by Chris Hechtl
They insisted the others were wasting their time; that help was just over the next rise. “They are on their way; I know they are!” a woman said vehemently waving her hands.
“I hope so, Ma'am, but well,” the fisherman pointed to the sky and then explained patiently about the additional moons. He got a hysterical No for his trouble. They were too traumatized to cope at the moment, too much too fast.
A few of those who weren't up to the mental challenge went catatonic or fell into a fetal ball of hysterical weeping and rocking in the sand. A girl shook, trembling like a leaf, screaming that it wasn't real; it was all one big nightmare. Another girl rubbed her back, trying to sooth her. Kids wailed, crying.
“I wish it was true,” the fisherman said. “Can it, kid; you might get some attention we don't want.” He looked around, noticing jungle was ominously quiet. “I don't like that; it's too quiet,” he said. That got others to look up in concern.
A detail of people who had pets dug into the cargo compartment. Roy was a bit disgusted. They couldn't help their fellow man, but they had to get their pooch out of the wreck, if the dogs survived. He was a bit surprised that several dogs and two cats had survived. He shook his head. “Will wonders never cease,” he muttered. After a moment he went back to work.
They cleared the cabin and cockpit, then went about digging through the gear and tossing it out. It was a lot of work, but they had to be sure. There was no way he was going to leave anyone to bleed to death.
They found a girl locked in the economy bathroom. She was pretty banged up, and clearly terrified, but they patched her up long enough to get her out of the aircraft. The paramedic followed her to help with the triage.
Roy took a breath of fresh air, noting it was nearly nightfall. “We're going to need lights,” he said.
“Got one,” the skipper said, showing him a blue LED light on his key chain. “This thing is great.”
“Let's see what else we can find. We'll need to get the food and water out. Any weapons too,” the engineering professor said.
“Good idea, professor,” the bigger man said heartily, clapping him on the shoulder. Roy nodded.
As night fell they set up a makeshift camp near the crash in a grotto encircled by cliffs on nearly three sides. A narrow wooded canyon led into the interior beyond. A mix of tropical and other plants were scattered about above the high tide mark.
Roy quietly helped people; one of the first things he did after he got out of the aircraft was assess the situation and then start a fire with a lighter he had found. Weary, and a bit disgusted about how everyone was doing practically nothing, he made a mental list of what needed to be done, then ruthlessly pared it down to the essentials. He went to the wood line and dragged out limbs and brush. “Should you be doing that?” a girl asked tentatively.
“Someone's got to do it,” he said.
“Yeah, but if this was my property…” she waved a hand. “I'd be pissed.”
He snorted and pointed to the plane crash. She looked at the aircraft then back to him. He pointed to the night sky. It was turning dark, but they could see the rising moons. “I think other things are on my mind,” he said simply.
“Oh,” she said. The wind picked up. She shivered and clutched at the blanket. “You know, let me help you,” she said.
He nodded. With her and a few other people, they created a lean-to shelter, and then they showed others how to do it. It was simple; set up a horizontal pole between supports, then lean branches or blankets over one side. If that side faced the prevailing wind, it worked well. The wounded were helped to the shelters.
The medics had triaged the injured. Roy noted doc, who fell into the arms of the Paramedic once the situation was stabilized. She'd lost ten of her patients due to their extensive injuries and cried bitterly because of it.
Roy heard the paramedic murmur tenderly to her, rubbing her back gently as he murmured it was okay. “Some honeymoon, huh?” he asked. She sniffled and nodded. She gathered herself and then broke the embrace with a tender smile, then put her hair up in a ponytail and got back to work. He watched her go and then followed.
Roy nodded. If they could do that, keep going on, then he would too. He'd do his best for them. He just wasn't sure where to start. Shelter, of course, there was a report of a fresh water spring nearby, so…
Once the shelter situation was under control, Roy turned his attention to gather fallen fruit, brush and firewood. But after a while his tired body screamed for a rest. He sat and ate half a snickers bar; then gulped down a carefully measured half cup of water.
When he felt better, Roy and a few like-minded others took stock of their weapons by the light of the fire. There were only a couple pocket knives; most had been in the luggage in the baggage compartment. Only a couple guns, all pistols including a pair of flare guns. They supplemented the meager weapons cache the best they could. Roy picked through the pile of sticks to find the straightest of them. Those that were not brittle he ground an end on a nearby stone to sharpen it. A pair of curious boys saw what he was doing and imitated him. They created spears and then handed them out to the grateful corporal and other military personnel.
“I think that's all we're going to get done tonight. Everyone's about done in. We'll set up some volunteers to keep watch and tend to the fires. We need to keep those going,” Corporal Max Klinger said.
“Buddy system. Don't go out alone,” a woman warned. She looked warily at the brush around them. “I so wish I had my full kit,” she said.
“Well, you don't so we'll make do with what we've got,” Klinger said, hefting the dead marshall's revolver. “Six shots and one reload,” he said with a grimace.
“It'll have to do. Like the lighters we'll have to conserve everything. Ration,” Roy urged. The others looked at him and then nodded grimly.
~~~~~O~~~~~
The next morning Roy and Captain Grumby met up. The captain was a bit lethargic; just about everyone was after such a traumatizing landing. “I think we shouldn't mention what we know about the aliens,” Roy murmured to him.
“Why?”
“Well, you and I were selected right?” the skipper nodded. “And we don't know who else…but judging from the bewildered reaction, not everyone was. And if we tell them, then they'll think we're the reason they are here, and their loved ones died.”
“Um…”
“A lynch mob is the last thing either of us need,” Roy said firmly. The captain gaped at him, then gulped. He nodded, now sober, eyes wide.
“Well, they'd have a hell of a time hefting me up to any tree,” the skipper said. “But I get your point.”
“Right,” Roy said, nodding. “But, we know we're on an alien world. So, we need to proceed cautiously. First thing is…” he pointed to a group digging gear out of the plane. One was gingerly getting into a wet suit.
“Um...”
“We better stop them. There is no telling what's below the surface of that water,” Roy said grimly. The skipper nodded. Together they stopped a group who had recovered their diving gear from the cargo compartment. Their intent was to go spear fishing. “Hang on a sec,” the skipper said, holding up a restraining hand. “Remember folks, we're on an alien world here. I think it's best to look before you leap,” he said.
The captain tossed a bunch of fruit rinds and other scraps into the water. A couple volunteers had tried them, but they knew better than to go near the alien fruit and foods.
They had plenty of material and a dead cat. It took the plop of the dead cat to get the gull's attention. A gliding four winged gull creature spotted the free meal and landed in the floating pile. It pecked at the offering as if it was its due. After a minute though, it was gulped up by a giant sea monster in a massive splash. Shaken, the divers put away their gear. Those near the high tide mark moved further up the beach into the dubious safety of the jungle and rocks.
They set up a system of transporting local fresh spring water to the fires to boil for drinking wate
r. Most of the bottles and containers were appropriated for the task. Water was also needed for hygiene and cleaning the food implements. They had forks and other tools, both plastic and metal. The metal ones were highly prized.
“Don't drink any water unless it's boiled,” Wilson warned everyone. “I'm serious.”
“What about filtering it through white pine? I heard you can do that. The wood will act as a filter picking out the bacteria,” Allen a college teen asked.
“I don't know how well it will work,” Wilson admitted. “And I'm not going to chance someone's life on a maybe. We know boiling works. We'll stick to what we know for now.” He patted the kid on the shoulder. “Though, if we can filter it through some charcoal, it will get some of the nasty flavors out,” he admitted. The teen nodded and went back to work.
Clothes were sorted out. The owners that had survived claimed their baggage. Unclaimed baggage was picked through for supplies. There were some, like energy bars, candy or minor things. Most of the clothes were useless, swimming gear or outfits for partying, not suited for survival. Still, everything was kept.
Corporal Klinger and others turned their eyes on the nearby woods. All of the fruit trees had been staked out, but they were quickly running through the supplies from the closest trees. They were having to go further and further afield to find anything. That took time and means to bring what they had back to camp. It did have other benefits though; their botanist found a nearby aloe plant for relief of sunburn. She also found a couple other plants that she said might help with fever.
~~~~~O~~~~~
They had their first encounter with feathered raptors just before lunch. The Raptors were out scavenging, working their way along the coastline looking for washed-up carcasses. They were all over the aircraft once they encountered it.
At first the people in the camp ignored them, thinking they were birds. Plenty of odd looking birds had been about; some were in the trees or in the rocks around the area. Each was roughly the size of a turkey with stiff feathered tails and feathered arms, but fast. They looked and acted like birds, darting about, cocking their heads, and making bird sounds. It wasn't until several people noted they were going into the wreck that they got distressed. They realized the scavengers were attacking the bodies inside.
Three men and two women charged the door, waving blankets. “Shoo!” one woman screamed. “Can we get some help here?” she demanded. They could hear scrambling inside the aircraft.
“What are you doing! Don't trap them!” A guy called out in warning.
“A cornered animal…” Klinger said as he limped as fast as he could across the sands. He was on the other side of the camp though; he could see them but was helpless to do anything. The brown bird-like things cocked their heads at the interlopers this way and that then one cawed to the others. After a moment they seemed to gather themselves and spring.
Two fell on one of the women, who shrieked as she fell backwards. Claws and teeth tore into her. She thrashed, trying to get them off.
With the woman down, all thoughts of getting the creatures out of the aircraft were forgotten. The other woman ran back to the safety of the others in the camp in terror while the three men tried to save the woman.
One of the creatures saw the fleeing woman and gave chase. It was fast, cheetah speed. She wailed as it leapt and knocked her to the ground. It savaged her as she screamed and thrashed.
The men had taken their eyes off the plane. That was a mistake. Bloody heads popped out of the dark interior and cold killer eyes locked on to them. The animals used the distraction to the foremost, hitting all three men as they tried to kick the other Raptors away from the first fallen woman.
All three men went down, one staggered, trying to run. One of the animals lunged and bit his throat. He went down, but wrung its neck as it ripped his throat out.
Klinger fumbled with the weapon and then fired a shot into the air. The loud bark made the animals look up. All now had bloody maws. Two hissed in his direction. He leveled the pistol and then fired again. The bark of the weapon had them scrambling and hopping away. They pranced about, uncertain. A third shot over their heads sent them into a full retreat.
“Oh my god,” a woman whispered in the ensuing silence, breaking the taboo. Doc and the medics rushed in to do what they could. They shook their heads after a moment, wiping their eyes. The medic laid a bloody shirt over the girls’ savaged faces.
“Oh my freaking god,” someone said. A few wept, others grimly picked up sticks for clubs and spears.
“We'll have to bury them. Them and the others,” Klinger said grimly. He nodded to Roy as the engineering professor came thundering up. He'd been off gathering materials with other volunteers. “Glad you made it. Some of us didn't,” Klinger said, nodding over his shoulder to the dead.
“Damn,” the skipper said. He took his hat off and held it to his chest. “Poor sods,” he said.
“We saw it from a distance. Were those Raptors?” Roy asked.
“Damn wasn't the Colonel's chickens,” Klinger snarled, shaking his head in anger. “What the hell…what next?” he demanded.
“I thought they didn't have feathers?” A boy said.
“You've watched Jurassic Park a few too many times, haven't you?” Another kid said. “They've got feathers. Those were Velociraptors or something close to it.”
“I thought they'd be bigger?”
“Those are Utah raptors. And if these pissed your pants…” He shook his head. “We're in trouble.”
“But but but…” eyes wide. He looked around, now scared.
“Don't think of them as turkeys. Think terror birds with teeth,” the kid said.
“Will you shut up!” A girl hissed, turning to them. She turned back to one of the nurses, Jane Dask and her twin girls. They were huddling over a body sobbing.
“Oh,” one of the boys said softly. He dropped his head. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“We need to get the dead far away, or they'll attract more scavengers. That means a burial detail. A watch. Defenses, more fires,” Roy said, nodding to the skipper. Klinger nodded as well. “Lend me a hand, Captain? That narrow trench defile we found to the west should work. We'll do our best to cover them.”
“Agreed,” the skipper said. “We'll need something to lug them with.”
“Blankets. Drag them or use a sling,” the corporal said. “Don't bother with the bloody clothes or rags. It'll draw the bastards back.”
“I'm all for revenge, but only on our terms,” a man said grimly. He was pale as a ghost. He clutched at a spear. “Thanks for this,” he hefted it. “Not that it did them or us any good,” he said.
“Take what we can get,” the professor said. “You'll keep watch?” The guy nodded. “Thanks,” Roy said.
“We'll need more than me. Are we going to burn them?” Allen asked. Roy shook his head. He made a face. “I hate letting them…you know, get eaten…”
“It's the circle of life. Get over it. Besides, you really want to stick around to cut firewood to build a pyre?” Klinger asked. Allen shook his head no, leaning heavily on his spear. Klinger snorted. “Thought not.”
“Terror birds, huh?”
“Yeah,” Roy said. “This is bad,” he said. “We can't do this on our own. There are what, nearly sixty bodies on the plane?”
“What's left of them,” the skipper said. “I've got a strong stomach but…”
“We'll do what we can as quick as we can. Those with strong stomachs like our resident medics can help there,” Roy suggested. “But we need the help,” he said, turning to the corporal.
“We'll get some help,” Klinger said. “Burial detail and guards, ho!” he said, waving a hand. Some of the men looked up. Others hunched away. “Hey, dead bodies brought them here; you want them to come back?” Klinger demanded, rounding on them.
That got the reluctant people to move. Once two came forward, others did as well. Roy recognized one of the guys had a military haircut. His name wa
s Harris; the young woman was Ashley Simmons. Both had spears and looked like they knew which end was the sharp end. Good, he thought.
Klinger and the doc examined the dead raptor carefully. They admired the speckled brown and black plumage. “It's pretty. Good camouflage in the brush,” Klinger said.
“Yeah, pretty scary,” doc said. “You wouldn't think something like that could do this,” she said, indicating the dead. “And so fast!” she shivered.
“Hey, it had friends,” a big guy said, looking at the thing as dispassionately as he could. He poked the thing, lifting up the lip to expose the long dagger teeth. “And besides, have you seen the teeth and claws on this sucker?” he said, exposing a massive toe claw.
“Yeah, it's a biggun,” Klinger said as the burial detail went to work. “I think we should get a little revenge. Anyone know how to pluck an oversized chicken?” he asked. The guy snorted. Doc gagged, moving away.
Roy heard that and nodded, but he was too busy climbing into the wreckage to care. Besides, with the smell and the horrible task food was the last thing on his mind. Shawn Roberts brought out a Bible and read last rights. He was a bit put out when Roy and the others moved too quickly for him. He followed, surprising them.
“Come on man, we're burning daylight. I for one don't want to encounter those…those things in the dark, do you? Do your mass or whatever over the grave when we're done,” the guard said.
“If you aren't going to help, get the hell out of the way!” the skipper snarled, brushing Shawn aside.
Due to being on an aircraft there were little or no weapons beyond the handmade ones. Klinger checked the pistol and then shook his head ruefully. They needed something; hell if he wanted to deal with those bastards hand to hand. He heard a rustle and looked up. Something moved near the camp. People shied away, some wailing in fresh terror.