Installment #4
I feel my entire body convulsing, writhing. An external
force is shaking me into consciousness. I hear a voice… “Rashido! Wake up!” A
long sigh invades my ears, and suddenly the sharp crack of a palm striking my
cheek sweeps across my consciousness, followed closely by the pain it was
intended to cause. I’m more aware now, and I can hear Black Ice saying, “Do you
want to eat or not, you lazy fuck?” I open my eyes to see him kneeling beside
my body, with a grin on his face. When he notices my open eyes, he rises to his
feet and extends a hand for me to grip. I take it, rubbing sleep out of my
eyes. I chuckle and say, “You could have just yelled some more…” He replies,
“But that wouldn’t have been as much fun!” I grin, and look to see people
crouched around the cooking trench waiting, steam billowing up around them.
Wild Dog walks through a gap in the throng of people, using sticks to carry a
rock fresh from the fire. He drops it in and more steam bursts from the hollow
in the earth. I begin to walk over to the pit, followed by Black Ice, and
people move out of the way. I pass Emily, and she smiles at me. I return the
smile, but continue walking towards the pit.
The boiling water is populated by many large crustaceans
that I suppose will be our dinner. “What’s all this? There were less than half
this many crawfish the last time I checked!” I say to no one in particular.
Superpredator exclaims, “We made more of those spears and caught lots more! See
those two?” He points to two random crawfish in the trench, with a smug look on
his face. “I caught those!” With a glance to Wild Dog, who is shaking his head
in amusement, I play along, saying “Wow, that’s great! I think those ones are
the biggest!” I’m lying, but it still brings a wide smile to the young boy’s face,
and that’s more important than total honesty at a time like this. Suddenly,
something occurs to me. “Guys, what are we going to eat these with? We don’t have any plates or anything…”
Brittany stands up holding a bunch of paper plates. “Found these in the bag. As
well as some plastic silverware. We’ll be okay utensil-wise for a while.”
“Great,” I say.
“Hey, whatever happened to that porcupine?” I say, suddenly
wondering what else has changed in the past few hours. Theropod speaks up, “I
plucked all the quills for later use and cleaned and skinned it. It’s over
there, waiting to be cooked.” He points to the carcass lain out on a large
river rock by the stream. A bit of red stains the rock, and I can see small
fish eating the entrails caught in an eddy not too far downstream. “All right,”
I say, walking towards the porcupine, “Looks like enough to feed a few people.
Anyone who’s uncomfortable eating seafood can have this. Just make sure its cooked
well.” A few people stand, and walk to me to retrieve the rodent. “Do we have
any vegetarians here?” I say, looking around. An older woman, DinoMike, and a
few college girls raise their hands. “Well, it’s about time to abandon your
morals. Eat up!” They look disappointed, but I don’t feel bad at all. They need
to understand that it’s time to grow up and face the real world where you eat
anything and everything you can just to stay alive.
The sun is setting to the west, and the proximity of dark
clouds suddenly alarms me. ‘It appears we have some… active weather patterns…’
I say inside my mind. I walk up to Brittany. “How many tarps and thermal
blankets do we have?” She says “4 tarps and 10 thermal blankets. We used one
tarp for the cooking pit. Why?” I reply, with some urgency, “Rain is coming. If
we get rained on, the injured could easily die, and many of us will catch colds
and such. I know colds don’t sound like a big deal, but in this type of
situation they really are. We need to make some kind of shelter, and fast.” She
nods, and goes off to tell the other members of the camp who hold some
authority. The rest of the camp settles down to eat as I stride off into the
bush, past the fern clearing, and into the small willow grove where I made my
spear. I pull out my kukri, and thank myself for making such a versatile tool.
The weight-forward design makes chopping easy, but it’s also balanced for throwing and capable of both the harshest and most delicate tasks. I chop away at the base of a small willow, and it only takes 3 chops to cut all the way through the 1 ½ inch trunk of the young tree. I cut down a total of 10, all around the same size (7 feet long and 1 ½ inches thick), enough for the ribs of a decent sized shelter, over a 5 minute period, as the dark clouds slowly begin to spread over the sky. I return to camp carrying them, and begin to strip the bark for tying on the tarps. Wyvax and Black Ice, the only others with metal knives, join in. Wild Dog selects a large, straight piece of bamboo about 20 feet long (one of our largest pieces) destined to become the spine of our basic shelter. I push aside pieces of the bamboo floor so that I can dig at the dirt to make a depression to insert the base of the willow into. I do this every four feet or so, spreading them apart so the space inside will be about 8 feet across and 20 feet long, with a 4 ½ foot ceiling. While I do this, Wild Dog and Wyvax assemble the skeleton of the shelter and Black Ice goes around the camp letting everyone know what’s going on.
The weight-forward design makes chopping easy, but it’s also balanced for throwing and capable of both the harshest and most delicate tasks. I chop away at the base of a small willow, and it only takes 3 chops to cut all the way through the 1 ½ inch trunk of the young tree. I cut down a total of 10, all around the same size (7 feet long and 1 ½ inches thick), enough for the ribs of a decent sized shelter, over a 5 minute period, as the dark clouds slowly begin to spread over the sky. I return to camp carrying them, and begin to strip the bark for tying on the tarps. Wyvax and Black Ice, the only others with metal knives, join in. Wild Dog selects a large, straight piece of bamboo about 20 feet long (one of our largest pieces) destined to become the spine of our basic shelter. I push aside pieces of the bamboo floor so that I can dig at the dirt to make a depression to insert the base of the willow into. I do this every four feet or so, spreading them apart so the space inside will be about 8 feet across and 20 feet long, with a 4 ½ foot ceiling. While I do this, Wild Dog and Wyvax assemble the skeleton of the shelter and Black Ice goes around the camp letting everyone know what’s going on.
Once the skeleton is erected, we go to Brittany and get the
tarps and blankets. “Thanks.” Black Ice says with a wink. Wild Dog facepalms while Wyvax and I glance at each other knowingly,
silently laughing at both Black Ice’s antics and Wild Dog’s despair. We make
our way back to the skeleton shelter, and begin to tie on the layers of
waterproof material, with thermal blankets on the inside and tarps covering the
exterior. Just as tiny drops of rain begin to fall, we finish the shelter, and
line the floor with whatever spare clothes we can find, usher everyone inside,
and close the door. Wild Dog walks up to me and says, “Will you still be taking
watch?” I’m not sure how to respond, seeing as everyone is cramped inside this
tent there’s not much to watch for. “We don’t want animals to become attracted
to the camp. Someone will have to be outside to drive them off.” He says,
elaborating further. I reply, “Oh, all right. Yeah, I can handle it. You guys
go to bed.” Wild Dog nods his thanks as I pull on my sweatshirt and exit the
tent. Everyone has all their stuff inside, and all the rubbish from the day’s
events, including broken handaxes, discarded cane reed, and crawfish remains
have been deposited in a heap at the base of the oak tree in the center of the
fern clearing. Deciding that the trash heap would be the most likely point of
interest to carnivores, I climb the tree and sit atop a sturdy branch about 12
feet off the ground. Stable, partially sheltered by the leaves of the tree, and
with a commanding view of the surrounding area, it appears I have found the
optimum lookout spot. The rain blurs my view of the area however, and the
quickly fading light isn’t helping. Despite my earlier cat nap, within a few
minutes of inactivity I begin to doze…
5 hours later…
[i]*sniff*[/i]
‘What’s going on?’ I say to myself, groggy from sleep. I
look up and see the crescent moon indicating a time of around 11 pm.
[i]*sniff* *sniff*[/i]
I look down to see a coyote sifting through the trash,
eating the remains of the crawfish. I gasp, and pull out my knife. Growling, it
looks up and bares its teeth, eyes flashing in the darkness. I leap down from
the tree, rolling into a combat position, with a firm, spread out stance, knees
bent, facing the canid down. Much to my surprise, it begins to advance slowly,
indicating no fear. ‘It must not have interacted with people before…’ I say to
myself, baring my own teeth and letting out an animalistic snarl in hopes of
scaring it off. I hear someone stir inside the tent behind me, and I’m
distracted for a moment. Taking advantage of my partially lowered guard, the
coyote leaps forward, snarling, straight for my throat. I react instantly,
grabbing the coyote’s throat and holding it in midair, I plunge my kukri
into its side, sinking all 11 inches of the blade into its body, providing
lethal penetration.
It yelps, and snaps feebly at my hands in a bid to escape its now certain fate. I let go of my knife, which is still embedded into its side, and raise my hand to grab onto its lower jaw. I then let go of its throat, and grab its upper jaw with my other hand. I can feel jaw muscles feebly flexing, trying to bite, but my hands hold its jaws in place. I see blood flooding its throat as it weakly wheezes, suffering from a ripped lung, the result of my lethal stab. I feel a wave of anger at this innocent creature, simply trying to find a meal. In the recesses of my mind I know this, but the mere notion that this filthy animal would try and steal or harm me and my friends fills me with rage. Without warning, I pull my hands in opposite directions with as much force as I can muster, and rip the small coyote’s lower jaw clean off of its head. It was nearly dead, but the destruction of its jaw completed the process. Panting heavily, my hands covered in blood, I hear a stifled cry behind me. Still baring my teeth, adrenaline pumping through my veins, I turn to see Emily, Black Ice, and Adamantus staring at me, all with different expressions on their faces. Emily looks on in horror, one hand held over her mouth, Black Ice with approval, and Adamantus with plain old shock.
It yelps, and snaps feebly at my hands in a bid to escape its now certain fate. I let go of my knife, which is still embedded into its side, and raise my hand to grab onto its lower jaw. I then let go of its throat, and grab its upper jaw with my other hand. I can feel jaw muscles feebly flexing, trying to bite, but my hands hold its jaws in place. I see blood flooding its throat as it weakly wheezes, suffering from a ripped lung, the result of my lethal stab. I feel a wave of anger at this innocent creature, simply trying to find a meal. In the recesses of my mind I know this, but the mere notion that this filthy animal would try and steal or harm me and my friends fills me with rage. Without warning, I pull my hands in opposite directions with as much force as I can muster, and rip the small coyote’s lower jaw clean off of its head. It was nearly dead, but the destruction of its jaw completed the process. Panting heavily, my hands covered in blood, I hear a stifled cry behind me. Still baring my teeth, adrenaline pumping through my veins, I turn to see Emily, Black Ice, and Adamantus staring at me, all with different expressions on their faces. Emily looks on in horror, one hand held over her mouth, Black Ice with approval, and Adamantus with plain old shock.
I turn, raising my hands apologetically, when Emily’s eyes
get even wider. Two baby coyotes make their way out of the bushes. When they
see their bloodied mother lying on the ground, they start keening in despair.
Tears flow freely from my eyes as the blood is slowly washed away from the
rain, and the pups wail in despair at the sight of their dead mother. I put my
head in my hands, quietly crying, as Black Ice comes up to me and puts a hand
on my shoulder. Adamantus and Emily retreat to the tent, Adamantus
expressionless and Emily crying almost as hard as I am. They obviously expect
me to kill them, maybe even in the same manner their mother died, and they
simply can’t bear to watch. I shake my head in disbelief, and my voice breaks
repeatedly as I manage to choke out, “If I had known she had pups, I would
never have… She attacked me first! I… I didn’t mean to…” My voice is barely
audible above the rain. Black Ice, sensing I need to be alone for a moment, walks
away, his face somber at the sights and sounds produced by the orphaned babies.
They couldn’t be older than a month or two, and definitely not yet weaned.
‘Where is the father?’ I think to myself as I walk towards the pups.
Suddenly, he bursts from the bushes, with a fury surpassing
the rage I felt just seconds before tenfold. He attempts to get the babies away
before his inevitable attack, but I know I can’t let him take them. Without
milk they’ll die. I can take care of them better than he can now, it’s my
responsibility. I put myself between him and his pups, and he snarls viciously.
Knowing that I am saving these babies from the thing that loves them the most
in this world threatens to tear my heart asunder, but it must be done.
I tackle the coyote as he leaps for my throat in the same manner his deceased mate did, and a cold determination sweeps over me, drowning out the waves of emotion washing over me. I force the small animal to the ground, and end him in the same way he would have done to me. I hold down his head and body with either arm and rip his throat apart with my teeth, tasting the salty, thick life’s blood of the coyote rushing all over my face and filling my mouth. At the taste and the feeling, despite my feelings of remorse and sadness, a carnal sense of joy fills me for an instant, and I hate myself for it. Either way, I tear more at the throat of the small coyote till its struggles stop. Suddenly peaceful, my face and hands still covered in blood, I stand and turn my face up to the sky. The rain washes me clean as I stand in the center of the downpour. The wailing of the pups brings me back to reality, and I spin around to see them trying in vain to get a last meal of milk from their mother. Upon closer inspection, I observe that both parents were unusually small and emaciated. ‘They must have been vagrants; their pups probably would have died anyway.’ I think to myself, and take heart in knowing that in the end I probably saved the pups from starvation. I pick them up and bundle them up in my sweatshirt pocket, in an attempt to keep them warm. They stop wailing and sit quietly inside my sweatshirt, huddling together.
I tackle the coyote as he leaps for my throat in the same manner his deceased mate did, and a cold determination sweeps over me, drowning out the waves of emotion washing over me. I force the small animal to the ground, and end him in the same way he would have done to me. I hold down his head and body with either arm and rip his throat apart with my teeth, tasting the salty, thick life’s blood of the coyote rushing all over my face and filling my mouth. At the taste and the feeling, despite my feelings of remorse and sadness, a carnal sense of joy fills me for an instant, and I hate myself for it. Either way, I tear more at the throat of the small coyote till its struggles stop. Suddenly peaceful, my face and hands still covered in blood, I stand and turn my face up to the sky. The rain washes me clean as I stand in the center of the downpour. The wailing of the pups brings me back to reality, and I spin around to see them trying in vain to get a last meal of milk from their mother. Upon closer inspection, I observe that both parents were unusually small and emaciated. ‘They must have been vagrants; their pups probably would have died anyway.’ I think to myself, and take heart in knowing that in the end I probably saved the pups from starvation. I pick them up and bundle them up in my sweatshirt pocket, in an attempt to keep them warm. They stop wailing and sit quietly inside my sweatshirt, huddling together.
I see Black Ice looking at me in shock. Even he was
astonished at my actions, murdering both parents of the pups, and then caring
for them. He shakes his head in disbelief, pulls out his own knife, and
proceeds to begin skinning and cleaning the mother of the pups. He pulls out my
kukri and tosses it to me. I catch it and return it to its sheath. With a nod
towards the tent, he indicates I should return to the tent. I nod lightly, and
begin to walk away. As I go back inside, Emily stares at me, with both fear and
longing in her eyes. Appalled at what I’ve done, but also wanting to comfort me
at the sight of my distress, the latter emotion wins out and she approaches me.
I pull out one of the pups from my jacket and her eyes grow huge. She looks me
in the eye, questions flooding forth, but she restrains them. A sheen of relief
hides within her large hazel eyes, and it’s obvious she didn’t want me to kill
the pups. I lie down, and take her into my arms, the pups warm between us. I
fall asleep curled around her and the baby coyotes, and because of my horror at
both my actions and the joy I felt when I ripped out the throat of the male, I find myself unable to sleep. Guilt roots itself within me. Despite all my bluster, I'm still a teenage kid from the city.
So, another chapter. Hope you guys like it. Not super happy with the coyote scene, it felt a bit rushed to me. If anyone has comments or questions just ask. Thanks!
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