by Chris Hechtl
“I mean it,” she growled. He nodded again.
He looked around and noted the injured. “What do you need here, Doc? Maybe I can help,” he said.
She sighed. “What do I need? A hospital. Fully stocked,” she said. “What don't I need,” she said ruefully.
“Don't focus on the big; break it down Doc,” he cautioned.
“You and Klinger. You two are a pair,” she said, shaking her head. She gave him a list of the most basic things.
Roy frowned. “What about sulfur, more cattails for bandages and other things?” he asked. She nodded.
“It'll take me out of camp, but I can go to the marshes and harvest what we can get.”
“That's true,” Doc said. “Nothing wrong with your feet.”
“Thanks, Doc,” he said. He took a pair of girls armed with spears, backpack luggage and sacks to the marsh. It took less than an hour to get there. Chloe and Hetty were the two girls, teens he assumed. Possibly college students, the line blurred around that age a bit. Chloe had orange hair, but it was already starting to turn brown at her roots. She was the tall one. Hetty was a short little shit, small but feisty with her brunette pony tail.
Both were nice girls, but not really interested in him. He guessed they were distracted by being outside of camp. Both had been eager for the adventure, most likely to get out of some disagreeable chore, but now.…The girls were wary of predators, but they didn't see anything. The frequent traffic by humans was apparently spooking the local wildlife out of the area.
Once they got there, he had them gather the cattails and dig into the ground for yellow sulfur pockets.
Roy noted a shape in the water, long. At first he thought it was a sunken log, but it was steadily moving closer to them. “Watch it, everyone back,” he warned.
The two girls looked up in alarm. His attention on the water alerted them to the danger. They pulled back as the thing submerged. Roy wasn't fooled though. He remembered animal documentaries, they could stay under water for hours. He picked up a big rock and tossed it into the water. The girls did the same. The fourth rock gave a mighty plop.
The animal lunged out of the water, a psuedocroc, huge, over fifteen feet long. They ducked behind a handy pair of trees. It hissed at them as they moved back. It clacked its jaws and glared at them with slitted eyes for a moment before it retreated back into the water.
“That was close,” one of the girls said. She was shaking.
“Too close,” the other girl said.
“Okay, so, we're done here for now. Time for the better part of valor and all that,” Roy said.
“What's that supposed to mean?” the first girl demanded.
“We retreat,” he said with a slight smile. “We get away with what we've got and count our blessings,” he said.
“Good idea,” the first girl said, shaking. He snorted.
He had the shaken girls leave their spoils by the tree they had hid behind and then took them to the rookery. There they raided more of the avians. The four winged things squawked in protest, but he ignored it. He spotted a bank of clay, and took a sample. It was dirty, but they could filter it or something later. He also took a sample of bird guano for later.
Ladened down, they returned to their gear, repacked it all and then headed out. The girls were nervous now. Their eyes darted around to every shadow warily.
“It's okay, listen to the jungle. Look for tracks,” he quietly assured them. He explained about zones of security. One watched the left flank, the other the right and so on. It seemed to work.
Half way back to camp they heard noises in the bush. The girls whimpered in fright and screamed when a pseudo warthog and family came barreling out of the bushes. Roy, however, had heard the grunts and made an assumption. He was ready. He speared the sow in the side, making her squeal. The girls dropped their loads in fright, pinning a couple of the piglets who squealed in fright as well. The sow, injured, frightened, and now enraged by the squeals of her piglets thrashed about, shattering his spear. Roy managed to use the distraction to grab her hock and pull her up and off balance. She twisted, trying to gore him with her tusks but he wrestled her over onto her wounded side. He pulled out his hatchet and struck her in the head with the hilt, momentarily stunning her. He stabbed her with the crude implement in the throat, lifting up and then slitting her throat, killing her. Blood gushed. The smell was a bit much, and further terrified the piglets. Those that were free ran into the bush.
“Just like that show, the hogger one,” he huffed and panted. He looked around, assessing the situation. “I think I'd rather watch it than do it though,” he said ruefully, wiping his forehead with his wrist.
Klinger arrived with a hunting party further frightening the girls and trapped piglets. The few not stuck ran further into the brush. Klinger took in the scene in an instant and nodded. He motioned for the others to get to work.
“Round up. Catch or kill,” he ordered. The others nodded and swung into action. One of the piglets tried to free itself but Roy blocked Klinger from killing it. “Catch remember?” he said as he tied its thrashing legs with twine. One of the other hunters had captured one of the others to do the same. Klinger approved. “It's easier to raise them then hunt,” Roy panted.
A hunter grunted. “Not as much fun though.”
“You say that now. But mama…” Roy shook his head, nodding his chin to the dead sow. The hunters nodded grimly.
“You have all the…luck I suppose,” Klinger said. “I thought you were supposed to take it easy?” he asked. Roy shrugged and spread his gore covered hands. “Right,” the corporal mock growled. “She's going to kick our ass you know that right?”
“Yeah,” Roy agreed with a sigh. “And I'm too damn tired to put up much of a fight,” he said. Klinger snorted.
The other hunters set onto the dead sow, gutting her and rigging her with branches to bring the carcass back to camp. When they were ready they hefted the still dripping porcine and set off.
Roy fell in line, smiling to the two girls. One held a hogtied piglet on a stick at arm's length. “Catch that?” He asked. She nodded. “Good for you!” He said in approval. She smiled tentatively.
He went back to checking the group. He noted that the girls were still looking in the zones and smiled. Klinger had trained his team well; they had flankers out, a point and rear guard as well. They had some food, mostly fruits and plants, but a few hare -ike critters. Some frogs too, and some other things. Good, he thought with a small nod of approval. They were learning. And learning to not be so picky. An empty stomach tended to sharpen one's efforts and lower the bar on what was edible apparently, he thought.
~~~~~O~~~~~
Back at the camp, they spotted the skipper and surfer group hauling in another fish as well as pieces of sea weed and drift wood. All were welcome. They didn't make it into the camp until after the skipper and crew had left though. The skipper waved a hand in passing and kept going on his way.
“He's happy,” Klinger said.
“A man on a mission,” Roy said. “Good for him.”
“I'm glad we've got him,” Klinger said. Roy nodded.
Once they were inside, the group cutting up the fish turned with happy eyes on the pig. The piglets squealed, making those in camp look up in alarm, then confusion, and finally curiosity. Those with heavy bundles set them down at their feet. The piglets were kept together and under watch. Dennis came over to look at them cautiously.
“We've got dinner!” A hunter said, still shouldering one end of the pig's pole. “Where do you want it?” he demanded. “It's heavy!”
The hunter's catch didn't meet with a unanimous celebration, however. Hadji and his wife were visibly upset over the pigs. “It's unclean, unhealthy. Against the will of Allah,” Hadji said, eying the pork flesh.
“Hey, if you don't like it, you don't have to eat it,” Klinger said. “No one will force you to eat it. Me, I'd like seconds, but we need to ration what we've got,” he said. Some nodd
ed at that.
“We're with them. We shouldn't be killing god's creatures. This is our chance at a new Eden! We must do it right!” Shawn said. His wife came to his side and nodded, slipping her hand in his. Together they blocked the way to the cooking fires. “You should have left it alone,” she said. Susan was behind her boss. She nodded emphatically.
“I didn't do it, he did,” Klinger said indicating the professor. Roy raised a hand. The Roberts glared at him.
“Hey, it was a lucky shot. A kill or be killed situation. A mother protecting her babies is nothing to sneeze at,” Klinger said. “And I don't give a hoot what you say; I'm looking forward to some pork roast. I just wish we had some barbeque sauce,” he said.
“Cedar boss, smoke it. And barbeque sauce is sacrilege on a good smoked and roasted pig,” a hunter said.
Klinger looked over his shoulder to the guy and snorted. “Says you maybe,” he finally said. The guy shrugged. “To each his own. To each eat their own if they want. They did fine,” he said, indicating Roy, Chloe and Hetty.
“They?” Candice gasped, free hand over her heart. “You took those children out into the dangerous jungle? How could you! To risk their lives!” she hissed, eyes flashing.
Roy opened his mouth but realized the trap. She was feigning concern to get the parents on her side. He frowned, not sure how to handle it. “To put them in danger,” Shawn said, picking up the thread. A few of the parents muttered darkly.
“First off, the girls are adults, ladies in their own right,” Klinger said, looking at the two. Both nodded. “Second, they didn't set out to find trouble, trouble found them.”
“Still! To take two untutored people into the bush…they could have been killed!” a woman said.
“How do you expect them to learn if you don't teach them?” Klinger asked, now sounding exasperated and at the end of his patience.
Chloe looked down, embarrassed. Hetty, however, had her head held high, brown eyes snapping angrily.
“The ladies in question did just fine. They are hard workers; they just needed a bit of confidence and some guidance to gain experience.” Roy told them. “In this sort of environment, first-hand exposure is the best teacher. We live and learn together. We just need to make sure they have guidance.” He nodded to each of them. “They are good ladies; I trust them,” he said.
The girls puffed up a little at the support and compliment. Hetty blushed but winked at Chloe.
Doc made her way through the crowd. She, however, ripped into Roy, surprising him. “Is this what you call taking it easy?” she growled, hands on her hips. “You're supposed to be resting,” she said caustically.
“Et tu, Doc?” he snorted. He shook his head. “This was taking it easy. Mostly walking,” he said. She eyed him for a moment. “Nothing wrong with my feet, Doc,” he said, pointing downward. “I don't like sitting on my ass,” he said loudly enough for others in the back to hear. There was a bit of an embarrassed shuffle and mutter as his shot went home.
She eyed him for a long moment. “Well, thanks for the supplies anyway. They should help a lot,” she said grudgingly.
“Sitrep, Doc? How are the injured?” Klinger asked.
She sighed softly. “Not good. Stable, but the pilot is…in and out. I think he has an internal bleed, I'm not sure. He's not conscious enough to answer my questions. He's running a high fever.”
“Damn.”
“We've got a couple other infections and one intestinal issue. A guy ate some strange berries. He got sick and barfed them up, but...” She shook her head and frowned.
Klinger nodded grimly. “Damn.” Others overheard her report and went quiet.
She told them they needed more sulfur, cattails and some penicillin to fight infection. “The blueberry tea was great, but we don't have enough. Elsa said she'd try to get more, but berry bushes are spread out, sometimes miles apart she said. It takes a lot to get enough out of them to feed a person, let alone...” she waved a distressed hand.
“A horde like us. Got it,” Klinger said. “I remember my training, Doc,” he reminded her.
“Oh, sorry,” she said. She shook her head and frowned. “The first aid kits from the plane are emptied out. The cattail fluff and washed rags are all we have for bandages. Fortunately, most of the wounds have clotted enough so we don't need as much,” she said.
“I see.”
“What we do need is better cleaners, more medicinal plants, herbs, real food on a regular basis,” she sighed shaking her head.
The corporal nodded and turned to the girls. “Do you two ladies think you can handle another trip?” he asked.
Wary they agreed when he pointed out his hunting party and a few others will do it with them and range out around them.
“Let me put this stuff away and give my clay sample to Lita, and I'll be right along,” Roy said.
“You stay here,” the doctor said, grabbing his arm and holding firm. “I need to check your hands. You we need to keep healthy; you are our resident engineer and tool maker.”
“But…”
“We'll be fine,” Klinger said, shaking his head. “By now we know where to go. Make sure the pigs are handled. Work on a pen or something. A pit,” he said. Roy nodded. “I expect the pig spitted and on the barbeque by the time I get back,” the corporal called, waving a spear to Cookie. She nodded and gave him a thumbs-up over her head. He grinned. “Okay folks, time to get some more side dishes for the barbeque!”
The troop cheered and left in good spirits.
~~~~~O~~~~~
Roy let the doc redress his hands, and then when she had to go deal with an issue in the hospital section of camp he went to the latrines and did his business. He used some of the fluff and sand stored nearby to clean up then rubbed his jaw. He needed a shave, hell, most of the men did. A good bath would be nice, but he didn't trust the water. He didn't know if there were leaches or lamprey eels or other things in the water. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out either.
Hygiene was necessary though. But he put it off for a while longer. Instead, he went to work. His first stop was the old lady, Lita Potter. She loved to joke about her name. She was a friend of Cookie's; they had been traveling together. The lady potter was happy with the clay sample; she cleaned it, picking dirt and things out of it and then shaped it into a small shot glass with expert hands. When she was done, she baked it near the fire.
When it was cooled, she judged it would serve well. “It's porous; it won't last long without a glaze, but it should be okay. It's an improvement though; we're already wearing out the plastic stuff,” she said with a sniff.
Roy nodded. It would be something to supplement the plastic implements they had on hand at least he thought. The dishware they have from the plane was nice, but 90 percent of it was plastic or cardboard. They knew it wouldn't last forever. “Can you get me more?” she asked. He nodded.
“I'll tell the corporal. We'll see if we can get some in. I don't know when though.”
“Wish we had a radio. We could call him,” she said. Roy looked thoughtful for a moment then shrugged it off as a later project. “What are you working on?” she asked, looking over his shoulder to the creation in front of him.
The piglets were housed in pet carriers for now. He knew that wouldn't be a long-term solution, so he had worked out a harness. He held it up. “For the piglets.”
“They'll chew through the leash,” Lita warned.
“Not if it goes straight up to a branch,” he said. “And if it's chain where they can get at it,” he said, picking up a chain he'd salvaged. “Then they can chew all they want and not get anywhere.”
“Branch might break,” she warned.
“We'll have to keep an eye on them,” he replied with a shrug. “It's only until we can make them a proper pen and paddock,” he said.
“Nails?” She asked with a whimsical half smile.
“You are quite the ray of sunshine aren't you?” Roy asked with a laugh. She chuckled. “For your
edification, yes, I am working on that. Until then I've been keeping screws,” he said. She nodded wisely.
Skipper happily presented a pair of what looked like groupers to the cooks at dinner. They were already gutted. “I think we're getting the hang of it now,” he said happily. “That's four today,” he said proudly, sticking his thumbs in his waist band. Roy noted he'd been losing weight.
“We're using life jackets as buoys, the skipper said. “The tide can carry them out further than we can cast if we do it from the headland. A jerk on them lets us know we have a customer. We let them run to set the hook then pull them in.”
“Good!”
“Wish we had more line; we've lost a few,” the skipper said. “But we've got a system up now. One person can service up to six lines at a time. When we get a hit they get the hook set and call in backup. The backup pulls the other lines in, and then they help pull the fish in. I've had two of his biggest guys on them while other people baited hooks or worked the shoreline for more things to get,” the skipper explained.
Lita smiled. “Whatever works. I'd join you but my arthritis would have me wobbling in minutes,” she said, shaking her head. “Though the exercise could do me some good,” she said thoughtfully. “As long as it wasn't too far.”
“It's a bit far out now,” the skipper admitted. “We've picked the area near here clean.”
“Ah,” she nodded. “Too bad then,” she said in dismissal of that idea. “But the fishing is good?”
“It's...yeah well, we've lost four lines. They either break or rip right out of your hands. Any ideas, Professor?” He asked turning on Roy. “We need better hooks too. The fish are getting off them, breaking them or bending them straight.”
“Big mothers,” a guy said. The other fishers nodded.
“I'll see what I can do,” Roy said. “I'll need to heat harden it, which means a forge.”
“Then get on it,” the skipper urged.
“You see what else they brought in?” Lita said, pointing to the pig. The skipper looked and then blinked. He smacked his lips a few times. Roy smiled at Lita who had snorted loudly.