Nineveh's Child

by Gerhard Gehrke

  They approached her fire and her pool and looked around. They spoke in low tones to one another, apparently wary of the fire. They looked nervous, and obviously so. This was someone else’s spot, someone else’s food, and that person had to be close by and watching them.

  The dog sniffed about, but its attention was mostly on the cooking meat. The animal must have been trained, as it didn’t scarf down everything in sight but instead turned to its masters. The couple appeared to have decided what to do: the man helped the woman sit down next to the fire. He shielded his eyes from the sun and surveyed the pool, the rocks, and the wall of trees, at one point looking straight at Dinah. He gave no indication that he saw her.

  Dinah guessed they were hungry too. They had a free meal before them and plenty of water and a place to rest. But they couldn’t yet know that there was only one teenage girl watching them. Maybe there was an entire gang of people hiding behind the trees and boulders. The fire and the food could be a trap. If I were a cannibal, that’s what I’d do. But if the strangers were observant, they would notice only one set of tracks, plus the bird’s.

  After a few minutes, it started to look like they would not be moving on. The man crouched by the fire and put his hands to it. He even moved the meat back from the flames before returning his attention to the trees. While the man scanned his surroundings, the woman stared at Dinah’s food with a burning intensity.

  The dog started to make a wet noise. It had found the diseased squirrel carcass Dinah had set aside and was proceeding to devour it.

  The woman said something to the man. She tugged at the hot cooked rabbit, but had no utensils. Dinah clenched her jaw in anger. But what could she do? The strangers were both bigger than her. All she had was a rabbit stick and a tiny knife. They didn’t have any obvious weapons either, but they had a dog.

  Dinah dug her fingernails into the bark in frustration.

  The man gestured for the woman to wait. He went down to the pool and spent some time examining the mud before taking a drink. The woman got up and with the man’s help climbed down to the water’s edge. Her limp was worse than before. The man had her sit on a rock and helped her pull off her boots and roll up the cuffs of her pants. He spent some time washing one of her feet and one leg. She was in obvious pain. They spoke some more.

  Then the man got up and shouted, “Hello? We know you’re here somewhere. We didn’t want to steal your food.”

  Yeah, right.

  “Can we talk?” he asked. “I know you’re alone here. We can trade. We have supplies. We want to share your fire.”

  He waited. The woman said something, and he waved her off. Dinah heard her gasp in pain as she lowered her leg into the water.

  Dinah’s plan was to stay in the tree and not make a sound, but she must have shifted or exhaled too loudly. The dog’s ears perked up and it stared straight up at her. It chuffed, growled, and let out a single bark.

  “Won’t you come down?” the man asked.

  If she dropped from the tree and ran, she would only have the dog to contend with. She’d never had much experience with dogs, but the ones in the local villages were all mean. Dinah didn’t like them much. They moved too quickly, they stared you down, and they had teeth.

  She climbed down the tree. The dog didn’t charge, but held its ground near her fire. The man didn’t pull a weapon and was obviously keeping his hands where she could see them. She waited for a moment, poised to make a break up the hill. Then the smell of the cooked meat hit her like a wave.

  “What do you have for trade?” Dinah asked.

  “Hello!” he said brightly with a wave. He had a brown, gray, and black mess of a beard and wild hair. Twigs, stickers, and thorns stuck in his clothes and hair, as if he had made his way straight through a bramble of dead berry bushes. “I’m Mike. This is Michelle.”

  Michelle continued to sit on the rock by the pool. She eyed Dinah suspiciously, a contrast to Mike’s overly friendly demeanor. The dog just stared, the picture of perfect obedience. It appeared to be just waiting for the command to attack.

  “You said you have something to trade,” Dinah said.

  “We do.” He pulled his pack between his legs and opened it up.

  Dinah tried not to get her hopes up, but couldn’t help it when Mike began emptying the pack. He could have had cake or cookies or bread or some dried fruit. But her heart sank as she saw the poor collection of rusted tools, a few torn skins, metal nails, a short piece of rope, and a few photos or postcards. She didn’t need a closer look to recognize crap when she saw it.

  “You’ve caught quite a bit of game,” he said. “This must be a good hunting spot. And the spring here is amazing.”

  “I know.”

  Dinah took a few steps toward the boulder’s edge so she could make a show of examining his proffered junk. No way was she trading her meat for any of that. Then she saw what was strapped to Michelle’s pack. It was a small iron pan.

  The dog growled when she slid down the boulder and landed in the dirt near Mike. Mike made a kissing sound with his lips and snapped his fingers. The dog quieted.

  “He’s okay,” Mike said. “This is Roger. Roger, sit.”

  Roger the dog sat on the rocks above them. He panted and appeared to be smiling, his tongue hanging stupidly from the side of his mouth. Dinah couldn’t help but notice that while Roger was lean, he had some meat on him. Either the dog could hunt or Mike and Michelle fed the animal. But both humans were in bad shape, with sunken cheeks. Their exposed skin was covered with dirty cuts and scrapes.

  Dinah glanced down at Mike’s stuff. Then she pointed at the pan. “I’ll take that. You can have two of the squirrels.”

  Mike considered for a moment. “Okay, done. But we’d also like to stay here for a bit and rest up.”

  Dinah went to Michelle’s pack and unstrapped the pan. It was well seasoned and hardly used. No rust. It felt a bit heavy, but it would let her cook more easily on a fire. She could put foraged veggies and herbs in with her meat without losing any drippings, or she could add water and make a stew.

  “Mike, is this a good idea?” Michelle asked.

  Mike ignored her and offered Dinah a hand. “What’s your name?”

  “Dinah.”

  ***

  Mike appeared content with his squirrel, but Michelle still looked hungry, watching as Dinah collected the roasted chipmunk and rabbit from the cook stone. Both visitors sat on a log Mike had dragged next to the fire. Michelle had eaten her own squirrel quickly, although Dinah suspected there might still be edible bits and marrow if the woman worked at it harder. The dog had snapped up the leftovers. Dinah put her own meat in the pan and used it like a plate as she started in on the rabbit.

  Mike was sucking on the bones when he asked, “So there’s game here?”

  “This is the best catch I’ve had in weeks.”

  “Probably because there’s water. Using snares?”

  “That, or I catch them by hand.”

  “Not bad for a girl your age.”

  She felt her cheeks flush. Here he was eating her meat and tromping through the woods like he was out on a Sunday stroll. His dog was loud, his woman friend hurt, and he was going to condescend to her?

  “How long have you two been on the run?” Dinah asked.

  “They came to our village a month ago. I knew they were close. We had survivors come through the week before letting us know they were coming. I tried to get some families organized, even had supplies laid out and hidden. We had a good camp well away from the village, thirteen of us. We stayed there for a week, but they found us. Maybe we hadn’t gone far enough. Maybe we had too many people. Michelle and I escaped with very little of our belongings.”

  “We have nothing,” Michelle said.

  “We’re alive. But we can’t stay up here forever. We’ll have to go back down and see what’s left. We need to see if anyone’s still alive. What about you? Where’s your family?”

  Dinah just looked at hi
m for a moment before deciding not to answer. Roger broke the silence when he started scarfing down the bones from Mike’s squirrel.

  Dinah finished eating. She collected the leftover bones from her meal, the dog watching her closely. A few bits of gristle and cartilage hung off the chipmunk’s skeleton. This would be for the evening’s snares.

  “I’m going to set my traps and collect more wood. Keep your dog here so his scent doesn’t spoil anything.”

  Mike gave a nod. Like a good guest, he kept the damned dog away from her.

  ***

  Dinah placed snares in the same general locale, but not in the exact same places. No doubt her previous night’s catches had vacated both bladders and bowels, and the scent might be off-putting.

  Then she spent a couple of hours gathering anything edible. This gave her time to think.

  At first, the thought of people staying with her had annoyed her. But upon consideration, maybe the dog or Mike would help keep the giant bird at bay. She might not have to sleep in a tree. Better sleep meant better hunting, and she couldn’t stay here in her forest paradise forever. She needed to know what was going on down in the valley.

  Into her pouch went a few more roots, some nuts, edible grass, and two handfuls of termite grubs taken from a rotten log. The thought of eating a second meal made her feel greedy. Maybe the visitors would be gone, and she would get this feast all to herself.

  No such luck.

  Dusk was setting in by the time she got back. Mike was swimming in the water, doing circles on his back with everything but his face submerged. Roger the dog stood alert on one of the nearby rocks. He barked at his master. The sound was shockingly loud and carried like a village bell, yet neither of her guests shut the beast up. Meanwhile, Michelle poked at the fire, but not in a productive way. It smoked and smoldered and needed air and fuel. She was just stirring at the ashes.

  “I’m back.”

  Dinah squatted next to Michelle and started breaking branches and stacking them over the embers. Mike had collected some wood while she was gone, but it wouldn’t be enough. She would go out for more later. First she wanted a hot pan.

  “You don’t happen to have any butter?” Dinah asked.

  Michelle just scowled at her.

  Dinah pushed some rocks near the flame so the pan would rest level between them. Michelle shifted uncomfortably as Dinah worked around the fire. She struggled to keep her hurt leg straight. A piece of filthy cloth was wrapped tight around it.

  “If that’s wet, you might want to wash the bandage and let your wound breathe,” Dinah said. “May I?”

  Michelle nodded. Dinah pulled the cloth away from the wound. A four-inch gouge ran up the back of her calf. There were bruises up the leg. She took a sniff. It smelled clean. She tossed the dirty bandage aside.

  “Tomorrow when there’s better light I’ll try to find some moss to put on that.”

  Mike emerged from the water wearing just his underpants. He was shivering but smiling nonetheless. He found the bloody bandage and gave it a wash. Then he gathered his clothes and squatted next to Michelle and rubbed her back.

  “Thank you, Dinah,” he said. “The fire feels good. This spring is amazing.”

  Dinah rolled the grubs out into the hot pan. They sizzled and twisted. She put in the rest of what she had foraged and a nutty, earthen smell filled the air. She rolled down her sleeve and used it to grab the pan’s handle, then gave it all a shake. After a couple of minutes, she took the pan off the flame.

  “It’s not much, but it’s something.” she said.

  “I’m not sure we have anything to trade that you’d want or that we’d part with,” Mike said.

  “This is for shares.”

  Michelle’s face said it all. She didn’t do bugs. Mike popped a couple of grubs in his mouth and happily crunched away.

  “Not too far off from roasted grains,” he said to her. “Try some.”

  Michelle shook her head. Dinah wasn’t going to wait for her to warm to the idea of eating what she had made. She popped cooked grubs into her mouth, pausing only to remove the occasional bit of grit from her teeth. Dinah understood that Michelle hadn’t been out in the wilderness long enough to realize that survival meant squeamishness had to go by the wayside. Michelle probably also never had an Uma in her life teaching her all the things nature gives you for free if you know where to look.

  “How’d you find this place?” Mike asked.

  “Like you did. I went upstream.”

  “Any signs of others?”

  “Just you.”

  They watched the fire dwindle as darkness fell upon them. Mike used up what was left of the wood. It burned quickly, and the fire wouldn’t last much longer. Dinah made a show of yawning and stretching.

  “I’ll be sleeping on the ground a little further up. Enjoy the fire.”

  She put her blanket down where she could keep an eye on them. The ground was harder here than by the fire, but it only took her a moment to get comfortable. For a few minutes, she watched the silhouettes of her visitors huddle together in the light of the embers. Then she slept like a baby.

  ***

  Roger the dog woke her. He was barking, and now Mike was yelling at him to shut up.

  The sun was an hour from rising. The sky had done its turn and many of the stars were gone. Mike stood by the remains of the fire and called for Roger. Roger was near some trees, letting out a series of short yips. He bounced around but appeared confused as to what to do next.

  “Roger!” Mike yelled. Finally the dog relented and returned to the dead fire.

  “Can you see anything?” Michelle asked.

  “No. It’s probably nothing. Just an animal.”

  “Best to keep him with you,” Dinah said.

  She was up on her haunches listening. Besides the soft gurgle of the moving water below, she heard nothing. If the bird was out there, she hoped it would go for the visitors first. Soon enough the dog settled down. Its owners spoke in low tones, then climbed down the rocks to the pool.

  A moment later, Dinah heard Michelle start screaming, a noise that started small but quickly escalated to a full-blown panicked shriek. Dinah hurried to the edge of the boulders. Michelle was dancing about, swatting at her arms and neck and face. Mike tried to help, but Michelle smacked him in her spastic motions. Soon he too was slapping at himself.

  They both jumped into the water fully clothed. They rubbed water on their faces and necks and limbs with a special fury. Dinah stayed high on the rocks and watched them. Their dog barked a few times, confused again. It sat, stood, sat again, and whimpered. Soon the frenzied bath was over and Mike and Michelle stood on the rocks, trembling and checking themselves over.

  Dinah knew that bugs liked their water, too. She didn’t know what Mike and Michelle had on them, but apparently whatever they were came out just before dawn.

  “I’ll get more wood and get the fire going,” Dinah announced. She suppressed a chuckle as she heard them both grumble.

  ***

  With the fire up and the sky brightening, Dinah could see both of them were covered with little red bites. Mike had to fight Michelle to keep her from scratching as he put mud on her bites. Both were shivering, and after carefully checking the ground they huddled close to the fire.

  Through clattering teeth, Mike said, “I think we’ll make a renewed effort to eat bugs today. There’s more than enough to go around.”

  Dinah nodded and smiled. Michelle just hugged herself, both hands finding bites on her sides and back to scratch.

  “Did you know those bugs were down there?” she asked with a note of accusation.

  “That never happened to me before,” Dinah said. “When the light’s better I’ll take a look.”

  “Are you staying here tonight?” Mike asked.

  “I’m going to check my traps first and decide. I need to go down into the valley soon.”

  “Would you let us go with you?”

  It felt weird having
a grown-up ask her for anything. Judging by their overall ability to withstand life in the forest, the two needed help. But she couldn’t feed all of them. And if they were with her, it would only slow her down. Returning to her brother was her goal. These two would have to survive on their own.

  “You might do okay here. You’ll just need to be careful. Besides the bugs, there are some bigger predators out there.”

  “Like mountain lions? We saw one several weeks ago down at my farm.”

  “Those, and other things too. But otherwise you might be safe, since I haven’t seen any other people up this far.”

  Mike looked at Michelle for an opinion. She just looked miserable as she stared into the fire. The flickering flame brought out the hollowness of her cheeks and the dark lines under her eyes.

  “You have the rocks to sleep on up there,” Dinah said. “There’s food if you know where to look. Not a lot, but some. And you have Roger.”

  Roger just sat nearby, intent again on the trees and whatever lurked beyond them.

  “He’s not a very good hunter,” Mike said. “More of a watchdog.”

  Dinah gave Mike a look. She managed to arch an eyebrow.

  “Oh,” he said. “It hasn’t come to that yet.”

  7. Before: The Farm

  By late afternoon, she had the ladies back in their pen. Uma was in the shadows of the back porch, cooking the morning’s milk down into cheese. Karl sat nearby, a book and pencil in his hand. They spoke to one another in hushed tones. Neither smiled. For Uma, that was common enough, but for Karl it was rare.

  Dinah went to the water bucket and filled a cup for a drink. When she saw the bucket was almost empty, she dumped half the cup back. The water tasted stale.