Eviskar Island

by Warren Dalzell

  “It was still wrong for him to take it,” Spencer frowned.

  “Yes, yes it was,” lamented Endicott, "but Randrup dutifully logged it into our inventory of artifacts. He never hid what he’d done, and we all knew he would care for it better than any museum could. So we let him wear it.” He looked in turn at each of the students. Tears welled in his eyes as he dropped his gaze and stared at the ground. In little more than a whisper he said, “I took it from his corpse, and I want to show it to his next of kin once we get out of this wretched place. I was going to give it to someone who loved him, but you’re right, Spencer. It belongs to the public, and it should remain on display here in Greenland to be forever associated with the fine human being who discovered it.”

  Endicott stood and walked to the back of his shelter to take stock of the supplies that were piled there. He regarded the assortment of hides, food stores and wooden implements he’d needed to support his long stay on Eviskar Island. “I need time to assemble the gear necessary to construct a litter to haul your friend Debbie safely up that cliff face.” He shook his head, “Yesterday I may have been a tad overly optimistic about her rescue. The more I think about it, the more I fear it may be too dangerous for a helicopter to lift her to safety given the high winds and the mist above that steep cliff. If the three of you would be willing to carry out the food, and a few provisions, I’ll set out shortly with the other materials we'll need.”

  The two older students were itching to get started and needed no further encouragement. “Let’s split the remaining cynodont meat between us,” Jocelyn said to Jack, “and, Spencer, you carry the cycad biscuits, but be careful not to get them wet when we cross the river.”

  “I’m staying wit' the professor,” her young colleague announced. “You guys take most of the food ‘an leave enough for the two of us. Doc Endicott is gonna need help carryin’ all this stuff.”

  Jocelyn didn’t like the idea of leaving Spencer behind. She figured the best way to coerce him to accompany her and Jack was via a lighthearted approach. “C’mon, Spence, we’re gonna need you for protection. What if Malarkey or some other what-do-you-call-‘em, gorillasaur attacks us? Who’s going to distract him?”

  Spencer rolled his eyes. “It’s ‘archosaur,’ ‘an like I said, Professor Endicott may need help. There’s a lot ‘o stuff to bring to help Debbie. I think he’s gonna need me.”

  Jocelyn was flustered but didn’t let it show. Maybe Endicott was all right. Maybe, in fact almost certainly, her premonitions about the guy’s mental stability were totally unfounded. She half-heartedly made one last effort to change his mind. “I’m just worried that if we show up without you, Debbie will freak out. She’ll be concerned for your safety.”

  Spencer chuckled, “It’s your safety I’m worried about. Dr. Endicott has lived here for a year. I’ll be a lot safer wit' him than wit' you.”

  “If the lad wishes to accompany me, I welcome the fellowship,” Endicott said jovially. “He and I have much to discuss. You and Jack be careful on your hike to the cliff. It would be best for you to go back the way you came—through the valley, across the river and then up the gentle slope to the northwest. Do you think you can manage that?”

  “No sweat,” Jack responded. “I know the approximate bearings and distances we travelled to get here. We’ll just reverse them for the return trip.”

  Jocelyn patted Jack on the back and quipped, “I trained him well, Professor. His built-in angle measuring device is well calibrated. We’ll be fine.” Endicott appeared to be in excellent spirits. All concern for Spencer’s safety went away as she and Jack cinched their packs and prepared to leave. “Please hurry, Professor Endicott,” she said as they departed, “Debbie’s life depends on us.”

  “Spencer and I will be along shortly, Jocelyn. We’ll take a short cut through the hills to the north. It’s rugged, but lessens the distance somewhat. I suspect we won’t arrive too much later than you will.”

  Jocelyn and Jack waved as they rounded the hill behind Endicott’s hut and disappeared into the mist.

  For the first half hour Jack and Jocelyn walked with singular purpose. Time was of the essence. Their leisurely breakfast and late start meant that they wouldn’t make it to the cliff before darkness set in, but they wanted to cross the river and camp at higher elevation once the time came to stop. Already the thermometer had hit at least eighty degrees and the air had become much more thick and humid than it was at Endicott’s camp.

  “I feel like a sieve,” Jocelyn complained, “like one of those cartoon characters that gets hit with a shotgun blast. When they take a drink it just pours out all the holes. I’ve never sweated like this before.”

  Jack regarded her with concern. Something was bothering Jocelyn. She wasn’t just dehydrated; she looked haggard. She was exhausted and cranky, even more cranky than normal, but of course he’d never comment on that. He was certain she hadn’t slept the night before, and he didn’t think it was from worrying about Debbie. “A penny for your thoughts,” he said when they stopped to refill their water bottles from a small stream. “And I mean your thoughts. Don’t hold back. What’s on your mind?”

  She looked at him and saw the seriousness in his countenance. He wasn’t the usual smiling, upbeat Jack. His eyes were boring into her with evident concern. “Dr. Endicott is weird,” she muttered.

  Jack waited for her to elaborate, but Jocelyn merely sat on a nearby rock, closed her eyes and massaged her neck. He wasn’t about to drop the subject. “I agree,” he replied, “but I don’t see why that should upset you so much, keep you from sleeping.”

  “I spent hours last night thinking about Endicott’s situation, and a bunch of things don’t make sense.”

  “Such as?”

  “First of all, he doesn’t seem to be too concerned about Debbie. And he wasn’t exactly in a hurry to get started this morning. You’d think he’d want to get to the beach as soon as possible, you know? After all, he’s been marooned here for over a year.”

  “That might not be as abnormal as it seems,” Jack noted. “The fact that he’s been here for so long—that can have all kinds of psychological effects on people.”

  “And look how fit he is. The guy faced down a lizard wolf that wanted his kill. And after that we had trouble keeping up with him on the hike to his hut, despite the fact he was carrying a dead forty pound silo-whatchamacallit thingy.”

  “A very tasty cynodont,” Jack offered.

  “I started thinking how easy it would have been for him to scale that cliff. There are plenty of vines around, and tough pieces of leather. He could have fashioned a strong rope and safely climbed up that steep top part. It’s only about thirty feet and there are good hand holds. A desperate and determined man would have tried it. What would you have done in his situation?”

  Jack nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I guess I’d have climbed out, but I’m an experienced climber and anyway, that rockslide he was in had to have been traumatic. That might explain any apprehension on his part.”

  Jocelyn shrugged. Jack had a point. He was using logic—sort of—but she was using something more powerful—feminine intuition. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that Endicott was hiding something. She shouldered her pack and motioned for Jack to get moving. Once they were on their way again, she asked, “Did you happen to notice some of the possessions he had in his shelter?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Of course you didn’t. He had a coffee-table-sized book about Vikings and a large cooking pot. Who the heck goes hiking along a rocky ridge carrying books and cooking pots? And I saw an apple core lying under his pack. What about that? It certainly wasn’t something left over from a year ago, and there are no apple trees on this island, no flowering plants, remember? Even if there were, you can’t just drop a seed into the ground and grow, say, a tree that produces Golden Delicious or Macintosh apples. You wouldn’t know what to expect. All modern eating apples are grafted cultivars.”

  Jack abrupt
ly stopped and turned around. “Just what are you implying, Jossy?”

  “The only ways Endicott could get those things would be to either raid the supplies back at the archeological site or make trips to and from the island. I suspect the former explanation is by far the more likely of the two. In other words, he knows a way out, yet chooses to live here. Something strange is going on, Jack, and as for you, you poor guy, you can’t see it because, like all men, you lack women’s intuition, that sixth sense we have when it comes to understanding human behavior. All other indications aside, Dr. Endicott’s behavior and mannerisms tell me he’s lying. He’s hiding something.”

  Jack pondered what she’d said. “So I’m clueless and lack intuition, but at least you admit that I’m a man.”

  She put her hands on her hips and glowered. “Really?! That’s all you got from what I just said; the fact that I’m aware of your gender?” She pushed past him and continued walking down the trail.

  They moved along smartly for some time before Jack said meekly, “I was just kidding.”

  Another moment passed before she spoke. Still walking briskly, and without turning around she said, “For what it’s worth, I’ve definitely noticed you’re a guy, okay? A really nice guy. Furthermore, I find you very attractive.”

  * * *

  “Professor Endicott, I got enough meat ‘an biscuits packed for the bote of us. What other stuff do you want me to take?”

  “Ah, good. There’s a satchel in the hut containing several large animal hides. We may be able to use them to fashion a basket in which to carry your friend Debbie. Just how big is she? How tall?”

  “She’s about my height, but she weighs a little moah.”

  “Good enough. Come sit here while I select what we need.”

  Spencer sat just outside the entrance while the Doctor rummaged inside, searching. Moments later he heard Endicott’s footsteps and turned around.

  A fraction of a second before impact, Spencer raised his hands to protect his face. Endicott swung the handle of his spear like a baseball bat, aiming a vicious blow at the boy's head. The club knocked Spencer’s hand against his face and the youngster fell to the ground. Endicott stood over his stunned victim with malice in his eyes.

  “Wha…what’d ‘ya do that foah?!” Spencer asked in disbelief.

  “Good, you’re bleeding. Stabbing you would have been painful—for both of us,” was all the man said. He produced a leather thong and expertly bound Spencer’s hands behind him.

  Spencer had a bloody nose. The front of his shirt was gradually turning crimson, and the sweet taste of the blood running down the back of his throat made him gag. The Professor lifted him to his feet and propelled the stumbling and thoroughly confused young man to the ravine into which he had jettisoned the cynodont entrails the previous evening. Upon reaching the precipice, they half-walked, half-slid down the steep slope to the bottom, and then made their way along the stream to the rocks where the lizard wolves had dined only hours earlier. Shoving Spencer onto his stomach, Endicott then bound the boy’s legs together. “I’d taken quite a liking to you, Spencer. You’re a smart young bloke. It’s too bad you have to die.”

  “Why?” wailed Spencer. His face was streaked with tears and blood. His nose and cheek were swollen and painful. But the real hurt was psychological. Endicott was someone whom Spencer had looked up to. This survivor, this world expert, had treated him as a kindred spirit, almost as a professional equal. The incredible turn of events had broken Spencer’s heart.

  “Yes, I suppose I owe you an explanation. Young man,” he bent down and patted Spencer on the shoulder, “I hate to do this, but I mustn’t allow any of you to return to civilization to tell of this mysterious world. You see, a thousand years ago, give or take, there were other visitors to this island, and like you and me they discovered its secrets. That archeological site up the coast?” he waved dismissively, “it’s really nothing, a few huts and an old fishing village. I do believe the reason for its existence was merely to lead the curious away from the beach and low ridge that you and your colleagues stumbled upon as a route to the island's interior.”

  Endicott thrust his left wrist up close to Spencer’s face. It bore the bracelet Jocelyn had uncovered back at the hut. “This is Viking gold, my young friend, and it represents but one piece among the thousands that have been cached in several places within this prehistoric world.

  “Well,” Endicott stood and stretched, “I’m afraid I must be off. It’s time to stage what promises to be a nasty ambush of your friends. I’m afraid there’s no other way. I would have clubbed all of you to death last night but for the watchful eye of that bitch, Jocelyn—stayed up the entire night she did. I daresay she might have dozed off if she hadn’t stumbled, literally, upon the bracelet. Ah well, in a few hours none of that will matter.” He scrambled several feet up the slope of the ravine before turning to address his victim one final time. “As a budding paleontologist, there may be some consolation in knowing the scientific name for the beasts which will soon devour your remains. ‘Cynognathus’ is the technical term. It’s a bit bland in comparison to ‘lizard wolf,’ don’t you think? And for what it’s worth, I don’t believe you’ll suffer much. On several occasions, having watched them make a kill, I was impressed with how calmly their prey succumbed. I do believe they’re somewhat venomous, their saliva must contain some sort of powerful anesthetic.” With those final words, Endicott disappeared over the edge of the ravine.

  Spencer lay still against a moss-covered rock. The air was calm and humid, the only sounds he heard were the gurgling of the little stream and the desperate beating of his own heart. He pulled against the thongs that bound his hands, but Endicott had tied them so tightly he couldn’t move his wrists at all. Similarly, the Doctor had lashed his legs together from just below the knees down to his ankles. In the back of Spencer’s mind, beneath the numbing fear, he knew that in order to survive he had to extricate himself as quickly as possible from this macabre dining place of the lizard wolves. His efforts to move, however, were decidedly unsuccessful. So securely had he been trussed, he couldn’t so much as roll over.

  Spencer began yelling for help. He pleaded for someone to come and cut his bonds. He cried out to his parents in English, in French, in Mohawk. He conjured up desperate hopes that searchers or rescuers might be looking in his vicinity for him and his lost colleagues. He called out to Charlie, his friend with the hot dog stand, the man who knew him so well, who always rendered such sage advice whenever Spencer had a problem. What counsel would the old man have for him now? Finally, he called out to Jack and Jocelyn. If either of them were suspicious of Endicott’s motives, maybe they had circled back to check on him.

  But all of his entreaties went unanswered. Abruptly Spencer stopped yelling and began to whimper. Who was he kidding? No one was coming to help him. He began to cry softly.

  It was between sobs that he first heard it: a chorus of short, high-pitched grunts. They were approaching quickly up the ravine. Spencer stopped crying as panic overwhelmed him. He launched into a superhuman effort to break the leather straps that immobilized his hands, but it was for naught. The thongs simply grew tighter, cutting into his skin. A horrified look crossed his face as the foliage below him rustled and the first animal broke into the ravine.

  XII.

  Jack stopped abruptly.

  “What’s the matter?” Jocelyn asked. She plopped down onto a fallen tree and took a large swig from her water bottle, then soaked her bandana before replacing it around her neck. Grateful for the break, she relaxed and looked up at her companion. He was standing exactly where he’d stopped, a look of serious concern on his face.

  “We took a wrong turn,” he replied. Extending his fist at arm’s length, he did his navigation thing and nodded to himself. “Yep, we’re too far south. Darn it! I should have been paying closer attention. We should have veered to the west over an hour ago. If we want to cross the river at the head of the lake, we have to turn
back.”

  She looked around and sighed. “I think you’re right. This terrain is strange. We certainly didn’t come through here yesterday.” She looked at him and sensed bitter disappointment. “Hey, it’s not your fault. I should have been more attentive as well.”

  Jack shrugged by way of assent. “We may as well head back. Who knows what we’ll encounter if we cross this valley this far downstream. Doc Endicott said the archosaurs live down south, and we’re on our way there. Let’s just go back and swing west once we get to familiar territory.”

  They hoisted their packs and plodded back the way they had come. Both were hot and exhausted, and the enthusiasm of the morning had long since worn off. It was a long way back and the only way to get there was to keep moving regardless of the fatigue that had set in.

  After an hour of slogging through fern fields, conifer forests and circumnavigating one large cycad grove, Jack spoke. “My navigational error really cost us, Jossy.” He was bitter and angry. Jocelyn had never seen him upset like this. “What with that late start we got, we’re not going to make it to the river by nightfall.” He turned to face her. “And that,” he added emphatically, “means we won’t get to Debbie and Marcie until late tomorrow. And THAT means,” he continued, “Debbie won’t make it to the beach until the day after tomorrow.” Tears of frustration moistened his eyes. “That poor woman. She’s so badly hurt and I’ve singlehandedly prolonged her suffering.”

  The strain of being away from Debbie, of not having yet rendered any real help to her, was having a profound effect on Jack. Jocelyn felt it too, but not nearly to the same extent. In her mind they’d done all they could, but Jack’s sense of responsibility evidently ran much deeper. He was really upset.

  Acting on impulse, Jocelyn put her arms around him and held him close. The bold move surprised Jack. Anxiety abruptly replaced frustration, and he stood stock still, not knowing how to react. Jocelyn held on, pressing her head against his chest. Soon he responded. At first he gently patted her shoulders, then he relaxed and returned the embrace, hugging her tightly and stroking her hair. They stood that way for some time, neither wanting to let go, both considering the awkward moment when they would separate and be forced to admit to the attraction each had for the other.