Hunted (Eden, #2)

by Louise Wise

  He looped the dangling end of the chain around his waist, tucking some of it in his waistband. His fingers brushed the seashell necklace. His dream had seemed so real. He raised the necklace to his lips, kissed it and then fastened it back around his neck where it jangled against the neckband. He stood up. Around him were tall, thickly bladed grasses, coiled trees and mountains, and he didn’t recognise any of it.

  He shuffled into the undergrowth, and like a creature from the damp jungle, he found a marshy patch and allowed his body to sink down until he disappeared beneath the sticky bog. Then he rose up until only his nose was above the swamp. He was completely invisible; a trick he’d used to hunt the elusive herd at night. He closed his eyes and waited. The Jelvias would soon notice the riderless animal and its empty trailer and come back.

  He was right. But the sound of hooves and shouts of Jelvian voices didn’t disturb him, and as dawn came he was left alone. He emerged from the swamp when both of the suns had risen and shuffled as fast as his foot chains allowed. He needed to get them off, find his bearings, and get back to Jenny.

  A squawk caused his head to rear up. A large black bird was swooping down, and Fly’s throat impulsively expanded. But the bird’s talons sank into a small grazing animal, and his throat relaxed as he watched the fight between animal and bird. The animal had no chance against the long, hooked beak, and the chaos the bird caused with its relentless flapping of wings. The animal lay dead, its body steaming, and the bird stood on it as it pulled it apart bit by bit.

  Fly thought the planet offered no more surprises but this territory looked strange with its dust twisters blowing up and dying just as quickly, cracked plain and little vegetation.

  Before him, the landscape stretched low and far, which made him realise he was on high ground, and far higher than the cliff-face he’d climbed in search for his kind all those months ago. He shuffled onwards, his pace slow, until he was forced to stop by a sharp drop. Boulders, large and small, lay below, which told him this had probably once been a mountain until the climate wore it away.

  He lowered himself down too quickly, slipped and fell on the unstable stone and landed, winded, on his back, his head cracking against a rock. He sat up, cursing his chains, the crumbling rock and all Jelvias. He shuffled over to a boulder and sat with his feet either side, and using a rock, he began to bang away at his bonds.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Diana gurgled and kicked on a bed of fur spread over a flat-topped rock. Jenny pulled herself out of the steaming lake just enough to peer at her and check that she was OK before lowering herself back into the water.

  At the back of the cave, there had been several fissures in the wall. Some opened into other cave-rooms while others led into the bowels of the mountain where hot geysers fed into underground rivers making them warm. And Jenny had followed a well-worn path with Diana in the body harness; it was a relief to get away from the jabbering honnards for a while. She’d washed the baby in the warm water, dried and fed her, and then laid her down on the fur while she went for her swim.

  She had felt grubby, and it was liberating to feel the warm water slide over her body. But she couldn’t enjoy it, Fly wasn’t far from her mind. She didn’t want to dwell on it, but the only thing that could have happened was that there had been more Jelvias and Fly had been captured. She didn’t want to think of the other possibility: that he could be dead.

  She’d brought another fur, and lay on it next to Diana as the steam dried her body.

  She couldn’t rely on the honnards to find Fly—she didn’t even know if they understood her appeal but she couldn’t just sit around and wait for him. She had to be strong for her daughter. She had to hurry her body to get over the birth. She closed her eyes and slept, dreaming of Fly shouting himself hoarse for help; calling her name over and over.

  When she woke, there were tears on her face. Diana was snuffling for food, and Jenny picked her up. The baby automatically turned her head towards Jenny’s breast. She leant against the rock to feed her. Once the baby’s appetite was sated, Jenny swaddled her in fur and slipped her back into the body harness. She tied the other fur around her shoulders, and climbed out of the warm caves towards the cavern of her new home.

  Mum appeared to look at Jenny with disapprovement as she settled down on her bed with Diana.

  ‘Where have you been?’ she seemed to say. ‘You shouldn’t be moving about yet. You’ve just had a baby!’

  ‘Chuff Chi-Chi,’ said the new-mother honnard as if in agreement with Mum.

  Jenny had decided to name her Melinda, after a friend back on Earth. ‘And you haven’t moved at all,’ she said, ‘and that’s milking it, lady.’

  ‘Melinda’ grinned and panted in quick succession.

  Outside, there were delicious smells of cooking. Jenny’s stomach rumbled and she told herself she wouldn’t be so picky and eat what was given to her this time. She’d eaten a carton of dried food, mixing it with water from a flask that Fly had dropped into her provisions. She silently thanked him for his foresight.

  ‘Chuff-Chi-Chi, fari, huff-chuff,’ Melinda said, holding her baby against her chest one-handed as it suckled hungrily on a brown nipple. She was looking at Mum as she chatted. It was nonsense to Jenny, yet it meant something to them.

  Jenny sat and listened as they continued to talk until she could hear the tiny nuances in their voices. The words, similar to each other, yet Jenny noticed it was the tone that was different. She soaked it all up.

  Mum went out and came back with two large curled graddy leaves and inside were chunks of meat and some kind of vegetable. This time Jenny ate hungrily and Mum chuff-chuffed happily at her, she went out again and came back with a two shell halves. The shells were from a large hollow nut that was usually filled with a fatty liquid that Jenny used for cooking. Jenny and Melinda were handed one carefully. The juice had been replaced with water.

  Jenny felt so comfortable sharing the cave with Melinda, that the next day she dragged her bedding over to lay next to the cavewoman.

  Melinda chuffed at her, and Jenny smiled in return. Then the cavewoman lowered her over-large head and sat staring at the ground.

  It was surreal; as if Melinda had suddenly became overwhelmed with shyness.

  Jenny smiled to herself and to pull the blanket back over Diana. The baby was asleep beside her and had kicked the blanket off in her sleep.

  Melinda chuffed, and Jenny turned her head.

  Slowly, warily, the cavewoman held out her precious baby to Jenny. Surprised, Jenny took the wrapped bundle in her arms and looked down into an incredibly human face. The creature had light hair beneath its chin, and its eyebrows were a light monobrow, but its tiny mouth, ears and button nose were human. A small fist was pressed against its mouth, and Jenny edged it away with her finger—the fist uncurled and then wrapped itself around her finger just like a normal baby would.

  Jenny looked back at Melinda questioningly.

  ‘Chuff fari, huff-huff,’ she said, beaming her strange smile.

  Jenny looked back down at the baby. It was instinctive when Jenny raised the baby up and lightly kissed the top of its fair head. She handed the baby back, and Melinda made it comfortable on the nest of furs next to her. Then she looked at Jenny expectantly, and held out her arms.

  ‘Oh no. No way.’

  ‘Chuff-nuff-fari, chi, huff,’ Melinda said.

  Jenny glanced at Diana lying in her cradle of fur and soft bracken. She’d kicked off the blanket again. Jenny looked back at Melinda. The honnard still had her arms outstretched expectantly but her eyes held a keen awareness that told Jenny she probably understood her disquiet.

  ‘Chuff-fari,’ Melinda said.

  Jenny nodded and gently picked Diana up. She cuddled her then placed her into the honnard’s arms.

  Melinda cradled the child against her saggy breasts. Diana opened her eyes fleetingly. She didn’t care who held her, as long as she was comfortable. Melinda ran a hand lightly over Diana’s
downy head, and Jenny held her breath at the short black claw-like nails on her daughter’s head. Then she, just like Jenny, lowered her head and pressed her lips against the baby’s head.

  It was a surreal moment.

  A momentous one.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  An icy wind lifted dust and it danced over the plain and stung Fly’s bare flesh. In his hurry to leave their house he’d not thought to collect any clothing for himself, believing he could go back at any time to collect needed items—he was still in the same clothes he’d worn when fishing that morning.

  There was a grazing animal: it was the same species that had been used as transport and Fly approached it cautiously, thinking hard. As he crested a hill his eyes widened in surprise as he saw that the animal was part of a large herd. Keeping a look out for giant birds, Fly moved down, slipping and rolling in his hurry. The plain got rockier, with tufts of yellow grass, which the animals seemed to be feeding on. He was close enough for them to notice him, and several made a whinny noise of warning, and the herd moved away. Fly watched them for a moment, then unravelled the chain from around his waist. The chains around his wrists and ankles, he’d cast away, but the longer chain he’d kept. He made a loop in the end.

  Then he ran.

  He ran towards the herd, and swinging the chain he looped it over a bucking animal and brought it to a skidding halt. The creature bucked and reared, and Fly was dragged off his feet when the animal began to run. He dug his claws into the ground to slow the creature down, and then pulled it to a stop.

  It gave a high-pitched whine, flaring its nostrils, and looked at Fly with obvious fear in its wide eyes. Fly made soft sounds in his throat that was meant to calm it; he’d heard Jenny use the same sounds when she milked their cows and they stood still for her. The milk he collected ended up spilt.

  He gathered the chain up and brought the animal closer until he was able to reach out and lightly stroked its withers. The creature flinched, and Fly murmured more words of encouragement as his touch developed into long strokes. The animal stamped it hooves and tossed its head but Fly stepped closer still.

  He waited until he thought the animal was used to him, and taking a clump of mane in his fist he threw one leg over to sit astride. His backside barely made contact before he was thrown off, and dragged until the animal threw off the chain.

  Fly picked himself up and ran after it again, catching it, and pulling himself up onto its back. This time he lay low over the long neck, and gently stroked the sweating flanks while murmuring words of encouragement.

  Fly found himself lying on the ground and staring up at a cloudy sky.

  The animal snorted, and trotted away.

  Fly rolled on his side and watched as the creature lowered its long neck to search for food on the dry plain. He reached into his pocket and brought out a lump of bread. It was stale now, but it was something he used as bait to capture the cattle in their prairie. He stood up, and moved towards the animal. It was a strange-looking thing. Long neck with a coarse mane that ran from its neck, through the middle of its back until it hung down into a tail on its rear end. The body was sturdy and the legs looked too delicate to carry it. Patchy grey in colour, the creature tossed its angular head, flicked its tail and began to move away from Fly.

  He wondered what Jenny would call it. She used English names for things that were similar on her home planet. They’d eaten apples, bread, melons although he hadn’t a clue as to what those foods were. They’d made anaesthetic and wine, but Fly didn’t really know what they were only that the anaesthetic healed wounds and the wine made him light-headed.

  Fly stood up, and holding the end of the chain, he inched towards the animal. Jenny once told him she had a pet animal that she rode as a child. It was called Pip, and she rode it in something called gymkhanas. She told him all about the races she’d won and lost, and how it was all done for fun. Nothing was done for fun on Itor. He found her world bizarre.

  Thinking of her made his mind wander, and ‘Pip’ had moved away. He had to focus and he forced her from his mind.

  Fly caught the animal with the chain, and stood back from its flaying hooves as it reared. He didn’t attempt to ride it but continued to hold it steady until the animal tired. When it was quiet, he offered it a piece of the bread. The animal’s mouth was whiskery and soft as it licked it up.

  Fly walked it towards a distant mountain range; the same range that could be seen from the crater of his old spaceship, only now he was on the wrong side of it. The other side would be a familiar landscape. His landscape.

  He made sounds of reassurance every time Pip stopped, and gave it nibbles of the bread. When the animal was willingly walking alongside, Fly looped the chain around its strange angular face and made reins from the ends. It danced around on its funny feet, but after a few more soft words and nibbles of bread, it calmed.

  Fly used a bolder as a stepping stone to mount rather than vault on, and sat astride, still murmuring soft words while stroking its long neck. The creature skipped a little but then seemed to forget Fly was there and lowered its head to nibble something on the ground. Encouraged, Fly gently pressed his heels into its flanks and the animal moved forward with a toss of its head. Using a mixture of the mane and the chain, he urged Pip towards the mountain range.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  She was dreaming of Fly. It was always the same dream: he was calling her name over and over, but this time the birds were drowning out his calls with their screeching. It was penetrating. She woke with a jerk, automatically spinning towards Diana. The baby was asleep. But the noise wasn’t in her dream. It was outside.

  A continuous squawking of a bird.

  Or birds.

  Melinda sat up as she awakened and scooped up her baby in one movement. Then Mum came out of the hole from the rear of the cave and jabbered something. Melinda scampered towards her with her baby. She looked back at Jenny. ‘Huff-huff, Chi-Chi.’ Come on, Jenny.

  Jenny snatched up Diana, nest and all, and followed them to the rear. Instead of going next door, she was taken down to the warm lake. To her surprise, she found they weren’t the first there. The child honnards were already there and were strangely quiet.

  Aware they’d been evacuated, Jenny settled with Melinda and the babies. She was puzzled though. The birds, although frightening while trying to defend yourself alone on a beach, were no match for big strong honnards. She laid Diana down, patted Melinda’s arm, and indicated that she watch Diana.

  ‘Chuff-chuff,’ the honnard said, dropping her gaze to the baby. She shuffled closer to it as Jenny walked back the way she came, and was about to pull herself up through the narrow crevice and back into the cave when she heard her “name” being called.

  ‘Chi-Chi, chuff-nardi.’ It was Bo. He was leaning against a rock. The wound in his chest was covered with a large yellow leaf. The leaf was sticky and considered to have healing properties by the honnards.

  ‘Why have we been evacuated, Bo?’

  Bo stared at her impassively.

  She turned from him and pulled herself up into the cave. As she entered the dark cave, the squawks immediately filled her head. She edged slowly to the cavern’s mouth wondering why it seemed darker than usual, but soon saw that a rock had been shoved in front of the opening to protect the cave’s inhabitants. Jenny peered through a gap, but couldn’t immediately see anything. All she could hear was yelling and howling. Lots of yelling. But the language wasn’t native.

  It was Jelvian.

  A honnard ran into her line of vision, he was followed by a Jelvia who looped a chain around its neck. He whooped with delight as the caveman fell to the ground. Another Jelvia jumped off a strange-looking creature that looked like a cross between a short-necked giraffe and a horse, and hit a panicking native across the back of the head with a stick. The ‘stick’ had a loop over one end, and when the honnard fell to the floor, the loop was slipped over its head. Another Jelvia ran past, kicking over a carefull
y arranged stockpile of wood and rocks. He disappeared from view, but another jumped down from the ledge above the mouth of the cave where Jenny was hiding, making her start. He ran forwards and scattered a group of honnards. Jenny saw Zack run out of the trees, his spear aloft, teeth bared. He threw it, and dived to one side as a Jelvia spat. Jenny couldn’t be sure if he’d been hit or not. But a Jelvia lay on the ground clearly dead with a spear sticking out of his chest.

  There were lots of yelling and howling, and there was no doubt in Jenny’s mind that these Jelvias had captured Fly—or killed him.

  ‘Look at this!’ someone shouted, and Jenny saw a Jelvia take the effigy of her from a tree. ‘The prims believe in her!’

  ‘There are loads of them,’ someone else said. ‘The prims believe in her.’ The gap she was peering through darkened as the Jelvia pulled the stick doll from above the cave’s entrance.

  This close Jenny could only see the lower half of his legs. Another Jelvia joined the one outside her cave and the doll was either dropped or thrown to the ground.

  A heel crushed it into the dust, making her believe it was the latter. ‘Utter rubbish,’ the perpetrator said. ‘How many prims have we got?’

  ‘Four.’

  ‘That all? Where’s the others?’

  ‘They ran into the forest!’ someone said. ‘We came in too hard! They’ve run.’

  The grinder of the doll swore, and his legs moved away. Then it was over. They left behind their destruction and moved off to find more unsuspecting prisoners. Jenny lowered her head into her arms. How many Jelvias had there been? It was hard to tell, but how could she, a lone woman, fight them and rescue her man? If he was still alive. Somehow, she didn’t think he was. She began to cry. Great sobs shook her shoulders.