by Shea, Hunter
“Please don’t tell me you’re taking me down there,” she said to her hirsute kidnappers.
They stared at her with something that almost seemed like pity.
For as magical as Gadang Ur appeared, it was also terrifying as hell. She didn’t have to be a genius to know that everything down there could easily kill her, and might just very well want to when they saw her.
The creatures bent down and each took a leg again.
“No! No! No!”
Natalie pleaded with them as they hoisted her down the hillside, ever closer to the last place on earth she wanted to visit.
Chapter Twenty
Henrik followed Oscar to a small cave that had been partially hidden by several felled trees. It took some effort to scale the massive, decomposing trunks. At one point, his hand sank up to his wrist in wet, rotted pulp. He looked at his hand, which was covered in gray, wriggling worms. Flicking his wrist, he scattered the woodworms, keeping close behind Oscar.
The cave was much cooler, a merciful break from the rain forest’s omnipresent heat and humidity. It was just big enough for him to stand at a crouch.
Oscar whispered into the dark, “I found Henrik.”
There was shuffling of feet. Surya and Yandi emerged from the recesses of the cave. The meager light filtering through the cave’s mouth showed two wounded, terrified men. The old guide had a knot the size of a baseball on his forehead. His neck and arms were a patchwork of scratches.
Yandi looked to have broken his nose. It was flat as a boxer’s, his eyes black and blue and nearly swollen shut. It also appeared he had lost three of his front teeth, his upper lip split like a hot dog.
“It is good to see you, I am sure,” Surya said, his tongue thick as a sausage.
He must have a concussion, Henrik thought.
“Do you have any weapons?”
Henrik showed them his carved stick. “Unfortunately, this is it.”
Both men looked crestfallen. Slope-shouldered, they sat on the smooth, stone floor.
“We need weapons,” Surya said, sounding close to tears. “We cannot fight them without guns.”
Oscar crouched next to the man, shaking his shoulder. “We might not have to fight at all. Henrik and I will find a way to get us all back and safe. We’ve been in far worse situations, am I right?”
He looked to Henrik, his eyes pleading him to agree, even though they both knew this was as bizarre and dangerous a predicament as anyone had ever found themselves embroiled within.
Henrik said, “Compared to Afghanistan, this is a walk in the zoo.”
That seemed to bring some level of comfort to Surya, who then translated for Yandi. The porter perked up a bit.
“I assume you’ve been keeping a watch on the entrance,” Henrik said to his friend.
“You’re not talking to an amateur.”
“And?”
“Those hairy fellas are all about. Not sure if they’re looking for us, foraging for food or just like to stroll around the forest. But they usually walk alone. I haven’t seen any groups. I know we can take them when they’re alone. My twelve-year-old niece is taller than most of them, for Christ’s sake.”
Henrik peered out of the opening. “Don’t confuse size with strength, Oscar.”
“Regardless, I’m sure you’ll agree that you and I can easily take one on. But we’ll die of thirst before we get them all that way.” He sidled up next to Henrik, talking too low for Surya to hear. “It’s not the hairy ones that worry me. It’s the other things I’ve seen out there.”
“I’m having a difficult time reconciling what I just saw myself.”
“Was it one of the dinos that run faster than a leopard? We saw one take out a wild boar as if it were a baby chick.”
Henrik shuddered. “Lord no. If that was the case, I doubt I’d still be here. So, these creatures are both on land and in the air.”
“And under our feet, for all we know. Did they have giant moles during the Jurassic period?”
Oscar chuckled. Henrik was too tired and confused to join him. Surya and Yandi didn’t seem to appreciate the joke, either.
“I don’t recall ever hearing stories of dinosaurs roaming the Sumatran rain forest,” Henrik said, leaning against the cold cave wall. “But there’s no denying they’re here.”
“No sir, that ship has sailed. The SS Denial is long gone. So, what do we do about it?” Oscar sharpened the edge of his knife with a rock. “I know we came here for your Orang Pendeks, but things have changed just a tad. We need to find the others, if they’re still alive and to be found, and beat a hasty retreat.”
Something ran past the cave with a great, lumbering gait. Henrik peeped out of the cave but couldn’t see what it was. He wasn’t sure that was a bad thing.
He said, “Surya, do you think you and Yandi could find our way back to the camp?”
The old guide was chewing on the end of a finger, the nail long gone, shredded flesh bleeding. He considered Henrik’s question a moment, then said, “Yes, I can, but how is it possible with those things out there? We will die long before we ever get there, I am sure.”
“We’ll have to be careful. It’s imperative that we get to the camp. Even more so that we find the McQueens and your men.”
An awful smell wafted into the cave. Oscar put his raised index finger to his lips, urging everyone to be quiet. They listened to the shuffling of leaves. Something was just outside the cave. Henrik silently stepped away from the opening, lest he be seen.
The footsteps trailed away, the stench dissipating.
Oscar whispered, “One of your little friends. Like I said, they wander about all the time.”
Henrik considered their odds, felt his stomach tighten, and decided anything was better than cowering in fear and dying in this cave. He knew Oscar felt the same way. He hoped it didn’t come down to threatening Surya and Yandi to get the hell out of here.
After waiting several minutes, Henrik said, “We should leave now, while we have plenty of light. We need to see where we’re going as much as we need to spot what’s coming.”
Oscar twirled the blade’s handle. “I’m ready when you are. I’m starving and I left my good homemade jerky in my pack back at the camp.”
Henrik looked to the Sumatran guide and porter. Surya put his head in his hands, breathing deeply. Yandi stared at them, miserable, frightened and completely unaware of what they were talking about. When Surya mumbled something to him, he too dropped his head in his hands.
“We must pray first,” Surya said. “Then we go.”
Most of the people of Indonesia were Muslim, but not the form of Islam that the western world had come to fear. Theirs was a looser, far from radicalized version that wove in older, local beliefs.
“By all means, pray for all of us,” Henrik said.
Oscar nudged him. “You might want to throw out a couple of Hail Marys yourself.”
After a few moments of silence, they clambered out of the cave, a foursome of dirt and blood encrusted newborns struggling from Mother Earth. For the moment, all was clear. Keeping to the trees, Surya surveyed the sun through the rifts in the heavy leaves and pointed east. Oscar held his knife before him, Henrik his stick.
A muscular roar in the distance froze them in their tracks for a moment. Yandi’s legs were literally shaking. Henrik reached out and held onto his shoulder until he settled down.
Surya urged Oscar to continue, the heat and flies sticking to them like a second skin, adding yet another layer of misery to their fractured expedition.
They hadn’t gone far when Oscar held up a hand, halting their slow progress. He pointed behind two trees that looked to have grown from the same seed, joined like a V at the ground.
An Orang Pendek was crouched at the base of the V, jamming a stick in the ground and picking around the dirt. Henrik assumed he was foraging for insects.
Yandi saw the red haired creature and gasped.
The Orang Pendek went rigid, staring ri
ght at them. The stick fell from its hands.
“He doesn’t look happy to see us,” Oscar said from the side of his mouth.
“Most assuredly not,” Henrik said, tightening his grip on the stick.
From then, it became an Old West staredown, neither side daring to make the first move, eyes boring into one another. When Henrik looked into the ape man’s jet black eyes, he felt as if he were locked into the hard gaze of an intelligent but exceedingly dangerous man.
Oscar called out to it. “You’re not so tough without your elephant, are you?”
At first blush it seemed to be a reckless abuse of false bravado. But Henrik knew it was his old friend attempting to break the creature’s concentration, putting it off-kilter. It would either run from or toward them.
It bore its teeth in a silent scream that was worse than if it had yelled at the top of its lungs with a primeval war cry.
Oscar’s words had done the trick. The Orang Pendek rushed wildly at them. Henrik pushed Surya and Yandi behind him.
Henrik braced for impact, hoping that nothing else decided to join the fray. There was just so much damage a stick and a knife could inflict, even when in the hands of trained and experienced killers.
The Orang Pendek attacked, and Henrik learned in short order just how powerful the little men of the forest truly were.
Chapter Twenty-One
The place looked like something out of a Tarzan peyote trip.
Somewhere during their descent, the back of Natalie’s head had hit one rock too many, shutting her lights out with extreme prejudice. She came to lying on her back amidst a clearing of moss so soft, it was like resting on a meadow of pillows. The strange growth had a sweet fragrance that reminded her stomach how empty is was.
The sun hung like an angry lemon drop above her, beaming through the thin cloud layer. She closed her eyes, settling back into the lush carpet.
At least those ugly Magilla Gorillas were gone.
“Maybe later, I’ll walk down that street and see what all the fuss is about.”
She bolted awake, sitting up so fast her wounded head spun.
“Holy Christ on a cracker!”
The area she’d been deposited was actually a raised garden, the sole plant being the cushy green stuff beneath her. Stretching out from the garden was a long, straight path that had been carved through the jungle and paved around the time Caesar was getting all sorts of hails. Along both sides of the street were the partial remains of what looked to be houses.
The fuss, as her addled brain had called it, was a gathering of what could only be Orang Pendeks. Most had their signature rust colored hair, but there were also quite a few with gray and light brown body length manes. She had to rub her eyes and squint to make out more detail, as they were, for now, keeping their distance from her.
She was somehow shocked to see that some of them had breasts.
Lady Orang Pendeks.
Of course there had to be females. How else could they survive? It’s not as if they could be million year old offshoots of the homo family tree. Unless they, like the dinosaurs, were living in some kind of Sumatran amber that Gadang Ur produced.
Also mingling with the males and females were even smaller Orang Pendeks. The children were, she hated to admit, even to herself, adorable. Their fur looked softer, their color more vibrant. They walked and ran and were scolded by the older Orang Pendeks just like human children.
If she hadn’t seen the Orang Pendeks before her unceremonious capture, she would swear she was permanently brain damaged from the beating her noggin had taken.
One of the children stepped on an adult’s foot and got a swipe to the head. That started a debate among the others, their animated speech chilling her because it sounded so utterly alien. Every hard consonant, very drawn out vowel seemed to be laced with a kind of menace.
She thought of herself and Austin growing up, twin whirling dervishes that spent most of their days running around their expansive backyard like feral children. Her mother had done her best to keep them under control, or on really crazy days, let them simply run themselves out. It didn’t help that she gave them pitchers of Kool-Aid and Pop-Tarts throughout the day because that’s what loving moms did back before everything went crazy and gluten was a thing to be feared like cancer.
“Austin, stop flicking your sister’s ears!” she would bark from the safety of the kitchen window.
Or “Natalie, don’t let me catch you hanging from that tree branch again or you’re going to regret it!”
The twins would roll their eyes and dart off for the next adventure, building a ramp so they could ride their scooter over a pile of milk crates.
Natalie touched her right elbow, right where she’d broken it during one of those ill-fated stunts. Austin had run fast as the Road Runner to get their mother, comforting her as best he could before beating feet. From then on, he never let her ride her scooter over one of their rickety ramps again. That didn’t stop him from doing it, and breaking his nose three weeks after her cast came off.
He always looked out for her. Natalie knew he was doing all he could to find her now. The key was managing to stay alive long enough for him to come to her rescue.
So far, they hadn’t intentionally hurt her, but dying of fright wasn’t off the table.
I wonder if they’ve forgotten all about me.
She looked to her left and saw a clear line of escape, right into the tree line. They must be on the outskirts of Gadang Ur. All she had to do was run her ass off and hope by the time they realized she was gone, it would be too late to find her.
Natalie got her legs under her and stopped in mid-crouch. The Orang Pendeks were still in deep conversation, their arms gesticulating like old Sicilian men in an espresso fueled debate. She dared to stand up straight, pivoted toward the jungle, and paused once again to make sure their attention hadn’t been drawn back to her.
“Lady luck hates my guts.”
Several Orang Pendek pointed at her, hooting something that sounded like a cross between a wolf’s howl and a parrot’s squawk. That got the gathering – males, females and troublesome children – headed in her direction at a full sprint.
Natalie’s knees turned to jelly. There was no freaking way she could outrun them. If she even made it into the trees, she was still as good as caught. This was their home. She’d be lost in seconds and they’d been on her like, well, like stink on an ape.
And now that the two dozen Orang Pendeks were almost upon her, she realized she’d need a word better than stink to describe their heady aroma.
Maybe funkawful.
The children were the quickest, crossing the distance like little Olympic athletes. Two of them wrapped themselves around her legs, knocking her off balance. She spun her arms, trying to stay on her feet. Despite their being terrifying cryptids, she didn’t want to fall on them and hurt them.
She was also pretty sure there would be a steep price to pay if she harmed them in any way.
An adult female Orang Pendek was next, her pendulous, furry breasts still swinging even after she had stopped and held onto Natalie’s arm. The rest of the gang surrounded her; a chattering nightmare, a wall of funkawful, a circle of angry Frankenstein villagers. All that was missing were the torches and pitchforks.
Their bare faces were grooved with deep lines, even the smaller ones. Their skin ranged from a pale peach to charcoal. Natalie couldn’t help feeling she was being accosted by the United Nations of Orang Pendeks. Their breath alone was enough to make her want to rip her lungs out of her chest. They wailed so loud, she couldn’t even hear herself think, which was a good thing because her brain had gone into hyperdrive, every synapse racing toward the worst possible scenarios.
She closed her eyes and covered her ears, feeling their bodies press closer and closer.
“All right! All right! I’m not going anywhere!”
The sound of her voice cut off their wild chattering as suddenly as twisting the valve shut on a
faucet.
She dared to open one eye.
The Orang Pendeks had taken a step back. She wasn’t sure which was worse, their crazy screaming or this absolute silence. Even the children had released her legs, scampering between the adults until she couldn’t see them anymore.
There’s no way they’re afraid of me. I can’t be that lucky.
“H…hello,” she said sheepishly.
The cryptids shrank back, heads turning on barely visible necks, studying the strange human in their midst.
Okay Natalie, just keep talking. Shouldn’t be a problem for you.
“Real nice place you have here. Kinda reminds me of Baltimore.” When she swept her arm around to showcase the surrounding structures, one of the small Orang Pendeks let out a terrified squeak.
She spotted the little guy cowering behind a gray haired female. Bending down, she offered her hand. “Hey little guy. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Then she looked at the surrounding adults, their mouths open slightly, staring at her with dumb fascination. “Not that your goons gave me the same courtesy. First you tried to scare us, then trample us, kidnap me and demolish my back and head. Not cool.”
A female, her coat a brilliant red with highlights of blond, took a tentative step toward her, arms outstretched, elongated index finger daring to touch her arm before pulling back as if Natalie were composed of a deadly current. The creature stood at an odd angle, as if something was wrong with its hip or spine. Natalie smiled. “Yep, I’m real all right.”
The bravery of the Orang Pendek spurred the others to approach Natalie. But instead of being menacing, they were almost reverential. Rough hands stroked her skin and hair with the utmost delicacy. Some of them were actually cooing as they explored their newfound anomaly. She was tempted to shout Boo! and flail her arms about, just to see if she could scare them away. After considering a host of possible consequences, none of them ending with her being allowed to leave Gadang Ur, she dropped the idea altogether.