, spit it out, and then took a long drink. Better, but she could still smell the saber tooth’s odor on her.
Zach and Nari were waiting for her in the same spot.
“That was scary,” said Nari.
“You chased it away,” Zach said.
“No,” said Hannah. “I didn’t. It decided to go away. That’s an entirely different thing.”
Chapter 40
That night, as a group, they talked over her worries about the saber tooth.
M.J. didn’t think it was targeting her—or them as a group. “It can’t afford to. It has to eat, at least every few days.”
She said, “But—” and stopped herself before finishing. It could eat one of us as easily as anything else. We’re crunchy and tender, I’m sure.
Nari said, “It was spooky, really, M.J. It just stared at us. And then followed us.”
Zach said, “Like a stray dog following you home. A really hungry dog.”
Bob said, “It wouldn’t hurt to set a guard. We could set watches. One person per hour, and that way everyone would get enough sleep.”
Laina said, right on the heels of that, “Forty minutes. Eight hours, twelve watchers, forty minutes each. Or forty-three minutes and forty seconds to a watch period, and everybody is left with eight hours fifteen seconds sleep.”
Hannah wondered how she did that so quickly. She’d need to get out pencil and paper to check the figures. She said, “And we’ve been too lax about the latrine. Everybody needs to go in pairs. At least pairs, and trios would be better. No more shyness about that.”
“I really don’t want to look at that,” said Ted, with a grin.
She didn’t smile back. “And I really don’t want you to. You should be looking out for danger while the other guy is going.”
Bob said, “Hannah’s the ranger. She has more experience with wild animals than the rest of us. If she says we need to be more careful, I say we listen to her.”
And that seemed to be the end of the discussion. M.J. gave a non-committal shrug, but he didn’t argue with her again.
* * *
Hannah took a team out for wood collection the next day. They needed to make more spears and they needed firewood. The dried dung was a more plentiful fuel source, but it didn’t turn into coals that would work in the steam pit. For that they needed logs. And they’d already stripped the nearest stands of trees, so today they were exploring even further away. There were four of them, two to keep watch, and two to work. It slowed down the work to keep so many on watch, but Hannah thought it was safer.
Not that I feel very safe, she thought, as she took over the watch duties on the north side of the grove of trees. After three weeks here, despite that they were adapting and managin
g to get enough food to survive, building and learning, every day she felt less safe, less secure. She was just as worried about food, and more worried about predators.
Much more worried about the saber tooth.
As if her thinking about it had summoned it, she saw it step from a tall patch of grass, moving due west, along a distant crest of a low hill.
Hannah froze, not wanting to attract its attention.
It stopped and lifted its nose into the breeze. Its mouth opened, and she had the feeling it was tasting the air. What did the air tell it? How far away could it detect an odor? Her odor?
The breeze was from the west, though, not from her direction. If she stayed still, she would be safe. She hoped.
Behind her, there was a sudden crack, the sound of a limb breaking. The saber tooth’s face turned. And it caught sight of her.
How well did it see? Was she a blur to it? Or could it make out every detail, even the gooseflesh rising on her arms? It took a step toward the grove of trees, and another. Not running, not stalking—not yet, at least. Just a cat-footed tread in their direction, the lump at the base of its neck moving in a sinuous roll.
Hannah muttered, under her breath, “Don’t you have friends to go play with?”
She regretted saying that not three seconds later. The long grass parted, and out came a second saber tooth, almost as big as the first. It looked no different than the first. A relative? Were they a pair of females? A mating pair?
It didn’t matter. They were a hunting pair now, and that’s all that mattered.
“Guys,” Hannah called, seeing no reason to stay quiet any longer. “We have company again.”
A crash through brittle leaves as Rex and Garreth scrambled up the slope to her lookout spot. “Again?” said Garreth.
“There are two,” said Rex. That’s not good.”
“No. It’s not. I think we should leave now, while they’re still that far away.”
“We could climb a tree,” Garreth said.
“I think they could climb them too.”
“Oh, yeah. Duh,” he said.
She turned and trotted back to the cover of the trees, waving them along with her. “It was a good thought. I bet you we could escape from the Hyaenodons, or a bear dog, or one of those entelodonts that way. But not these guys.” She called out, “Claire, where are you?”
“Here,” came her voice from beyond the trees.
“Stay there. We’re coming.”
The three of them met up with Claire, and Hannah turned and looked back. “They can’t see us right now. Let’s run while we can.”
“What about the firewood?”
“Leave it,” she said. “Take a piece of the spear wood.” She ran back to where they had piled likely branches and grabbed four, then handed them out. She felt more urgency this time. Maybe it was the sight of two of the predators. Maybe it was some other instinct at work. “Let’s go.” And she broke into as fast a run as her boots would allow her.
Rex outpaced her, and she almost called him back, but she realized she shouldn’t. Let whoever had the speed get the chance to run the farthest. Claire was falling behind. “Sprint,” Hannah said to her. “Give it all you’ve got.”
The grass slapped against her legs as she ran. Her breath began burning in her lungs. No matter. One foot in front of the next, fast, faster. She glanced back. Still no sign of them. The land had flattened out by now.
“Where’s the cave? How far away?” asked Garreth, gasping for air between the questions.
“Miles,” she said, and her heart sunk at the realization. They couldn’t make it back there. What to do, what to do? Her eyes scanned the land ahead. One point of land seemed to rise a little. She could head for that and hope to duck down behind it. But it was to her right, farther from the cave, not closer.
Ahead and to the left, there was a patch of grass that looked thicker. “This way,” she said, and headed for it with a new burst of speed. She called ahead to Rex and pointed where she was headed.
There was a small dip in the land right there. Perhaps water pooled for longer, and the grass had more of it. It was both greener and more lush than the grass around it. She avoided trampling it, went around it and hunkered down behind, putting the thicker grass between her and the stream.
Rex had angled back and joined her, breathing hard but still able to speak. “They just came out of the woods,” he said.
“Claire, Garreth, hurry,” Hannah said. “Get hidden back here.” She honestly didn’t think it mattered. If the saber tooths had picked up their scent at the trees, they could hide all they wanted, but the nimravids would still track them. It was only a slim chance that hiding would put them off the track. But she wanted to catch her breath, and let the others do the same. It felt better to do it back here, out of sight of the creatures.
“The rest of the way, we walk,” she said. “Steady, no running, no sign of fear. Just try to keep the distance between us and them.”
“What if they attack?” asked Rex.
“That’s why I grabbed the spears.”
“They don’t have a point on them yet.”
“No, but they’re better than nothing.”
“You have your knife, right?” Claire panted.
“And my belt.” She wore her collecting belt all the time, with its dental picks and even the hammer. Yeah, it was extra weight to haul around, but she figured something on there might come in handy one day. She’d hate to be left fighting a saber tooth with a dental pick, but it’d be better than her fingernails.
“Do we have to run again?” Garreth asked. “I’m still catching my breath.”
“We’re going to walk—I think. Let me get a peek at our stalkers.”
She lifted her head until the grass tops were sparser and looked back the way they had come. The two saber tooths were holding up at the stream for some reason.
Maybe they lost the scent at the stream.
“Guys, we might have lucked out. They aren’t coming.”
“Really?” Claire said. “I want to look.”
Hannah put a restraining hand on her shoulder. “In a minute.” There was no reason to risk getting spotted by the animals. “I’m thinking maybe the stream threw them off.”
“They don’t want to cross it? I had a cat who hated water,” Garreth said.
“That, or it’s making our scent trail harder to follow.”
“Like in the movies,” Rex said. “You know, the guy escapes from prison, dogs are after him, he always runs through a stream.”
“That’s right,” Claire said. “They do.”
“Let’s be quiet,” Hannah said. “They have good ears too.”
She waited until she had fully caught her breath and then risked looking up again.
The two animals had crossed the stream and were sniffing the ground, a dozen yards away from each other, pacing back and forth, smelling for their scent. One of them froze, put its face down in the grass, and looked up—in her direction.
Damn.
“They’ve figured it out, I’m afraid,” she said. “I think we need to move again.”
“How far away are we now?” Rex said. “From the cave?”
Claire said, “We didn’t run a quarter-mile.”
“No,” said Hannah. “We’re just as far away. Keep your eyes out for something—anything—else. Some protection.” She felt hopeless as she said it. There was no protection in this flat land. That they had the cave at all was a stroke of luck.
“I saw some rocks up ahead,” Rex said. “Maybe a half-mile off?”
Hannah looked above the grass again. The two cats were coming, side by side, following their scent trail. “Time to go. Rex, show me.”
He pointed off to the right. Again, it wasn’t in the direction of the cave, but there was a tumble of black rocks. It looked like the same rock the cave was made of, basalt. Maybe it was another cave. Or maybe there were spaces between the rocks where the two smaller kids could crawl in a
nd be safe. She and Rex could climb them. From a higher position, their defense would be easier. “Let’s head for it,” she said.
“The cave is over there,” Claire said.
“I know, hon. The cats are too close. If they decide to go for us, we’ll not make it another quarter-mile before they run us down. Those rocks may offer some protection.”
They struck out for them, walking at a good clip. She was afraid to run, afraid that would trigger the nimravids to chase.
Every few steps, one or the other of them would turn and check. The third or fourth time Claire did, she tripped over a tussock of low grass and fell.
Hannah grabbed her arm and pulled. “Up, up.” She didn’t want any of them looking vulnerable.
Claire got to her feet and picked up the unworked spear, which she had dropped. “I broke it,” she said, holding it up, sounding close to panic.
“No problem,” Hannah said. “Look, it broke at an angle, so it’ll be sharper anyway.” It had been six feet long. Now the longest piece was four. “Let’s get going.” She glanced back, and the cats had broken into a trot.
Uh-oh.
“Step lively,” she said. “Let’s make those rocks.” They were drawing nearer, but they were still a couple hundred yards away from them. She was speed-walking now, wondering if she should run. They halved the distance, and she turned to look. The saber tooth was closer, now. Much closer. Maybe four hundred yards. “Almost there,” she said, walking as fast as she could without breaking into a trot. She might be mistaken, but something—some deep instinct—told her that running would be the wrong thing to do.
As the kids made the rocks, a tumbled pile of charcoal-gray rocks not ten feet high, she stopped, and turned around, breathing hard. One saber tooth was still trotting along, a hundred fifty yards back. The other was nowhere to be seen. She looked to her left, her right, frantically searching for it, for movement in the grass. Was it circling them?
“There’s no cave,” Garreth said. “I was hoping there’d be a cave.”