A Dawn of Mammals Collection

by Lou Cadle

  Hannah said, “Please make it close to Dixie and Claire’s, so if there’s any trouble at night, I can be there in five seconds.” She had remembered to leave her solar light to charge by the fire all day, and she tested it now. It was nice and bright. She wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  “Look over there,” said Zach. “Across the lake.”

  Over on the other side of the lake was a pair of uintatheres. Even from this distance, they looked huge.

  Ted said, “Think how long we could eat on one of those.”

  “Waste of meat,” Bob said. “An oreodont is just right. Unless we come up with some way to smoke meat. Or find a salt source to mine and then salt meat.”

  “They’re so ugly,” said Zach. “I guess not to each other, but sheesh.”

  “What about that Gollum-faced thing?” Jodi said. “That was no beauty contest winner, either.”

  “Which one was that?” Ted said.

  “Oh, we saw it out in the grass. I think a predator, but really small.”

  Zach said, “And it did look something like Gollum. Big eyes. Round ears.”

  “Stripes in the fur,” Jodi said. “It was the size of a small dog. Not small like a Chihuahua, but smallish, like maybe a cocker spaniel.”

  “It didn’t show aggression?” Bob said.

  “It didn’t see us,” said Zach. “I think it was looking lower, like for something to eat at ground level, mice or something. It was alone.”

  Bob said, “Maybe a hyaenodon of some sort.”

  Ted said, “Those were big animals the first place we were.”

  Bob said, “They’re smaller here. And they are varied. In ten million years, most of the species will be entirely different.”

  Laina said, “We’ll get another twenty-million-year jump next time. So almost everything will look way different.”

  That started them wanting to talk about what else Laina had figured out about the timegate, but Hannah cut it off. “We can talk while we build a place for us to sleep tonight. But not while we walk over there. Be wary for animals coming to feed.”

  Across the way, the uintathere snorted out a stream of water, its multiple horns and immense size providing a better warning than any words Hannah could devise.

  Chapter 13

  The next day, they started building their permanent home. If Laina was right about the timegate’s appearance, they’d only get a little over three weeks’ use of it, but three weeks behind a solid wall sounded pretty good to Hannah. They were lucky that the snake’s was the only nocturnal animal attack so far. Maybe the nature of the debris hut fooled predators, made them doubt their noses. Maybe the smell of humans was so strange they didn’t imagine it could mean food.

  She let Claire continue to fish, and she set Dixie to tend the fire and keep watch for Claire. The rest helped build the cabin.

  They had enough bricks for several rows, but not enough for the whole house.

  “Maybe we should use some stones,” Bob said. “Big flat stones, mortared. Then stack bricks on top of those.”

  Rex said, “I think all brick is better, though yeah, it’ll slow us down a couple days. And I’ve been thinking about leveling them. We have that one sports drink bottle with the printing stamped into the plastic. Who has it?”

  Packs were dug into until the bottle was found.

  Rex said, “All the other labels fell off weeks ago, which is a shame. But this has printing right in the plastic. So we can set it on its side, half-full, and because of the printing it’ll work as a level. What I don’t know is if we should be putting the bricks onto something. Or digging down. Maybe set posts, and run a course of bricks with holes in them? Maybe carry sand over here and make some sort of base layer?”

  “You’re thinking it might fall over?” Hannah said.

  “Or collapse under an animal attack. I don’t think one of the uni-things or rhinos can make it through the trees, but maybe they can. So yeah, seemed to me that more stability is good.”

  Hannah said, “Well, we have some of the bricks with holes, so we can do the anchor thing, drive hardwood rods down into the ground.”

  Zach said, “How do we measure? For putting the poles in the ground, I mean?”

  Bob said, “Just lay the bricks out in a square, like we’re going to be using them.”

  Rex said, “Hang on.” He went to the stack of bricks they’d been piling up and took down a half-dozen. “I want to show everybody what I’ve been thinking of for the corners.” He began to stack bricks, offsetting a second row of them.

  Jodi said, “I’ve never really noticed what brick houses look like before, but I guess that’s right.”

  Bob said, “There are a couple of different common patterns, I think, but I’m with you, Jodi. I can’t bring but one of them to mind.”

  Rex had the corner built. The edges weren’t flush.

  Hannah said, “My fault. I didn’t think that through. They need to be a two to one ratio, don’t they? Width to length.”

  Rex said. “Doesn’t matter that much, I don’t think. Not for strength. It’s fine if there’s a bit sticking out like this.”

  “I can keep the width and alter the length though, on the next bunch.”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “Either way.”

  Nari said, “I’d like to sleep in it tonight.”

  “We can,” said Hannah. “It’ll be just a short wall, and no roof, but if it makes people feel safer to sleep behind a wall, they can do that instead of staying in their debris huts.”

  “Then we need to get started now,” said Bob. “Rex, I guess you or Hannah is the foreman.”

  “I think I can direct the building,” Rex said, “but Hannah can decide who does what.”

  Hannah let people volunteer for what they wanted to do. Nari wanted to work on making more bricks, so Hannah started with her, making sure she had the right consistency for the mud, talked her through how to add the straw, and made her two measuring sticks to keep the bricks consistent.

  Nari said, “How did you do that before? Measure them, I mean?”

  “Used my boot to measure. But I need my boots, so I can’t give one to you!” Hannah smiled at the girl. “I’ll be just over here, barely out of sight. I hate leaving you alone, but you can call out if you need us.”

  “I think I’ll be fine,” Nari said. “I won’t be talking, so a predator would have to stumble over me.”

  “Okay. Just holler if you need us.” She went back to the cabin site to see how it was going.

  The morning’s work had started slowly. Rex was meticulous, but Hannah had learned over the months—almost ten weeks, now—to let him have his head. His method of trial and error worked more quickly than anything she could have done. But that did mean they built two trial walls, tore them down, and were finishing that chore as Hannah arrived. The third time was the charm. Rex approved the wall.

  Jodi said, “It’s none too big, is it? We’re going to be sleeping close again.” She shot Zach a look that Hannah caught.

  Good thing we had that little talk. I hope it took.

  The two of them had been digging holes for the posts. Bob had been collecting the sturdiest branches he could find for those, using the hand axe to take off side branches.

  Rex said, “Okay, let’s get the posts finished and the first row of bricks.”

  The practice before helped them find a rhythm of work quickly. The first course was laid in no time. The whole building was only about 10 by 15. There was room to walk along one side, with people lined up in a row and a center space for supplies to stay piled up. There was a door on one side, which they planned to make some sort of closure for, and they left another, smaller space on the opposite wall. Rex said he’d figure out some way to make a fire pit there that vented smoke outside while providing heat inside, useful if the nights got colder.

  Hannah was happy to leave the brainstorming to him.

  Bob and Ted went out to the fire to bring back the last of the fire
d bricks.

  Rex said, “I wonder if we have to bake them all. If it’s possible to just use raw bricks now.”

  “Sun-dried might be good enough,” Hannah said. “Not actually wet. In the shade here, it’d take them too long too dry, I’d think. But I still think it’d be stronger if we bake them.”

  Ted and Bob came back, lugging a tall stack of finished bricks each.

  Ted set his down, but Bob must have tripped over something. He stumbled, and fell, and the bricks went scattering out. One landed on Zach’s foot. He yanked his foot back and hopped on the other foot twice before putting it back down, gingerly.

  Jodi was at his side in an instant. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, surprised me more than hurt. Good thing I’m in hiking boots, though,” he said.

  Hannah was more worried about Bob, who was lying on his side, curled up. She hurried to his side. “Bob? You okay?”

  “No,” he said, through gritted teeth.

  “Did you break something? Strain something?”

  “My chest,” he said, rolling over to his back and pressing a hand against his left side. “I think—heart.”

  Chapter 14

  “Bob!” Hannah said, fear shooting through her body like a poison. “You think you’re having a heart attack?”

  “Don’t know,” he said. “Hurts.”

  She didn’t need to be told that. His voice, his face, the way he held himself told her he was in serious pain.

  Hannah was out of her depth. She had training on a portable defibrillator. But that wasn’t going to do her any good here. She reached a shaky hand to his neck to check his pulse. “Can you breathe?”

  “Hurts,” he said again.

  She didn’t even know if flat on his back was the best position. Elevate his head? Feet? No idea. Calm down, Hannah. Think. Okay, airway was most important. He was breathing, in shallow breaths. “Jodi, come here,” she said.

  In an instant Jodi was on her knees, at Bob’s side. “See if lifting his head onto your leg makes it easier for him to breathe,” she said.

  “Hey, Mr. O’Brien,” Jodi said, scooting around. “Everything’s going to be okay.” As if Bob’s head were an egg she didn’t want to break, she lifted it and put it down gently on her calf.

  “Better?” Hannah asked.

  He raised a hand and made the “okay” sign.

  Hannah’s mind flashed on the little packet of aspirin in the first aid kit. She had never used it for an injury. For one thing, she was usually trying to stop bleeding, not to thin the blood. And for another, two aspirin hadn’t been nearly enough to do anyone much good. Everyone had had to suffer with their pain up to now, including her. But now, these pills might actually do some good.

  “Ted, somebody, my first aid kit,” she said.

  In a few seconds, it was in her hand. She dug through it and found, at the bottom, the little packet that contained just two pills. She tore it open, said, “Water,” and held out her hand. A bottle was slapped into it. She took one of the aspirin and bit into it.

  Gah. Bitter, horrible stuff. She chewed it twice with her front teeth and then leaned over and stuck a finger into Bob’s mouth. She spit the crumbled-up aspirin in and said, “Swallow.”

  His face showed his opinion of the taste too. “Get it all down,” she said, holding the water bottle for him. “Raise his head a little more, Jodi.”

  “Why’d you do that? Chew it up?” she said.

  “Make it easier to swallow,” Hannah said, “and maybe work faster.” She could feel a piece of it stuck between her gum and upper lip. She fished it out, smashed it flat with her fingers and said, “Open wide, Bob.”

  He opened his mouth.

  She pushed the bit of aspirin under his tongue. “Try to keep it there. I know it tastes like crap.”

  He made another face as the bitter stuff dissolved further. He lasted about a minute before holding his hand up for the water bottle.

  She helped him drink more water. “Now relax, as much as you can. Don’t move, don’t worry, don’t even think.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “Think about something nice, then.” She took the packet with the last aspirin and fished out one of the tiny zippered bags for fossil collection. She put it in there, zipped it up, and put it back in the first aid kit. Nothing else in there was of any use right now. Maybe the aspirin wasn’t either, but it was all she could think to do for him.

  Was Bob having a heart attack? He seemed fit, and he was a little young for it. But she didn’t know his medical history. Maybe his father had died of a heart attack at fifty. She should have asked everyone about medical history.

  And then you would have done what, exactly, about that information?

  The irritating inner voice was at it again. No, of course, she wouldn’t have been able to do anything. Except maybe nudge Bob toward less strenuous tasks. She probably should have done that anyway because of his age, though he might have balked.

  Zach said, “Is he going to be okay?”

  “Absolutely,” Hannah said. “It might just be angina. And he’s conscious, and breathing. So it can’t be bad.”

  It could be bad, but she didn’t want Bob to hear anything but complete optimism from her. Stressing him out with worry was the last thing she should do. She glanced behind her and saw a semi-circle of teenagers, kids who had known Bob for at least a year. Some of them had known his wife too, a few years back when she had taught them. They were understandably worried.

  And if Bob died, they’d be left with one adult. Her.

  The reality of that hit her. However she’d been indulging her grief for Garreth...that had to stop right now. She was the leader. Even if Bob was having only a minor angina attack, she wasn’t going to let him do hard work for the whole rest of the time here in this epoch. He’d lie back, or he’d sit and make cordage. Period. No argument.

  And that meant everything else fell to her. Everything.

  And if you die?

  She had to do something about that. Back when the saber tooth had attacked, she had talked about the kids appointing a leader. She needed to press them to do that. Ask them to sit down and hold elections, discuss it. Not now. Maybe not even in front of Bob. But soon. If Bob died of a heart attack, and she was killed by a hell pig or smashed flat by a uintathere or had a stupid accident, she didn’t want the group descending into chaos.

  But who would she suggest? Rex was great at thinking through problems, great at engineering, but not so great at social interactions, and a little too inflexible. Laina, no. She knew the timegate, maybe, but she was too spacey to lead. Dixie, no way. Ted, possibly, if he were a little less of risk-taker. Zach—you know, he was maturing into quite a young man. Jodi, maybe. Claire, another good candidate.

  But it really shouldn’t be up to her. It should be up to them. They would have to live with the decision. All she could do was point out qualities they should consider: a cool head in a crisis. Fair. Organized. It dawned on her that it would be a little like student council president voting, something they were familiar with. But this election carried life and death stakes.

  Bob seemed to be breathing easier. His color was pale, but he looked to be in less pain, the creases around his eyes and forehead having smoothed out. Jodi was talking softly to him and his eyes were open. He seemed to be tracking everything the girl said.

  Hannah patted his knee. “I’ll be right over here.” She rose to her feet and took the first aid kit back to her pack and put it away.

  Laina said, “He’s okay?”

  “Resting. And I think the aspirin helped already.”

  “What’s wrong with him?” Zach asked.

  “Chest pain. At worst, a heart attack. But it could just be pain, maybe a warning sign of heart problems to come. Either way, I want him to do no physical work at all for the next three weeks.”

  “Until we jump, you mean,” said Laina.

  “Exactly. And maybe not even then. There’s still plenty he can d
o. Make cordage. Sharpen spears, watch the campfire. But nothing that involves real work. In fact, he’ll be sleeping here tonight.”

  Ted said, “We can carry him into the house.”

  “Let’s make more house right now so he’ll be better protected,” she said. “Rex, where were we?”

  It took them a few minutes to shift their focus, but soon everyone but Jodi was back to work. Hannah checked Bob in a half hour, telling Jodi, “Call out if you need anything,” and went back to help the work crew.

  There was nothing she could do for Bob—not by hovering over him—but at least she could get them all better protected this night.

  Chapter 15

  By mid-afternoon, they had run out of bricks. Rex said, “I’m going to work on the design for the fireplace, if that’s okay.”

  “Good,” she said. “Zach, you and Ted go gather grass the rest of the day. And plenty of it. We need bedding for Bob.”

  They all had checked on Bob from time to time, but he seemed to be doing much better. “Hardly hurts,” he said, when she asked him about his chest. “Jodi can leave me alone, I think.”

  “Rex is right here,” she said. “Okay with you, Rex? To watch Mr. O’Brien?”

  “Sure,” Rex said. “Can I ask him questions?”

  Bob nodded.

  “Sure. Just don’t make him carry bricks.” She lowered her voice and said to Bob, “Seriously. You need to just sit there and do nothing. Got it?”

  He saluted her, with a weak smile.

  “Thank you, Jodi,” she said. “Let’s you and me get going on more bricks. We can fire them overnight and add at least another row to what we have tomorrow.”

  First, she ran out to the fire and checked on the two girls. The fire was going strong. Dixie had—as requested—expanded the kiln area by digging. “Great,” Hannah said. “Looks like dinner is coming along too.”

  They had a pot of fish stew going. Zach had found some onions. Dixie was just adding a handful of them to the stew.

  “Looks like there’s plenty of fillets to fry too,” she said.