Dawn of Mammals (Book 4): Killer Pack

by Lou Cadle

  Chapter 25

  The fog had almost cleared by the time Laina returned.

  As she walked up to them, Ted said, “About time.”

  Laina stopped in her tracks and stared at him.

  After a full minute of her staring, he flushed and looked away.

  “Laina, are you okay?” Hannah said.

  “Fine,” she said. “Are you ready to go back to your cabin?”

  Claire said, “You know we have a cabin?”

  “I’ve seen it.”

  “Wait,” said Jodi. “You’ve been watching us? But you didn’t tell us?”

  Laina turned her stare to Jodi, who stared back belligerently.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Hannah said. “We’re glad to see you now.” Selfishly glad too, in Hannah’s case. She’d been feeling responsible for Laina’s disappearance and likely death, and with her reappearance, here was another soul she didn’t have to blame herself for losing.

  “Fish are packed. Bottles are full. Let’s go,” Claire said. “I’m sure everyone will be happy to see you.”

  Laina was carrying something in her hand that Hannah didn’t recognize. She had no pack. She was barefoot. But she held this long wooden thing Hannah couldn’t imagine the purpose of. “What’s that?”

  “To throw spears.”

  “Oh. Like a—” Hannah had to dig through her memory for the word. “An atlatl. Gets you more distance?”

  Laina nodded, but jerkily, as if it was something she was just remembering how to do.

  As they rose out of the river valley, the last wisps of fog were left behind.

  Jodi said, “Let’s not do that again.”

  “What?” said Claire.

  “Go anywhere in the fog. Too dangerous.”

  “Fishing was good, though,” Claire said. “And we didn’t lose anyone, thanks to Laina’s help.”

  They had caught a couple days’ worth of fish in about two hours. Hannah and Ted had cleaned them, and then they had unloaded the net, which had another dozen good-sized fish trapped in it.

  As they approached the cabin, Laina began to lag.

  Hannah didn’t think it was from exhaustion. She dropped back to walk next to Laina, making sure to keep a couple feet between them so as not to crowd her. “It’s okay. I’m sure it’s overwhelming. But remember everyone likes you. We used to be friends, right? We will be again.”

  “You don’t lead them.”

  She’d been quick to pick up on that. “No, they elected Claire.” She smiled. “As their alpha, so to speak.”

  Laina stopped. Hannah stopped too and waited for her to say something or act. She was staring at the cabin. Dixie had caught sight of her and was pointing.

  “It’s okay,” Hannah said again, feeling as if she was gentling a feral animal.

  Laina turned to her and with a flat expression pointed at herself. “Lone wolf,” she said.

  “I understand. When you get overwhelmed, walk away.”

  Laina gave another jerky nod, and she walked once more toward the cabin.

  By this point, the whole group was roused. Everyone was looking this way. Rex said to Ted as he arrived ahead of the others and tossed down his pack, “Is it really Laina?”

  Nari was crying. Bob was walking forward to greet them. Everyone else was staring. Hannah could feel the tension emanating from Laina and half-expected her to turn and bolt. She tried to convey with her expression a warning to Bob, but his eyes were on the tall woman.

  “My gosh, you’ve grown up,” Bob said.

  Laina said nothing.

  “We’ve missed you something awful.”

  Still nothing.

  “They thought you were dead,” Bob said, pointing back at the tearful Nari and shocked expressions of the others. “So did I.”

  “I’m good,” Laina said.

  Bob glanced at Hannah then, puzzled.

  “I forgot something,” Laina said, and she turned away.

  When Bob made to follow her, Hannah reached for her arm. “Sixteen years without human contact.”

  “Sixteen?” Bob looked at Laina’s retreating back. “Wow.”

  “She’s older than me now.”

  Bob shook his head slowly, as if struggling to get his mind around it. “So we missed the jump by sixteen years?”

  “I don’t know yet. We haven’t gotten even that much out of her. She helped us drive off a dog attack, and then she disappeared for two hours.”

  Ted ran up. “Where’s she going now?”

  “She’s a little freaked out by all the people, I think,” Hannah said.

  “But why?” Ted said.

  “Sixteen years would be a long time,” Bob said. “Maybe she has to have time to get used to us again.”

  “She shouldn’t be alone,” Ted said. “I’ll go after her.”

  Hannah said, “No, please don’t. She’ll be fine.”

  “You’re the one who told us to never go out alone.”

  “It’s safer, for sure. But she has survived sixteen years alone. She must know what she’s doing.”

  Ted threw his spear in frustration, and it buried itself in the ground several feet away.

  Everyone mobbed them, and Hannah had to explain her belief that Laina was unused to people and needed her space.

  Bob said, “Maybe, when she comes back, we shouldn’t all jump up. Or approach her, like I did. Just go about your work and let her come to you.”

  “Is she okay?” Nari said.

  “She seems physically fine,” Hannah reassured her. “And considering how long she was alone, mentally better than I’d be. I’m guessing for now that her problems are entirely social ones. And we can help her through those. If we can avoid crowding her, I think that’d be best.”

  “Did you yell at her?” Dixie said. “For going through the gate without permission, I mean?”

  “No. It’s hard to stay angry when I’m so relieved to see her.”

  “But she’s old!” said Zach.

  “Thanks a bunch,” Hannah said, laughing a little. “She’s my age.”

  “She’s kind of hot,” Ted said.

  When Hannah turned on him, she had no control of her facial expression.

  “What?” he said, defensively. “Well, she is! She’s tall and thin and muscled and even her scars are kind of sexy.”

  Bob said, “She’s not a character out of a movie, Ted. She’s a human being who must have had a really hard time. Think of how lonely she was. Think of how frightened the times she got those scars. She’s our friend, and we’ll treat her as a friend. One who needs our patience and help right now.”

  Ted said, “Doesn’t make her not hot.”

  “Ted,” Bob said, frowning.

  “What? I’m just saying.”

  Hannah gave up, looked at the others, and almost took a step back when she saw Dixie’s wrathful expression. Was she just jealous she wasn’t the hottest female now? Or was there something going on with her and Ted?

  She looked back at Ted and thought if there were, he surely wasn’t acting like it.

  Claire said, “We have fish to fry or stew. And everyone was doing something when we came, right? We can all still talk as we get to work.”

  Laina returned two hours later, in mid-afternoon. Hannah followed the advice she had been giving and didn’t stare or go to great her. Everyone else did pretty well too, saying hi, but not getting up or mobbing her or trying to hug her.

  Hannah was working side by side with Nari, lifting the heavy hides for her when she needed help. Laina squatted next to them. “I’ve made needles. Bird bones,” she said.

  “Wow, that’s cool,” Nari said. “Can you show us how?”

  “Yes.” She looked at Nari. “You’re hurt.”

  “Dogs bit me.”

  “I brought the reeds. For med—medicine,” Laina said, as if having to dig the word out of her memory. She had pockets sewn into her leather clothing, and she reached into one and pulled out a bundle of green strips, tie
d together with a piece of rawhide.

  “Thank you,” Hannah said.

  “Thank you,” Laina repeated, mulling it over. “I say you’re welcome.”

  “That’s right,” Hannah said, noticing Nari’s confused look.

  Laina must have noticed it too. She looked at Nari. “I haven’t been practicing. Your politeness rules.”

  “Oh, right,” Nari said. “Um, you might want to know too, I can see up your dress.”

  “What?” Laina said, obviously mystified.

  “You don’t wear underwear, and when you sit like that....” Nari blushed. “I thought you should know before you squatted down near one of the boys.”

  Laina looked down. “Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me.” She glanced at Hannah, and Hannah thought she detected amusement in her eyes. “Let me show you how to use the reeds.” She took out a water skin.

  “Is that oiled?” Hannah said, pointing to the skin.

  “Yes, fish oil. I boil skins and take it off the top of the pot.”

  “Does it smell like fish?” Nari said.

  “For a short time. The smell goes away. Fades.”

  Nari scooted around to show Laina her back, holding her shirt—Rex’s, actually, temporarily borrowed—up to her breasts to cover them. She wasn’t wearing a bra now, as the straps would have hurt her shoulder.

  Laina said, “Back wounds were hard to fix for me. I learned to keep my back to a rock or tree when I fought. Hannah, can you take off the bandage?”

  As Hannah did so, Nari said, “Were you hurt often? I was so scared, and Hannah and Jodi were right there. I would have been killed if they weren’t.”

  “Not often scared, no,” Laina said. “And only when I get stupid or lazy.” She drizzled water over the reeds, which were still pliable, and rubbed them between the fingers of her left hand. “Can I?” She looked to Hannah for permission.

  “Please,” Hannah said, watching her closely.

  Laina wrapped the reeds around the injury, deftly pinning the loose ends with her ring finger while wrapping the next. “I need hide strips. Or rope. To finish it.”

  Hannah had just cut a dozen spirals of hide. She untwisted one and handed it to Laina, who tied down the reed bandage. “It will heal faster now than with nothing. Take it off after two days and let the air heal it more.” Then she shook her head. “No, you can’t leave off your shirt. Polite rules again.” She looked at Hannah. “Right?”

  “We can devise a sort of tube top for you,” Hannah said to Nari. “Then your shoulder will be exposed to the air.”

  “Is it gross-looking?” Nari said.

  “No,” said Hannah. It was rather ugly, but she’d warn everyone else not to say that to Nari. “And it isn’t nearly healed yet, so I can’t guess what it will look like in a month.”

  Laina stood and looked around herself and then stretched. “It is never gross to survive.”

  Nari put her blouse on again and said, “You must have had adventures. Will you tell us about them?”

  “There is a lot to tell,” Laina said. “It would be right of me to say hello to everyone, yes?” She looked at Hannah.

  “I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

  “I will do that.”

  “Thank you,” Hannah said.

  “Thank you,” Nari echoed. She was struggling to get back into her shirt, so Hannah moved around to help her with it. Laina moved off to talk to Rex and Claire, who were working on the roof.

  “She’s so different,” Nari whispered.

  “She is.”

  “Do you think we’ll ever get the old Laina back?”

  Hannah smiled sadly. “No more than we’ll get the old Nari back. You’ve changed too.”

  “I have?”

  “You’re braver. More physical. A better problem-solver. More independent.”

  “Really? Me?” Nari was wide-eyed.

  “Yes. You’ve grown up. Grown into the woman you’ll be now. Not the one you would have been, had you continued to go to high school and go to parties and watch TV.”

  “Huh,” Nari said. “I’ll have to think about that.”

  “Where were we? With the leather pants.”

  “Failing,” Nari said, gathering her supplies up. “Maybe with Laina’s needles, it’ll go better. For sure the inside seams would be more comfortable if I could sew them.”

  “I wonder what she uses for thread,” Hannah said. She went back to poking holes with a dental pick to Nari’s instructions.

  “She’ll tell us. I’m sure she has a lot to share that will help us survive.”

  “Or make life more comfortable,” Nari said. “I could use some more comfort.”

  “At least we slept on grass pads last night.”

  They went on chatting about nothing of importance, and Hannah wondered if Nari was also thinking the whole time about Laina.

  Laina left before dinner but come back soon with a handful of plants for the cooks. “They are bitter but good,” she said. “I cook them in a little water, not long.”

  She watched the cooks frying fish on hot rocks—Zach and Jodi—and Jodi said, “Tell us if you’ve found a better way to do any of this.”

  Laina nodded but made no suggestions.

  Hannah realized she was staring at Laina and made herself stop. When she looked around the camp, she saw she wasn’t the only one. She walked over and distracted Rex by asking him about the roof. Bob asked Ted to walk with him to the latrine.

  Hannah realized she had a legitimate question for Laina. “Laina, do you know a soap plant?”

  “Yes, I have some.” She reached into another of her pockets and pulled out a handful of weeds, again neatly bundled. Then she dug deeper and came out with a lump of something. She held it out for Hannah.

  Hannah’s jaw dropped. “It’s soap.” It was a lump of soap, solid enough to grasp.

  “Yes.”

  “Wow.” She sniffed it. It smelled of an herb, not unpleasant. Like something in the mint family. “You have so much to teach us.”

  “We will only be here a short time. But yes, there are plants we should gather before we jump.”

  “You’ll jump with us?”

  Laina looked at her like she had asked a bizarre question.

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t know.”

  “How else will you get back to modern times? I have it worked out now.”

  “You can get us home?”

  “Close. I can get you close.”

  Jodi and Zach were staring. “Really?”

  “I’ve done it. Once.”

  Chapter 26

  This bombshell of a revelation hung there mid-air, as Hannah, Jodi, and Zach all stared at her.

  Then Jodi yelled, “You’ve been home?”

  That jerked up the remaining heads around the camp. Rex and Claire hurried over. Nari and Dixie must be out at the latrine, or they’d have come running too.

  They were all shouting questions at Laina, who backed away.

  Hannah said, “Everyone, please!” She couldn’t understand why no one appreciated Laina’s skittishness around people.

  Laina looked at her, an animal look of fear in her eyes.

  “People, she’ll tell us. If you just quiet down long enough for her to speak.”

  It took a few minutes, but they settled down in time to prevent Laina’s running off again.

  Hannah gestured for Laina to go on. “I have not been back to our time. But once, I found Indians. I stayed with them for a week. Then they seemed to get suspicious of me, so I left. Then I jumped again a week later. Back.”

  “Wow,” Zach said. “You didn’t think about staying there?”

  “Why?” Laina said.

  “I might have, if I had found people,” he said, glancing at Jodi.

  “I was teaching myself.”

  Hannah’s mind was whirling, but she settled it down enough to let that register. “Laina, how many times did you jump?”

  “One hundred seventy-six. I had
to skip six.”

  Hannah sat down without looking where she was sitting. “My God,” she whispered.

  Rex was the first to speak. He said, “At least we know jumping a lot doesn’t hurt you.”

  “You’re lucky you never materialized inside rock,” Claire said.

  Laina said, “I thought of that.”

  “And you jumped anyway?” said Zach.

  “Yes. I told you, I had to learn.”

  “Why?”

  “We needed to know. You needed to know.”

  Hannah was reeling with the realization that Laina, the girl, had sacrificed so much for their benefit. She felt tears come to her eyes and knew she was grieving. Laina had given up her youth, the prime years of her life, a normal life, to run these experiments.

  “That’s dedicated science,” Rex said, admiringly.

  “And you know how to time it exactly now?” Jodi said. “You can get us home?”

  “Not exact. Hannah has her watch. That will help me jump closer.”

  Hannah took it off her wrist and handed it to Laina. “It’s yours. A gift. Keep it.”

  Claire said, “The numbers don’t work out. You’re sixteen years older, right? So the times you jumped plus the times you skipped only add up to fifteen years.”

  “I waited here.”

  “For us?”

  She nodded again, more smoothly this time, as if the gesture were coming back to her. “We need to jump together.”

  “Can you get us home in one jump?” Claire said.

  “No. Two. Or four. Or six.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Zach.

  “Two to go forward. If we are far off our goal, one back, one forward again. That makes four. Or again, for six.”

  “You’ve done that?” Zach asked.

  “I have. My closest trip, I made it back to only a few years after you left the last place. The cabin was still there by the lake. No roof, but the bricks were still there. I never did arrive exactly right.”

  “We were there two months.”

  “I am not that good. Even hitting within a few years was luck.”

  “So you might get us back to the year 2000, or something like that.”