Read Darwin's Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor Online
Authors: Jonathan P. Brazee
Chapter 15
Losing Josh brought us right back down again. We sat quietly lost in our own thoughts. Then Ratt stood in front of us, the smoked venison in one hand, the other hand holding shut her nose. We could smell the rotten decay. Somehow, over the last couple of hours since morning, the meat had spoiled. It had looked fine and tasted fine when I’d had some for breakfast, but it was clearly inedible now.
Ratt threw it in the fire, and putrid smoke rose around us. But I could understand that she hadn’t wanted to go to the river and chuck it there. The pterosaur was probably gone, but who knows what else might be out there?
So we’ve got no food now, and only a bit of water. What now?” Hamlin glanced at Lindadawn after asking.
I wondered if Hamlin was withdrawing. I hoped not. We needed him if we were going to get out of this.
“If you are asking me, we need more water, so we’ve got to haul it here. But everyone goes. And if you are not hauling, you’re armed, and you’re protecting the rest.”
Ratt started to protest, but Hamlin got up and said, “You heard the lady. Let’s go.”
I had been sitting with my spear beside me, so I just got up and joined Hamlin walking out. We gathered at the opening to Haven’s entrance, scanning the area outside. Nothing was moving.
“Corter, Yash, and Alfhid, help me secure the area. The rest of you, you’ve got to haul up the water.”
That put our weakest people hauling up the water, but that made sense to me. The stronger ones would be protecting them.
Thank goodness we had tied off the rope to the bridge stanchion. The four water haulers reached down, and with a lot of grunting and groaning, they got the water to the top. Mike untied the mass of wet clothing, then we all rushed back inside the camp.
“We’re missing some here,” Mike said.
Sure enough, while my jeans were still there, it looked like Borlinga’s headwrap and maybe one legging had been torn away in the raging torrent. Well, there was no help for that. We just might have to make more trips. At least the water bundle wouldn’t be as heavy for them to pull up.
We had to make four more trips before the basin was full. Nothing threatened us, though. The next thing we had to get was food. We could last some time with only water, but not knowing when we would be evacuated, it made sense to get some food while we were still relatively strong. Yash was all for going back for the huge trout, but Lindadawn pointed out that with fewer people, we might not be able to corral them as we did before. I don’t think any of the rest of us wanted to make that climb down, exposed as we would be.
Mike suggested snaring one of the rabbits which we could see occasionally scampering around. That sounded like the best alternative, so we shaved one of the remaining vines with Yash’s knife to make several thin strings. He and Lindadawn made a trigger assembly for a twitch-up snare so we could get in and out as fast as possible. We walked to the bridge head, and pointing our over the clearing, we tried to pick the likeliest spots from there in Haven, which we considered still slightly safer than Indian Country. While we were talking, a rabbit bounded out, snapped up some grass and scratched its ear with its big hind foot before taking a hop back into the underbrush.
“I’m going to take that as a sign,” said Alfhid.
That seemed as good a reason as any. While all of us had learned to make snares before we came, Lindadawn assured us that she was very competent at it. So she became our designated snareman.
“Once we get across, Yash, Alfhid, and Corter, you join me in front,” ordered Hamlin, back in charge. “Let’s make sure nothing’s there first. Lindadawn, you and the rest follow in trace. You can set the snares up while we stand guard.”
Once across, the vanguard pushed into the brush on the other side of the clearing, forming a small perimeter. Lindadawn, Mike, Borlinga, and Ratt looked for likely spots. Lindadawn selected a whippy sapling near a small run, bent it over, giving it to Mike to hold. She attached the string to it, then felt the pull it exerted as it tried to spring back up. Satisfied, she bent down to start emplacing the trigger assembly. She carefully pulled down the noose and hooked it in place. I wanted to watch more, but I could only get glimpses as I scanned the green in front of me for anything big and angry. I could hear her and Mike discuss the snare, though.
“OK,” she said at last. “Now for a drag noose.”
We all moved over to a second run about ten
meters away. As the four guards arranged ourselves, she and Mike started blocking off the run, leaving only a small opening through which a rabbit could squeeze. She quickly set up the noose.
“I wish we had some rabbit urine to rub on this. I don’t want them to smell us.”
I was glad that she seemed to know what she was doing. Like most of the other survival skills, I had taken a quick class on snares, but I wasn’t sure I could actually build a working one.
We carefully stepped back and into the clearing. My eyes kept darting back and forth to spot the danger I knew was coming, but we made it back without incident.
Back at the campsite, we couldn’t really watch the area where we’d placed the snares, so first Yash moved back toward the entrance, and pretty soon, the rest of us had followed. We didn’t stray far, With our backs against the rock walls forming the curved entryway, we could see across the small flat area on our side of the bridge, then over it and the clearing on the other side, and finally into the undergrowth where we had placed the snares. We couldn’t see the drag noose,
It was late morning by then, so whatever rabbits or other small animals were probably resting quietly in their burrows or wherever rabbits rested. We didn’t have rabbits on Monsanto, so I really didn’t know. But we sat there, moving to shadows on the other side of the wall as the sun exposed us. Several times we heard roars of some sort off in the distance, and once we saw branches move as something came close to the clearing, but it was actually quite boring.
Mike went back into camp for a moment and returned with a few pieces of loose flint and a length of Borlinga’s leggings. Tying one end around his wrist, he grasped the other end in the same hand, forming a loop. He put a piece of flint in the bottom of the loop, then stood and went to the edge of the cliff, off to one side of the bridge. I think he was looking for any sign of a target, but nothing moved. He started twirling the makeshift sling over his head a number of times, then let go. The piece of flint arched aimlessly over the river gorge to land in the clearing.
I managed to keep in the chuckle that threatened to escape me. At least he was trying something. I was just sitting there on my butt. Yash jumped up and demanded a try. His throw (was what one did with a sling a “throw?” Or perhaps a “slung?” I certainly didn’t know) was a little better, but not by much. Hamlin and I passed on the opportunity to try, but the others all took a couple of shots. The artificial rock that made up Haven didn’t offer much in the way of loose stones, and with a limited number of flint pieces, no one got more than three tries. It seemed that using a sling was not an inherent skill. No one seemed too competent. While the sling might not have become our new super weapon, it did help to pass the time.
Later in the afternoon, Hamlin stood up, and instead of going back to the ammonia-saturated air of the toilet, he walked over to the edge of the cliff and peed over the edge. I felt an ominous premonition and half got up, spear in hand, heart pounding, but nothing showed itself. He shook himself dry, then turned around, nonchalantly walked back to us and sat down. We all stared at him, not saying a word. He gave a half-shrug, then leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes.
“Wake me up if anything nasty comes,” he simply said.
As evening approached, our stomachs were starting to growl in earnest. Yash brought back up the idea of going for some more trout, and a few of us seemed willing to give it a try.
“Look!” whispered Ratt. “Over there! Something’s moving!”
Yes, we could see some low bushes momentarily shake. Whatever was doing that wasn’t very large.
“Now is about the time we should start seeing some action as they come out to forage. And the clearing gives them grass. So let’s see what happens.” Lindadawn stood as she said that, shading her eyes with her hand against the setting sun.
We all joined her. We kept waiting for something to happen, but as the minutes dragged on, we sort of lost hope. So when the squealing hit us, it took us by surprise. The bent twitch-up tree was still bent, so if that was a rabbit, it had to be in a drag noose. Right then, I realized we hadn’t thought of a plan on how to retrieve anything we might actually snare, and with that squealing, something big was bound to be attracted.
Yash suddenly took off.
“Yash, stop! Wait!” yelled Lindadawn.
He paid her no attention. We surged to our feet, spears ready. We all were getting better at crossing the bridge, so he was over it quickly and running across the clearing. He plunged into the underbrush, drawing his knife. We could see him bend over and make a slashing motion. Turning, he clutched something to his chest and came bolting back. Using one hand to guide him, he hurried back across the bridge and into our midst, holding the still struggling body of a rabbit.
He had slashed the noose, and the rabbit was still ensnared, struggling and squealing. Alfhid took the rabbit from him, and with a quick twist of its neck, silenced it.
Yash stood there, lungs pumping, a huge smile on his face. Lindadawn stepped up and punched him in the chest.
“You idiot! What if that T-Rex had been out there? You could’ve been killed!” The worry was plain on her face.
He rubbed his chest where she had hit him, nonplussed. “But it wasn’t there. If we waited longer, though, it might have come. I knew we had to move fast.” He put his arm around her. “Don’t worry. I made it.”
She gave him a hug. “Well, next time, wait for us. We need to go together on these things, OK?”
“OK, I will. Don’t worry.”
We went back to the campsite and butchered the rabbit. Like all the other survival skills I think most of us crammed before we got here, being taught is different from doing, and the carcass was pretty mauled in the process. But we cooked it over the flames, savoring the aromas which rose from it.
Mike held the end of the noose which had snared the rabbit. “You didn’t have to cut this, you know. Now we have an empty trap out there.”
Yash looked embarrassed. “Yea, I know. But I was freaking, and all I could think of was to get back.”
Hamlin spoke up for the first time in some while. “There’s still a little light left. I say we go put this back. “
None of us wanted to go out there as darkness fell, but it made sense. We left Alfhid as the cook, and Lindadawn picked up the rabbit bladder she had been saving since we’d butchered it. Crossing the bridge wasn’t bad, but as we approached the undergrowth and trees, it seemed that every shadow was a T-Rex waiting to snap at us. Lindadawn smeared the rabbit bladder around the trap and tied the noose back in place. We quickly got out of there and back to camp.
It still took forever for Alfhid to declare the rabbit ready, and we burnt our fingers cramming our small portions into our mouths. But it was delicious, and we licked our fingers clean.
Chapter 16
One medium-sized rabbit was not enough for the eight of us, and when I woke up in the pre-dawn darkness, I discussed this with Lindadawn and Mike, who also woke up early.
“We may be able to get one rabbit a day, if we are lucky. But that assumes we put up more snares, and how far out do we want to go? GBC wasn’t going to spend more than they had to, so the number of constructs wouldn’t be that many, I would guess,” put in Lindadawn.
“Yea,” I countered, “but squealing rabbits would be like beacons for them, drawing whatever is out there in.”
“There are still eight of us, you know,” Mike said. “If that Hell Pig is still out there, I think we could bring it down. And that would feed us for a month.”
“You want to face that thing?”
“No, I don’t. But starving to death is an alternative I don’t want to face, either.”
Lindadawn harrumphed. “And that’s considering it’s a biobeast and not a golem. And that we can kill it. And that we can smoke it without messing up this time.”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s a biobeast. That would make the most sense financially. But you’re right about the smoking. I am still pretty confused about the venison. It sure looked like it was smoked correctly, and then it spoiled so quickly.” He looked up at the sky, lost in thought again.
“Hey, Earth to Mike, or should I say Mars to Mike, come in!” Lindadawn snapped her fingers, getting his attention back. “So what do we know about
Darwin’s Quest
and food? Let’s think this through.”
“In every season, there is always food, right?” I asked. “The cast finds out about where it is from the challenges, like we found the fish, right?”
“Yes, and we know where the fish is. We just aren’t sure that with only eight of us, we can catch them. That’s probably why it was an early challenge.” Mike looked at me.
“Don’t you get it? The food is out there. Like the rabbits. We just have to figure out where. I don’t think we’re going to find a McDonald’s ready to serve us, but there should be fruits, tubers, eggs, whatever. We just have to think like the set designers to figure out where they would have put them.”
They both looked at me. “You know, Mr. Genius here is right. The food has to be there,” Mike said.
“What’s up guys?” Yash joined us, stretching his back until it creaked.
“Just discussing food. It has to be out there. We just have to figure out where and how to get it,” Lindadawn told him.
“Have you looked at our snares yet?” he asked.
While we were talking, it had moved from pre-dawn to true dawn, and there was enough light to see.
“Not yet, but let’s go take a quick look,” Mike said.
The four of us walked over to the entrance and peered to where the traps had been set. It was hard to tell at first, but then there was movement as the sapling jerked. Something was caught. We could hear a very soft and short squeal over the dull rumble of the river below us, nothing like the squealing when the previous day’s rabbit was caught.
“It looks like another rabbit. But it’s barely moving,” Lindadawn said. “I would guess it’s been there for awhile. It looks just about done in.”
“And nothing came to investigate a free meal?” I asked.
“So we’re lucky this time,” Mike said.
Yash started walking to the bridge. “Let’s go get it. We can use it for breakfast.”
“Wait!” Lindadawn grabbed him by his shirt. “Let’s get the rest up, then go get it.”
As we started back, Mike moved up close to me. “There’s something else. Take a look at your transponder.”
I lifted up my short. The rose glow was still there, but it seemed faded.
“Not as bright, right?” he asked.
“Yea, I you’re right.”
“They’re losing power. Normally, the battery inside powering them gets recharged every time we cross a transmission line. But if the power is out, no more recharging. And now the batteries are running out.”
That didn’t sound good. The transponders were our safety blanket.
“But what about the golems? Aren’t the powered the same way?”
“Yes, but they probably have more efficient and bigger batteries. But you’re right. They should be powering down too. But let’s just keep the transponder issue between us for now. No use upsetting the others until we have to.”
We got back and started kicking the feet of the others. “Rise and shine,” I shouted. “Time to go get breakfast!”
It took five or ten minutes, but we were finally up and ready to go. We moved to the bridgehead and went over each of our tasks and positions once more. The rabbit was still, hanging from the snare. Everything else was quiet.
“Do you think it is safe?” asked Ratt.
“It’s still early,” Mike replied. “It’s probably too cool yet for any dinosaurs to be up and about. They need the sun to warm up their bodies. It takes more energy to run a cool golem than a warm one, so in that, they’re probably like real dinosaurs, not getting too active until later in the day.”
“You heard the professor,” Yash said. “Let’s go.”
Moving across the bridge, we waited until everyone was in place, then moved forward to the edge of the clearing. Hamlin and Yash moved in, Hamlin on guard, Yash to collect the rabbit, its dull, glassy eyes staring accusingly at us.
We all watched eagerly as Yash worked the snare loose and pulled the rabbit free. He turned around to hold it aloft to us in triumph, a huge smile on his face.
He was still smiling when a huge head materialized from behind him, slashing down to clamp around his shoulder. We had all been looking at Yash and the rabbit, but it seemed impossible that something that big could have been hidden so close to us.
The huge head lifted, taking Yash off the ground. It had to have been at least three or four meters high, and it stared at us with yellow eyes, Yash in its jaws. It looked like the same dinosaur that had chased us through the tunnel. Hamlin ducked down and jumped forward, thrusting his spear. Although only a fraction of the thing’s mass, his 120 kilos were concentrated on the very small spear tip, and it easily plunged deep into its belly. Galvanized, I jumped over a low bush and scrambled into the attack. Alfhid and Ratt were moving, too, and I tripped over Ratt. On my knees, I pushed my spear into it as well, feeling the stone point part flesh.
I was knocked flat as Yash fell on me, dropped by the beast as it raised its head to roar out in anger. I pushed Yash off me, grabbed his collar, and dragged him back the four or five meters to the clearing. Lindadawn and Borlinga helped me drag him free.
Risking a glance back, I saw the bright red and black beast as it tried to lower its head to bite Hamlin, its
small, two-fingered arms grasping at the spear which he used to lever the thing up. Three more spears were sticking into it, but it was Hamlin’s spear which was being driven deeper as the thing struggled. Black blood leaked around the spear shafts as Hamlin let go his spear to grab one of the others and push it deeper. A big man, Hamlin was still dwarfed by the dinosaur, yet he was imposing his will on it. Its struggles got weaker until with a huge exhalation of air, it stopped moving.
While Borlinga and Lindadawn struggled to staunch the blood flowing from Yash’s neck and shoulder, Hamlin took the spear out of the beast, carefully sighted it to the thing’s eyes, and plunged it home. There was no reaction.
Ratt and Alfhid grabbed and pulled out the other spears as Hamlin stood motionless, staring at the huge corpse. Ratt shook his arm, and he suddenly seemed to come to his senses and extracted the spear still sticking onto the thing’s eye socket. Mike moved forward and put a finger in the black blood, then brought the finger to his nose to sniff if.
“Golem,” he announced before turning around and joining us standing around Yash.
Yash was gasping for air. He looked up, fear evident in his eyes. Borlinga was putting all her weight on his terrible wounds, but blood was still coming out between her fingers.
Ratt sat down and held his hand, tears in her eyes. She looked up at Mike. “I thought you said it was safe!” she cried.
Mike said nothing.
Yash tried to say something, but nothing came out. Lindadawn, covered in his blood, reached up to cup his chin. “Easy, Yash. We’ve got you.”
And Yash went, his eyes going glassy and dull, matching those of the rabbit, which he still clutched in his hands.
Ratt started sobbing, and the rest of us looked on in shock. Lindadawn leaned over to kiss his forehead, the stood up. “We’ve got to get back. This’ll bring something else. So move it!” she said, her voice cracking at the last. She pried the rabbit from his hand.
“We’re taking Yash. There’s still time to resurrect him if they come quickly.” Hamlin was adamant, but no one was disagreeing. I took his legs and Hamlin hooked his arms under Yash’s chest. We got him back to the bridge somewhat easily, but getting over that one rope was difficult. With Yash slippery with blood, and me needing two hands to hold him, Alfhid had to come up behind me and use one arm around my chest to steady me, her other arm holding onto the bridge. Mike did the same with Hamlin, walking backward.
I slipped twice, one leg falling to dangle in space, the other bent underneath me, but Alfhid pulled me up, and we finally made it across. We took Yash and laid him on ground by the log bench. His pale face and beard were flecked with blood, his eyes staring sightlessly to the sky. Ratt tried to close them, but the lids would not stay completely closed.
Lindadawn had given the rabbit to Alfhid, and soon it was cooking over the fire. The smell didn’t seem so tantalizing this time. When it was done, she handed out pieces of charred meat. I don’t think any of us were really hungry anymore, but at Lindadawn’s urging, all of us except for Ratt managed to get our portion down. Ratt refused to even try, so Lindadawn eventually left her alone.