Darwin's Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor Page 7

  “It’s an entelodont.” Mike had made his way to the front. I spared a glance at him, not wanting to take my eyes off the beast.

  “The Hell Pig? You’ve never heard of it?” No one said anything. “Come on, guys. I’m not even from Earth, but even I know that. It’s from North America, from the Eocene and Miocene periods. And that is a big one, for sure.”

  “So that thing is real?” asked Joda, her voice incredulous.

  “Sure is. Or was. It’s been extinct for 20 million years or so.”

  “Thank goodness for small favors,” she added.

  “I think we see a theme here,” Lindadawn told us. “A T-Rex, huge old trout, this thing. An ice age. I guess we’re the Prehistoric Season.”

  “Makes sense to me. So what do we do about it now? Do we kill it?” As usual, Hamlin was all about business.

  Yash took out the challenge message again. “It says here, ‘Sometimes you have to fight for what you need.’ Maybe we only have to drive it off to get that animal it killed.”

  Josh chuckled a little wryly. “As if that’s gonna make it SO much easier. But yea, I kinda like your position on that. Let’s just drive it off.”

  The Hell Pig stood guarding the body of the deer, maybe twenty meters from us. We sort of shuffled around, forming a very loose semi-circle around it. It feinted a charge, causing us to start, and causing Julie to drop her spear. I could hear it fall and her exclamation, but I didn’t want to look and take my eyes off the beast.

  No one really seemed to want to move forward. “Now what?” asked Joda.

  “Well, we’ve got to do it,” Hamlin said off to my right.

  Suddenly, a shout pierced the clearing. I was surprised that I noticed the shout was a clear, beautiful contralto. Why would that register with me? I looked over to see October lower her spear and start charging forward. I knew October was from the African Union, but I didn’t know her background. Was she a Maasai? I didn’t know. But she looked like one, her ebony arms holding her fragile bamboo spear, moving forward just as countless generations of Maasai warriors had charged lions. She was doing that tradition proud.

  I watched in awe as her thin legs pumped, getting her up to speed as she lunged forward. This was going to stand her in good stead with the viewers. As she reached the Hell Pig, she tried to run the spear into the pig’s eye, but the creature lowered its head, and the spear grazed harmlessly up and over its massive shoulder. Unable to stop her charge, October stumbled and fell right under the thing. It reached down with its massive jaws and bit once. October didn’t even have a chance to scream. We could hear her skull crush, and we didn’t need to feel our telltales vibrate to know she was dead.

  The Hell Pig dropped her lifeless body and glared at the rest of us. We stood there in shock for a moment, then something came over us. Like our far distant ancestors on the African plains, we felt the fury of the pack. And as they learned to drive leopards off, we too started hooting and hollering in wordless rage as we moved forward en mass.

  Whether our slight bamboo spears could really damage that walking tank or not, I don’t know. But at the moment, I wanted nothing more than to drive it deep into his belly, to pull his guts out onto the ground. And that was certainly my intention. Maybe, that porcine brain facing us could recognize unadulterated rage. Maybe it didn’t realize we couldn’t really hurt it. For whatever reason, it simply turned and ran, bolting through the underbrush. I wanted to chase it, to bring it down. But a few steps into the bushes, I realized what I was doing. My mind cleared from the rage. I stopped and hurried back.

  A St. Bernard was already trundling over to October. I was still amped, still hyped. Yash leaned back and howled at the sky, putting sound to my feelings, to all our feelings. October was dead, but we had triumphed. We had beat back the beast with our own force of will.

  Hamlin reached down and picked up the deer carcass, slinging it over his shoulder. He started walking back, and the rest of us followed. We didn’t even bother looking back at October and the St. Bernard. The field staff would evacuate her before long, and either she or Bernie would be back in time for dinner.

  Chapter 8

  “It’ll be October. It’s gotta be her. I mean, that was ballsy. What did Bernie do, I mean besides becoming a popsicle?” Our smoking team was back together, smoking deer meat, and Ratt was trying to guess who was going to come back.

  “Yea, no question. It’ll be Tobie.” Joda, evidently bored, had wandered over and agreed with Ratt.

  “Well, whoever it is, she or he better get here soon. That deer steak is looking pretty good to me.” We had saved a steak for whomever came back, and now I was eyeing it.

  “It’s rather late, already dark. I wonder what’s up,” put in Lindadawn.

  “Ah, who knows? Maybe the vote got delayed or something.” It was a little later than what would normally be expected, but I wasn’t too concerned.

  “Well, when things don’t go as routine, you know that usually means the producers have something up their sleeve.”

  “Good point. But all we can do is wait and take it up the you-know-what, whatever it is.”

  “The ‘you-know-what’ is right,” she said with a laugh. She slid up on one hip and pointed to her butt several times with an in-and-out motion. “That’s one way of putting it. Or where to put it, I might add.”

  We all laughed, but I couldn’t help but notice her butt when she did that. She didn’t have the cute factor of Joda or Ratt, and she was not the beauty that Alfhid was, but she was still attractive in her own way. And while Alfhid was feminine strength, Joda was goofy endearment, and Ratt was funny irreverence, Lindadawn was smoldering competence. I was still waiting for her to break out and take over the show. Neither Hamlin nor Josh would stand a chance against her.

  And here I was judging the girls. And not even all of them. Julie was still with us. I guess I didn’t classify her as a threat. And Borlinga, well, Borlinga was Borlinga. I wondered how the girls judged the boys, both as males and in terms of the game. Joda obviously thought the world of Hamlin, but what about the rest? And what did they think of me? Maybe I didn’t really want to know.

  And how would I fare against the other guys? Hamlin probably had a following. Josh, too. Yash was a male Ratt in some ways, maybe more physical, but as funny and outgoing. I am sure he had a viewer following. Mike was smart, but his weakness in the gravity was a hindrance. Would the viewers care?

  Tall Paul was the only guy who may not have much of a fan base. He didn’t perform poorly, but he seemed to be along for the ride. Maybe I could beat him in a vote, maybe not. It was better for me just not to get killed again if I wanted to win this.

  By then, the rest of the cast had joined us around the fire. The smoke seemed to follow me, getting into my eyes wherever I moved, so I just gave up and lay down, trying to stay under it. I didn’t say much as people chatted. Both Ratt and Yash seemed to be trying to oneupsmanship each other with better stories, and that was entertaining. If we couldn’t have holos, this was the next best thing.

  It has been a long day, and the adrenaline rush with the Hell Pig might have taken more out of me than I thought. My thoughts wandered toward huge Hell Pig pork chops as I drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 9

  “I think something’s up. It’s morning already, and still nothing.”

  I opened my eyes to see Lindadawn talking quietly to Borlinga and Mike in the faint dawn light. The rest of the cast were still sleeping scattered around the camp. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. My bladder was complaining, so I go up and went to the toilet. Coming back, I contemplated trying to fall back to sleep, but it didn’t seem worth it. I splashed some water from the spigot onto my face, wet my hands to try to get my armpits a little cleaner, then joined the other three at the firepit.

  Tearing off a piece of smoked deer, I started chewing on it. It tasted pretty good. I tore my piece in half, then half again, giving the other three a small piece of their own.

  “D
oes anyone remember if it ever took until the next day for someone to rejoin the game?” asked Lindadawn.

  “Never. I’m sure of it, “stated Mike. Borlinga agreed.

  “Every season has something, has a kicker. I just wonder what this one will be.” Mike seemed upset that he didn’t know what was going on.

  As the dawn brightened up the sky, and the camp became lighter, I listened with one ear as I looked about at the others. Hamlin and Joda were asleep against the rock wall, Hamlin spooning her with his arm over and around her front. Joda was married back on Earth, and Hamlin, while divorced, had four kids. While sleeping closely was no big deal, I wondered if their families would see that and if that would have any ramifications. Not my business, though.

  Something looked odd above them, and it took me a moment to figure it out in the dim light. Then I realized what it was. The challenge drawer was open. We hadn’t heard any theme music, and the light was not on, but the drawer was definitely open. I left the firepit and walked over. I had to step between Joda and Hamlin’s legs, eliciting a sleepy snarl from him, but I ignored him and reached inside the drawer. Sure enough, there was a message there. I pulled it out and read it.

  Paranthropus boisei and Homo hablis started making tools over 2.5 million years ago. Can you do less? Follow the marked trail to the flint beds, and if you have the same skills as our early ancestors, life will be much easier for you.

  “What is it?” Lindadawn called out.

  I walked back over to them. “I think you need to read this.” I handed over the message.

  She read it, her face furrowing in confusion. “But we haven’t had our returnee yet. And why no revelation music?” She handed the message to Mike, Borlinga crowding to look over her shoulder.

  “I think we need to wake everyone up,” she said. “Everyone, get up! Time to get up!” she shouted out. Alfhid and Ratt were sleeping by the edge of the firepit, and she nudged them with her foot. “Come one, get up,” she told them in an only slightly lowered voice. “Corter, Mike, help me get everyone up.”

  We went around waking everyone, ignoring the grumbling and requests for “just five more minutes.” Eventually, everyone realized that something was going on, so they gathered round.

  “Do I have time to pee?” asked Joda.

  Lindadawn didn’t bother to respond. Instead, she held out the message. “We don’t have our returnee yet, and now we have a new challenge.”

  “That’s impossible,” Josh said. “We would’ve heard the cues.” He looked around and back at the message wall, where the drawer was still open.

  “Nevertheless, here it is. I don’t think any cast has gone on the next challenge until the last returnee rejoined them.” She handed the message to Yash before continuing. “We all know there’s a twist in every season. This has to be ours.”

  “But why no music? How come we didn’t know the challenge was ready?” asked Julie.

  “I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Do we, you now, wait for Tobie to get back, or do we do the challenge now?” asked Joda.

  “Well, despite the fact that we don’t know if it will be October or Bernie, I think we need to do as we’re instructed.” She pointedly looked at Hamlin and Josh in turn.

  Hamlin had just finished reading the challenge and handed the message to Josh. “It looks like we’re supposed to take a little trek here. Lindadawn’s right, I think. We’ve got our challenge, and we’ve got to do it. Bernie or October will have to join us later. You agree?” He looked at Josh.

  “Yea, I guess it’s pretty clear to me.”

  Hamlin looked about, back in charge. “It’s getting pretty light, so we can leave soon. Everyone, take a piss, get some food and a drink, and let’s be ready to go in, let’s say, twenty or thirty minutes, OK?”

  I looked back at Lindadawn. For a moment, I thought I was going to see the expected explosion, the real Lindadawn coming out. I could see her start to say something, but then I could almost literally see her bite her tongue and back down.

  Joda rushed off to be the first in line for the toilet as the rest of us moved at a little slower pace. Josh and Mike moved to the side and were in quiet conversation, but the rest of us grabbed either venison or fish (or both) and ate. I went to get another drink. The water pressure on the spigot seemed less than when I’d used it earlier, but it didn’t really affect anything, I guessed.

  “The twist, you think is what?” Borlinga asked in her unique syntax. She stood by me, chewing on a piece of smoked fish.

  “I’m not sure. But as much as the fanzines revel in the twists and turns, it all really seems to be the same for the cast. Just try to stay alive. I’m not too concerned.”

  “Maybe right you are. I just can’t the direction see for this one, though.”

  Joda came out of the toilet. “Phew! It really stinks in there.” She moved her finger back and forth towards her open mouth in a gagging motion. “Somebody here must have died in there, but I don’t see any St. Bernards!”

  Yash and Ratt laughed, but I frowned. I had been the last person to use the toilet, but that had to have been thirty minutes ago by then. The exhaust vents were supposed to take care of any odors.

  It was probably more than Hamlin’s requested twenty or thirty minutes, but eventually, we were ready. Spears in hand, we crossed the bridge into Indian Country. This time, the start arrow pointed off to the left of the clearing. We got in a file and moved out. I was second in line this time, behind Paul. As point man, Paul was slow and meticulous. He was driving me a little crazy. I wanted to move on. He stopped and looked to his left, off the trail.

  Not again, I thought. What’s he up to now?

  I moved up a little closer as he used his spear to part the bushes and bent slightly over for a better look at whatever had caught his attention. I was about to tell him to move on when there was a sudden flash of something long and thin coming out of the bushes while Paul jumped back, swinging his spear down. He connected, and on the path, I could see a writhing, mortally wounded snake. I hadn’t realized that Paul’s reflexes were that quick.

  I poked at the snake, which was quickly stilling. It looked pretty nasty. Ratt crowded up behind me to get a look. I patted Paul on the shoulder. “Good job there, killer.”

  Paul looked pale. I could see the fear in his eyes.

  “Hey, it’s over. You killed it.”

  “Corter…” He suddenly sat down.

  I squatted beside him. “It’s just nerves. You’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t understand. It got me.” He pointed to his ankle. Just above his shoe were two small punctures. The skin was already turning red. My heart dropped.

  I needed Paul around. He might be the only player remaining who I could beat in a vote. But I’d like to think that what I tried was done for altruistic reasons. I bent down and put my mouth over the punctures and started sucking and spitting out like I had seen on countless holos. I could taste Paul’s coppery blood, but there was also something else, something biting.

  By now, the rest of the cast had crowded around. As I sucked, I could see in the corner of my eye someone hooking the now dead snake with a spear and fling it away into the bushes. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and Lindadawn took over for me. I was glad, because I was feeling lightheaded. Could I have ingested some of the poison?

  When Paul started going into convulsions, I think we all knew it was too late. Lindadawn kept trying until Paul’s convulsions literally threw her off him. He was screaming incoherently. At least when I died, it was fairly quick and painless. Paul was going through torture.

  Mercifully, Paul passed out. I felt for his pulse, which was reedy and weak. It wouldn’t be long now. His breathing became shallower and shallower.

  We knew how it was going to end, and we knew we had to get going. But no one wanted to be the one to say so, to look uncompassionate to the viewers. Finally, without saying a word, we got up and started off again. I led the file, anxiously looki
ng at each bush, jumping at each rustle of leaves. We had walked another 200 meters or so when our telltales buzzed. Paul was dead.

  Nothing else jumped out at us while we made our way down the trail. Something big crashed through the trees, but that was at some distance off. After about a kilometer or so, the trail opened up to a rock field coming off the hill and to a cliff face going down to what was probably the River Beagle. A green stop sign told us that this was our destination.

  I had taken a crash course in flint-knapping, but I wasn’t an expert by any means. (There wasn’t enough time from when I knew I had been selected to when I had to report in for all the useful survival courses I wanted to take.) I hoped someone else was an expert, as I wasn’t sure which rocks to select. And of course, it was Mike who seemed to know what to look for, surprise, surprise. I liked Mike, but I wondered if he was becoming a dark horse threat. He picked up a rock at the edge of the slide and showed it to us.

  “Try and get ones which look like this. This’ll be much easier to knap and give us better tools.”

  I nodded and stepped out onto the slide—and promptly fell on my butt as my feet slid out from under me. I landed painfully on a chunk of rock, but got up ruefully.

  “And as Corter has shown us, be careful. This area has to be pretty unstable.”

  All of us started carefully walking on the loose rock, mindful of the slope. I still wasn’t sure what constituted a good piece from a bad piece, but I picked up a few to bring back.

  “Look up there! Think that’s what got the first girl, Arial or whatever her name was?” Josh was pointing over at the reservation’s central peak, or Fuji-yama, as the Season One cast named it.

  I wasn’t sure what he was pointing at first, but then I saw it. A dark winged thing, like a pterosaur, was gliding up near the top of the mountain. If we could see it from here, it had to be pretty big. I felt exposed standing here in the open like this. If we could see it, could it see us? And if it was what had gotten Adrienne, then would it come after us?