by Chris Hechtl
“Yeah, well …,” Bret shrugged.
“How did you do all this? I mean … all on your own?” Miguel asked, changing the subject when he realized the other man was at a loss.
Bret felt relief at being let off the hook. “Well, for the past bit, I haven't been alone. That's made it easier. You have no idea how much a job is, how hard it is I mean, until you realize how much easier it was with two people. How you think of something as impossible suddenly becomes possible with another set of hands. I forgot that,” he said. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Hayden blushed over hearing the backhanded compliment and brushed her hair over her ear. He turned back to Miguel. “As to the rest, I grew up doing a lot of this. Camping, hunting, fishing, and the rest I got into watching survival stuff.”
“Survivor?”
“Oh, don't get me bothered on that. No I'm talking the real stuff. Wildman, Survivorman, Dual Survival, stuff like that. 'I caveman' had me thinking about what I would do … and here we are.” He waved his hands.
“Yeah, so where do we start?” Miguel asked looking around.
“I'll give you a quick tour since the ladies have done theirs, then we'll get an early lunch and then some work,” Bret said. Miguel nodded. He pointed out where the midden is, telling Miguel that they would make a shed outhouse for it eventually.
“Yeah, I'd certainly hate to be out in the cold.”
“Tell me about it. A chamber pot if possible,” Bret said. “I am so not looking forward to cold winters,” he said with a grimace. “Snow, the wind ….” He shook his head. The others nodded.
“You! Least you men can whip it out to wiz! We've got to squat!” the girl complained. The men just grinned. “Oh shut up,” she growled, rolling her eyes at them. “Men!” she said in exasperation. They chuckled. She dimpled but didn't complain anymore.
He explained about the foundation of the cabin, how he had placed it on the high ground since it was a good place for drainage. They nodded in understanding when he finished.
They examined the field stone foundation. Miguel whistled in approval. “Clay and all. Wow. It's not Quick Mix, but it'll get the job done.”
“I hope.”
“Yeah, there is that. Suck in the rain though.”
“Yeah. I mixed in sand, and I'm trying to bake it near the fire to harden it.”
“Think it will work?”
“I don't know. I hope so. There is a saying about a home built on a proper foundation,” Bret shrugged. “We shall see,” he said.
Gisel came over and commented about seeing it in a place she had stayed in Massachusetts. That earned a look of respect and a bit of brain picking.
Terri helped the woman make lunch while they talked. He showed them the outer wall and the rooster. He had caught another bird but it hadn't lived long.
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After lunch he took Miguel out for a quick look around the camp. The girls talked and did chores inside the perimeter wall.
Miguel told him his girl was having her period and spiteful as they walked. Bret grinned at that news. “You have my sympathies.”
“Yeah well, at least she's having it instead of not if you catch my drift,” Miguel said.
He froze and then nodded. “I do indeed.” He cleared his throat and then pointed out animal scat and tracks. Miguel crouched and then nodded as Bret explained different tracks, their direction, and how to read them properly.
When they started walking again, he pointed out where the grain was and different useful plants he had found nearby. “This is a good place to farm. Small, isolated, but we can get in to other areas easily. With work it will be defensible too, or well, more than it already is,” he commented. Miguel nodded.
They came back with a light load of grasses and plants. He pointed out the areas they had staked off as a truck garden inside the perimeter wall. “This reminds me of a castle. I saw one once,” Miguel said.
“Exactly,” Bret said as the ladies looked up. “I hope the seeds we planted will grow. We're using bird droppings and a compost for fertilizer. But I don't know much about farming. Not as much as being in the great outdoors,” Bret admitted.
“You've got to get the nitrates and soil mix right. I know a little but not a lot,” Miguel said, hands apart.
“Then you can maybe teach me a bit?”
“Hey man, fair's fair. But I warn you, I remember stuff only because my mom was into house plants and stuff. I didn't inherit the green thumb in the family.”
“Something is better than nothing,” Bret said with a shrug. “We'll wing it and learn as we go.”
“Well, yeah, there is that. Bird shit though?”
“My dad said it's full of fertilizer and nutrients. Nitrates,” Bret said.
“Ah. Just be careful you don't burn the roots.”
“Okay.”
He taught Miguel about making flint tools by the fire that night while picking the man's brain about all he could remember about farming. “This is called knapping. Knapping with a K. Flint knapping is a lost art,” he explained, showing his amused audience how to make flint hand axes, arrow tips, and other things.
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Early the next morning before dawn, he got up and then woke the others. He had a sleepy Miguel come hunting with him. They were lucky; they bagged an elk across the field with a shot from the bow. Bret rushed in to make certain it was dead. A couple more arrows and it stopped moving. They dressed its carcass quickly, draining the blood and then pulling the useable skin and meat off and brought them back by noon. It was a hot, sweaty, fly infested affair, but both men didn't complain.
“Home the conquering heroes come,” Gisel quipped when she saw them. She waved a hand to get the smell away. “With plenty of meat,” she said with a grin. “I'll forgive the smell this time though because I'm hungry.” Her eyes were bright at the sight of all the meat.
“If you want you can go back for more. We left plenty,” Miguel told her.
She shook her head. “Pass.”
“It's just as well. By now the predators have sniffed it out and are scavenging it. It's not worth the risk,” Bret said.
“I'm more worried about the cloud of flies,” Gisel said, backing away and waving at the pests. She wrinkled her nose, then coughed. “Gah! I think I just swallowed one,” she said in a strangled voice.
Bret snorted. Each man had carried over a hundred pounds of meat and hide so they were pretty worn out by the time they reached the gates. He handed over the raw skin and meat and then they washed up. Miguel talked with the women quietly as they ate. He then showed Miguel how to make and use the ax and adz, sharpening it by the fire. The women were working with Gisel to cut the chunks of meat up into strips and then using sharpened stakes to spit them over the fire. “I try to cut down one or two trees a day in the area. I also try to not kill everything, just cherry pick the ones crowding others. That way I'm not tearing the soil up.”
“Oh? Why not?” Gisel asked. She waved a fly away, then a few more that were trying to get at the piece of meat she was working on. “Shoo fly, you bother me.”
He turned to her. “Erosion. I don't want this hillside going away come next spring. Especially with me on it,” he explained patiently.
She blinked and then nodded. So did Miguel “Oh.”
“Smart.”
“I remembered that from a fire that tore a forest up. There was nothing anchoring the soil, so when the next winter storms came, the water saturated the soil faster than it could handle and it all came down in a mess.”
“Ah.”
He explained to them how to make a better bed out of pine boughs and other things. How to make a simple sleeping bag out of furs sewn together out of strips of leather. Also how to be on the lookout for parasites and to pick them off quickly. They had to change their bedding regularly to make sure they weren't infested.
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They felled a tree, taking turns with the ax. Then he showed him how to strip the br
anches and then rig a sling to drag the tree back to base. It was hard, backbreaking work but with extra hands well worth the effort.
“Damn hard work,” Miguel said, nodding gratefully as Terri handed him a cup of water. He took a sip. “Thanks, gal,” he said with a nod to her. She took the cup and went back to work.
“What now?”
“Dinner. I usually make stuff by the fire,” Bret said. He could tell though that Miguel was about done in. “But I think …,” he checked the grass pile and nodded. “Yeah, thought so. The girls have gone through all the grass,” he said and then grimaced. It wasn't like he minded all the grass skirts and hats the women had woven. It was just a bit excessive. He shook the annoyance off however.
“Fine man, I'm beat,” Miguel said relaxing.
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The next morning he showed Miguel how to strip the bark and then square the tree with the adz again. Then they worked on splitting trees for the planks. It was a slow process, but eventually with two of them, they got the hang of the process and got enough for a quarter of the floor he had planned for.
Miguel was impressed. “That is so cool! But dude, how you going to nail them?”
“I was going to try to mine copper. There is some above the falls, but I don't have the time,” he said, rubbing his back. “Or hell, the energy,” Bret admitted. “So right now, I'm using lashings or pegs.”
“Copper?” Miguel asked, eying him doubtfully.
“Green painted rock?” Bret asked. Miguel nodded. They both turned as Gisel came up behind them.
Gisel blinked then frowned thoughtfully as she caught on. “Wait … geology …,” she muttered. “Oh!” Her eyes flared wide as she caught on. She snapped her fingers. “Copper. I get it now.”
“And the rust red rock over that way,” he pointed to the northwest. “That's iron.”
“Oh!” she used her hand to shade her eyes, squinting to see. Then she turned back to stare at him. He shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable under her intent gaze.
“It's a little too far for now,” he admitted. She nodded crestfallen. “But eventually …,” he said. She started to smile again.
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With the crew they spent a week making the floor. They carved out holes and made dowels and wedges. It was tedious work but necessary for his plans. Their plans he reminded himself, looking at the others. They accidentally split a few planks in the process, knots were a terror. But they got it done over the week. When it was done, the floor was laid. It was rough and unsanded, but a floor.
“I'd rather make a full timber wall, but that's out. What I think we'll end up doing is framing a wall and then using wattle and daub. Maybe even burying the outside wall if we have to.”
“Ouch. A lot of work there, digging and all.”
He sighed and rubbed at his sweaty brow with his forearm. “Yeah.”
“What about the roof?”
“There is slate over there,” Bret said, waving a hand. “That away, about two miles give or take a few hundred yards. I think we can split that for shingles, baring that I can make shaker shingles with the adz. That might be the better thing to do. Easier then hauling rock all the way back here.”
“Too true,” Miguel replied with a grimace.
“But not with pine,” Bret said with a grimace. Miguel grimaced as well.
After a week they went back to trade with the others. Miguel and the two women decided to stay longer—a full month to make sure they absorbed as much as possible. Dwayne simply nodded much to Bret's surprise and Hayden's chagrin. He looked over to the woman and noticed she was a bit put out over the company but was doing her best to hide it. With other people around, Bret was inhibited, and they hadn't had sex in a while, which bugged her. He was usually so busy he dropped at night in exhaustion too. She knew it was all for a worthy cause but she now treasured her, their privacy. Hopefully come winter he'd be cabin bound for longer times to make up for the time missed. She frowned thoughtfully as she led the group back home.
The idea of the cabin being home and the realization that she thought of it that way made her think about the concept and toy with it for some time along the journey.
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They hunted once or twice a week weather permitting. If they came up empty one day they went out again the following day until they finally did make a kill. They bagged an elk, deer, pig, rabbit, or turkey, whatever was available. He checked the snare traps every other day and came back with rabbits and possum from time to time. The wire he was using was wearing out, but it was still better than using grass rope.
He showed the women how to make an improvised stew pot and how to boil rocks and use them for heat. The women liked the idea; it meant for a nice foot warmer in bed at night.
Hayden showed them tricks she had learned on how to skin the animals and tan the hides more efficiently. She had gotten over her squeamishness and learned how to improve not just her technique but also the tools she used. She was clinical about it all.
They used the slaughtered animal's brains to make the hides softer. The place stank a bit when they brought a carcass home and looked like a bone gallery near the fire until Hayden nagged the men into cleaning up. The mice, rats, and insects were becoming a problem. They had gotten the marrow out of the bones but had found throwing them into the fire stunk up the place.
He was fairly certain the predators in the area were attracted by the smell of the meat but repelled by the fires they kept going. He wasn't certain for how long though, so he started to get rid of some of the excess bones each time he left, tossing them in a ravine or other place away from his trail. He did teach Miguel and the girls a bit of scrimshaw and how to use some of the bones as tools.
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Bret heard Hayden outside the wall and went to check on her. She smiled and laughingly led him over to a knot of berry bushes he had thoughtfully preserved. When he hesitated she came and caught his hand and then tugged and head nodded for him to follow.
“What?” he asked when they got to the clearing in the center of the small grove. She had left a leather hide there as a blanket. She turned and kissed him when he saw it. When the kiss broke and he opened his mouth to protest, she kissed him again, then started to push him down.
“Hayden, honey, we've got …” she smothered his protests with kisses. When he didn't drop to the ground, she tried to trip him up. Finally, he got the message and let himself be knocked to the ground. When he protested again, she put a finger to his lips, looked about, and then straddled him. He felt a wave of feelings hit him as she smiled down to him, tucking her hair behind her ear. She bent down and kissed his protests away, then playfully pinned him. “I have my own plans for the afternoon,” she murmured in his ear, gently nibbling on it. “And you'd better behave,” she murmured wickedly with a nip to the nape of his neck. He chuckled and gave in to the inevitable.
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When they came back to camp a few hours later, they were hand-in-hand picking leaves out of each other's hair and disheveled clothes. Terri grinned at them and nodded. Gisel shot them a look, then rolled her eyes when Hayden shot her a wink and then tossed her the rolled-up hide. “Until next time,” Hayden said.
Bret paused and turned to protest, but she merely slapped his flank and then danced out of his reach. She grinned devilishly at him then made a shooing motion for him to get back to work. He snorted and obeyed.
“Dude, where've you been?” Miguel asked, looking him over.
“Don't ask, don't tell,” Bret said, looking at the woman. She made a show of bending over for his benefit. He sucked in a breath then let it out slowly.
“You're not into that, are you?” Miguel said, eyes wide. He turned back to the other man. “Cause man, I don't swing that way,” Miguel said firmly.
“What? No!” Bret protested then laughed. He shook his head. “Let's just say some things you have to learn to live with. And having a lady who wants your attention ….”
; Miguel caught on and then nodded. “Ah,” he said. “Shall we?” he asked, waving to the log. Bret sighed heavily and then nodded.
“Just don't expect me to be moving very fast. I think she wore me out,” he said. Miguel chuckled as they went to work.
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The next evening Miguel told them about Helen's corn discovery. “We found a few other odd things. Wheat too, but not a lot,” he said, nodding to the improvised sack they had near the food storage area.
“I see.”
“Have you noticed anything else? Other than the rings?” Terri asked. She looked curiously from one person to the other.
Gisel frowned thoughtfully and then shook her head. “No, not me.”
Hayden shrugged when the faces turned expectantly to her. Miguel was next, again a diffident shrug. Bret looked thoughtful though.
“What?” Hayden asked curiously. When he didn't answer, just poked at the fire, she poked him in the ribs.
“Ow!” he said, turning on her.
“Out with it. Or do I have to spank it out of you?” she teased wickedly.
“You wouldn't,” he growled, eying her. She merely grinned at him as the others snickered or guffawed.
He turned a glower on their unseemly amusement at his downfall, then shook his head. He sat back down on his rump to protect it as Hayden edged closer, then wrapped her arm around him. “Come on, out with it,” she said softer. She caught his gaze with her own, giving him a wide-eyed look.
“Don't do that. Damn it …,” he sighed. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But you're going to think I am crazy,” he said.
“Try me,” she said dryly. It was his turn to look at her. “We're on an alien world …,” she waved a hand to the sky above.
“That's just it; I'm not so sure,” Bret said carefully. They looked at him. He inhaled then exhaled noisily. “Okay, look. The other morning I was looking around and well, I saw this flicker out of the corner of my eye. But every time I turned my head, it was gone.”