by Erica Rue
She would not be able to reposition the rifle in time, so she raised her free arm to shield her face and neck from the attack. Instead of feeling pain, she heard a thud, followed by a yelp. Brian must have struck it.
“Back,” he commanded, brandishing the machete. Dione watched the creature back away. It had a short, rounded snout to match its short, rounded ears, and it was the size of a large dog. Not a wolf. Hyena? Dione thought. But what caught her attention more than its squat features was its fur, if it could be called that. Along its back were leaves, or a facsimile so close to the real thing she could hardly believe her eyes. These hyenas were masters of disguise.
“On your feet.” Brian was spinning from one direction to the next, trying to look menacing as other hyenas approached, but he couldn’t look in all directions at once.
Dione stood and shook off the pain in her wrist, readying the stun rifle just in time to shoot down the hyena that was running toward Brian’s turned back.
An eerie, almost-human laugh rose up from the undergrowth in front of Dione. It caught like wildfire as more of the hidden hunters joined in. Instinctively, she and Brian stood back to back as they realized the horrifying truth. They were surrounded.
16. DIONE
“How many?” Dione asked.
“Maybe five or six. I can’t tell.”
Before she could come up with a plan, the hyenas began attacking, one after the other. They made quick charges, offering little more than nips at her arms and legs. She fired a couple of shots but missed. It was hard to aim at close-range targets while dodging wildly in the onslaught.
They weren’t going for the kill, but Dione didn’t have time to wonder why as she fended off another attack, this time stunning one of the hyenas.
“They’re trying to separate us. Hang on,” Brian said, swinging his machete again. Another yelp as his target limped away.
The beasts had determined that she was the weaker one and were trying to isolate her so they could more easily kill her. Not gonna happen, she thought.
She managed to stun another, though her overall accuracy wasn’t very good. In order to track the creatures, she had to rotate her whole body, which reduced her reaction time. With two of their number stunned and two more injured, the hyenas halted their attack, disappearing back into the undergrowth.
Brian paused, as though ensuring there would be no second wave, and then turned to her. “You okay?”
“A few bites, but I’m fine.” Blood was dripping down her left arm from the deeper puncture marks, and her hands trembled. She didn’t think she was seriously injured, but seeing that much of her blood made her momentarily lightheaded.
“We need to get out of here,” Brian said.
Dione took a few deep breaths to steady herself. She didn’t know if the hyenas would attack again once they started moving, but it was a chance they had to take. “Lead the way.”
They moved at a light jog through the trees, slowed at times by patches of thick undergrowth. She felt droplets of blood roll down her arms and legs, staining her remaining sock. Her right calf began to ache where one of the creatures had bitten her, but it wasn’t bad. The heat, on the other hand, was starting to get to her. When she dared take her eyes from the path in front of her, she caught glimpses of the hyenas still stalking her, waiting for their chance.
She turned and fired a few shots into the bushes where the creatures with their leafy fur blended in so well. She missed and was met by the hyenas’ mocking laughter.
When they approached the next tree, Brian adjusted his course. Where were they going? What was the point of all this?
“We need to find a defensible position,” she said. “Maybe then we can pick off these last ones.” There were at least two in pursuit, maybe a third that was injured. “Like an outcropping of rock we could keep at our backs?”
“I haven’t seen anything like that. Plenty of trees to climb, though.”
Before Dione could respond, the eerie laughter rose up again, sending chills through her body. She nearly ran into Brian as he halted abruptly. Glancing ahead, she realized why. Two of the hyenas blocked their path, laughing as they slowly approached.
“Oh no,” she said, her stomach sinking. “We only saw the ones they wanted us to see. There were more out there this whole time. They let us escape while the others got into position.” She looked at the blood drying on her arm. They were hoping my injuries would weaken me, she thought.
“Watch out!” Brian shouted. The warning was too late. A hyena leapt toward Dione’s neck, catching her shirt in its mouth. It might have missed its mark, but snagged the fabric with its teeth. The garment pulled tight against her throat, and she fell backward onto the ground.
Immediately, the other hyenas joined in, making quick attacks as they tried to avoid Brian’s machete. This only slowed their onslaught. Dione tried to protect her neck and other vital areas, flailing her legs, kicking anything that came too close, but there were too many of them.
True panic set in, and Dione fought with everything she had, ignoring the pain of the fresh wounds. Some were deeper than those from the previous attack, but Dione didn’t care. She was struggling to stay alive.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew there was no hope. Brian couldn’t fend off so many, nor could she from her prone position, but the will to survive was not something she could turn off even in the face of certain death. She screamed, but that only made the attacks come more quickly.
She couldn’t stop screaming. She stopped only to take a breath, and in that gap she heard a strange sound. Music. Was Brian singing? The assault stopped as quickly as it had started.
Dione didn’t waste time getting up, now that her attackers had backed off. It didn’t make any sense. She could still hear the melody. She looked at Brian, but his mouth was closed. He appeared as confused as she felt, looking around for the source of the music.
The hyenas were backing away. She let her guard relax, just a bit, but that was enough. By the time she saw the hyena in her periphery, Brian was already reacting. He didn’t have time to position his weapon, so he tackled the beast to the ground before it could sink its jaws into her neck.
The source of the music was getting closer, the melody stronger.
Brian struggled against the creature, but he was at a disadvantage. Dione raised the stun rifle that was still strapped across her shoulder. They were too close together for her to get a clean shot, but it didn’t matter. She could stun them both. She could drag Brian through the woods if need be. She fired and got lucky, hitting the hyena.
Then, the source of the music came into view. A tall, bearded man rushed into the fray the next instant, knife raised. Still singing, he dispatched the hyena, managing to do so with less blood spatter than Dione would have imagined possible. Brian had a few bite marks, but seemed mostly unharmed.
Dione wondered who the man was, but her question was answered before she even had the chance to voice it.
“Dad?” Brian asked. The look on his face, one of pure joy and relief, filled her weary body with energy. They had done it. They had found his father. Well, technically he had found them, but that didn’t matter. Brian’s dad was alive and standing right in front of them.
17. BRIAN
Brian gazed up at his father’s face. There were more wrinkles there beneath his beard and at the corners of his eyes, and his hair, once jet black, was almost completely gray.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” the man said, pulling his son to his feet and clapping him in a full embrace, unfazed by the hyena blood on his chest. “We need to get moving. I’m sure you have questions, as do I, but they’ll have to wait.”
Brian burned with questions, but he had waited this long. He could manage a little longer.
His dad looked at Dione and smiled. “I’m Oliver.”
“Dione.”
“You’re bleeding quite a bit, but we can’t stay here.”
Brian frowned as he looked Di
one over, but she seemed okay.
“Most are shallow bites,” she said. “I’m more worried about the risk of infection. Puncture wounds are notorious for that.”
“We’ll make sure to clean the bite wounds thoroughly,” Brian said.
His dad looked around, corners of his mouth dipping into a frown. “Can you walk?”
She nodded. “I can walk.”
“Good. This way,” he said, beckoning for them to follow. He began singing again, and Brian recognized it as the song he had heard just before the hyenas backed off. Now that he was listening closely, it was less a song than repeated series of notes. Things clicked into place.
“The tune!” Dione exclaimed to Brian. She had pieced it together, too. He wasn’t surprised. “Jameson must have genetically programmed them to flee when they hear this sequence.”
His dad stopped singing and gave her a wink, then glanced to Brian.
“This one’s got a head on her shoulders,” he said. Addressing Dione directly, he asked, “A recent Aratian deserter? I don’t remember you.”
“Umm,” Dione looked to Brian for help.
“Not exactly,” Brian said. “Dad, there’s so much to explain.”
“Save it for dinner. We’ll be home soon, and we need to get you both cleaned up.”
Brian looked at the blood coating Dione’s clothes and arms. He would let her go first.
“Home?” Brian asked.
“What passes for home out here, anyway. It’s a little place I built and fortified once I realized I was stuck here.”
Home turned out to be a tree house with layers of protection. A sad-looking fence surrounded the tree, but Brian recognized the filamentous tangles placed at short intervals along it as the stinging moss. He reflexively touched his neck, which was still sore despite the aloe.
“Don’t touch that moss,” his dad said.
“We know,” Dione replied, casting a meaningful glance in Brian’s direction.
His dad grimaced. “Once you know what to look for, it gets easier to survive out here. Hope it didn’t get you too bad.”
“Brian got the worst of it.”
“I can see that. On the neck, huh? What’s that mark on your torso from? It doesn’t look like the moss.”
“A giant sundew,” Dione replied.
“Never heard of it, so you’ll have to tell me all about it later. First, let’s get you checked out,” Oliver said. “You both look a mess.” His voice had returned to a regular volume, but still caught in his throat with emotion. “There’s water out back. I’ll be there in a minute.” He climbed up the ladder into the tree house. Brian recognized the flooring. It had been made with pieces of his father’s boat. The walls and roof, however, had been woven from local materials.
Dione and Brian walked to the back of the tree and were amazed to find not just barrels of water, but a transport system that was channeling water from what Dione presumed was a nearby stream.
“Incredible,” she said.
Brian smiled. “He always liked to tinker.”
“This is more than tinkering.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Oliver reappeared, holding some spare clothes and a small drawstring bag that fit neatly in the palm of his hand. “Here are some clothes, though you’re welcome to wash your own and leave them out to dry since they probably fit you better than these. I’ve also got a spare shirt for you, Brian, but it’s a little more worn.”
“No problem,” Brian replied.
“What’s in the bag?” Dione asked.
“Soap! Not as refined as the stuff we made back home, but it’s better than nothing,” Oliver said. He was grinning. Brian had never seen his dad so happy about soap before, but then again, he had a feeling it wasn’t the soap.
“I saw a rabbit in one of my traps on the way back, a close one, that I want to clean for dinner,” his dad said.
“I’ll help.” Brian looked at Dione, whose arms were covered in dried blood. “You can wash up first.”
“You sure?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he replied, grinning. “You look terrible.”
She rolled her eyes, but returned his smile. “Thanks. I feel gross.”
Brian left Dione to her shower, glad to finally have a chance to talk with his dad. The only problem was that he didn’t know where to start.
“How far out is this rabbit?” Brian asked.
“Shouting distance of the tree house,” his dad said, stepping outside the fence and leading the way into a copse of trees.
“I get why you did it. You came out here because you thought the Farmer was lying about creating us,” Brian said. “You were right, you know.”
“Yes, but I was wrong about what he was hiding. I expected to find a thriving civilization on this island that could provide me with answers. Instead, I found poison and venom and fangs. The most important thing I’ve discovered out here is that family is more important than asking questions and getting answers. I got so wrapped up in my own theories I lost sight of what really mattered,” Oliver said. “I regret coming out here. All of the answers and all of the new questions weren’t worth this. I’m sorry I ever left you. You and Bethany deserved better.”
Brian, who had been following, stopped. In the moments it took his father to notice, tears had begun streaming down Brian’s cheeks. Once he saw his son’s tears, Oliver’s own resolve broke, and he embraced Brian once again.
“I’ve missed you every day. I think about you and your mother every morning when I wake up and every night when I go to sleep. It’s what kept me sane out here.”
“We’ve missed you so much,” Brian said, pulling back from his embrace to wipe his eyes with a dirty hand.
“After everything I did to try to get back to you, I’d given up hope of leaving this island. Instead, I dreamed of rescue. I never thought it would happen, but here you are. You found me.”
Brian closed his eyes, and a few more tears rolled down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized it until that moment, but he was no longer alone. He was no longer the sole caregiver for his mother, the one making all of the decisions, carrying all of the guilt and worry. His father was alive, and they would figure everything out together. He might even have some ideas for getting through to Victoria.
“We don’t have a way off the island yet, but we’ll find one,” Brian said. “Others will come for us. There’s so much to explain. I don’t even know where to start.”
“On a full stomach,” his father replied, offering him a sleeve to dry his eyes. “Let’s go get that rabbit.”
They might still be trapped on this island, but they were stuck here together. And if there was a way home, they would find it.
18. DIONE
They left Dione to the tepid water, which she used to rinse the blood off her body. A few of the deeper puncture wounds started bleeding again. They made her uneasy. Puncture wounds, because of their shape, were more prone to infection because they were difficult to clean well.
They would be rescued soon, though, and she’d have access to the Calypso’s supplies again. Now that they had found Brian’s dad, they had a safe place to rest and wait. Surely Victoria would spare a Flyer to come get them now.
She stepped into the Ficaran-style clothes. They were too loose, and Dione took Oliver’s advice about washing her own. Even with a few holes, they’d be much more comfortable. She bandaged her worst injuries and went to find Brian and Oliver.
They were butchering the rabbit in the dying light, and Dione noticed the soft light of glowglobes lighting the area, though all but one were unlike any she had seen before. They were varying degrees of translucent.
Oliver followed her gaze. “I only brought one with me. Propagated the rest myself. Again, I couldn’t refine the resin like the Aratians do, but I manage to get good enough light out of them.”
“Do you ever eat hyena?”
“It tastes terrible and the texture’s bad, but it’s protein. Once it’s dried with
the right herbs it’s not so bad. Normally, I would’ve brought that hyena carcass back with me.” He turned to his son. “I’ll finish up here, Brian. You should go rinse off.”
Still shirtless and covered in hyena blood, Brian made no argument. He headed in the direction Dione had come from. She stood off to the side, watching Oliver work.
“How did you survive out here?” she asked. “We’ve been here a day, and it’s been one thing after another.”
“There was a bit of an adjustment period, some close calls, and a lot of luck.”
“You’ll have to tell us about them,” Dione said.
Oliver stopped his work for a moment and looked at her. “You don’t sound Aratian, and I know you’re not Ficaran. I’ve been gone a while, but not that long. Who are you really?”
Dione opened and closed her mouth to speak several times before finding the words. “I think Brian should be here for that.”
Oliver peered at her, but returned to his work. “If my son trusts you, then I suppose that’s good enough for me.”
An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as Dione watched Oliver butcher the creature. Her mind wandered back to the attack in the woods, how one hyena hadn’t fled with the others.
“What about the hyena that didn’t flee?” she asked. “That tune you were singing. It repelled them, didn’t it?”
“Yes, all except that one. Usually the song repels all of the hyenas, but every so often, one is completely unaffected. I make sure to kill any like that so they don’t spread their genes. If this response to music is anything like what I’ve seen in maximutes and machi, which I suspect it is, then it’s genetic. I’ve seen it before with machi. Every now and then we’d get one born that didn’t know the songs.”
“What happened to those machi?”
“They weren’t much use as mounts, but I promise we didn’t let them go to waste.”