IN NATURA: a science fiction novel (ARZAT SERIES Book 2) (15 page)

CHAPTER 19

TRACKS

“Are you sure, Ara?” Tom asked. “I mean . . .”

  Ara was crouching, sniffing the air while her hands tested the ground. Her eyes were still fixed on the tracks in the mud. She remained silent for some time, as if she were pondering Tom’s question.

  “Sure about Alex or sure about the Arzat?” she finally responded.

  “Uh, I guess both.”

  “Yes, Tom Pilot,” she said, rising and pointing at the indentations, “Those are the tracks of Alex, and those are the tracks of an Arzat.”

  Tom felt his heartbeat quicken, while his mind tried to fully absorb Ara’s comment.
More Arzats? That is impossible!
he thought. As far as Tom knew, Mot and Ara were the only two Arzats left in the entire universe! But, as he continued looking at Ara, he suddenly had no doubt that
she
was absolutely sure. Obviously, Ara was just as distressed about the discovery as he was.

  He finally bent down and studied the prints himself. One was clearly a boot print. The other was much harder to discern. The imprint had filled with muddy water.

  “What are her chances, Ara?” he finally asked, fearing the answer.

  Ara was silent for a long time, obviously thinking and blocking her thoughts from him as she did so.

  “It is hard to say, Tom,” she finally replied. “The presence of other Arzats is most interesting. According to Dr. Pete, none of the rest of our clan survived. So . . . if there
are
Arzats in this new world—as we now know there most certainly must be—it is highly unlikely that they are Zanta . . . And, if they are not Zanta . . .” Ara paused, obviously blocking again.

  Pete Wilson had been the chief scientist at the Area 51 Nevada ARC unit. It was Pete who had been involved in Ara’s original extraction from the Utah project. He and his team had found and recovered twelve of the thirteen semi-frozen Arzats from the ancient caves that had been discovered during the Utah ARCs’ construction, somehow missing Mot’s location in the process. But there had been a terrible accident during the transport of the specimens back to the Nevada site and all but Ara had been destroyed.

  In the Area 51 labs, it had been Pete and his team that had inadvertently discovered that his one-and-only sixty-five-million-year-old specimen was not only intact but also alive! Once Ara had been thawed out, she and Pete had discovered that they could also communicate telepathically. Eventually, the two had become friends.

  Not much later, it was Pete who had managed to isolate the cryo-protectant molecule that had originally allowed Ara and Mot to survive their long hibernation and had provided the same formula to Alex—who had eventually been forced to use it.

  “I think what Ara is saying, Tom,” Mot gently continued for her, “is that the Arzat clans did not get along well with one another. We were most often fighting for the same resources or fighting for hunting rights. Sometimes we fought for no real reason at all, but we were almost always warring with them.”

  “Which . . .” Ara started to say, as if she had suddenly been awakened.

  “Makes them your enemies,” Tom finished her thought. It was bad enough if Arzats had taken Alex. Worse yet, it seemed, if they were natural enemies of Mot and Ara.

  Tom looked up at the two, expecting them to say something more, but they were both silent.

  “Would they have killed her right away?” he finally asked.

  Ara tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and flicked, as if she were drinking the air around her. “I do not detect the scent of blood, but I also cannot detect anything of Alex’s recent presence. If she is dead, Tom Pilot, I would say it likely did not happen here.”

  Mot was beside himself with concern but doing his best to block most of his thoughts from both Tom and his mate. What Ara had said about Alex’s prospects was the truth. Whatever had actually befallen her might indeed be “hard to say,” but Mot knew too much about Arzats and the way they functioned to seriously hope that Alex might still be alive. The rules of Arzat hunting were simple: anything breathing was potentially dangerous. Better to kill first and question later. If the Arzat hadn’t killed Alex immediately, then it would probably be soon. Ara knew this as well.

  Mot looked at the sky, which was already beginning to show the early signs of nightfall. The light had changed from pure white to yellow. Off in the distance, near the mountains, dark clouds with large white puffs on their tips had formed in a corner of the otherwise perfectly blue sky, threatening to storm. If the rains came and the Arzat had covered any significant distance with Alex, it would be almost impossible to track her. Her scent was rapidly fading as it was.

  “We must go now, Ara,” he said, still looking at the clouds.

  Ara was torn. She knew how dangerous any encounter with an unfriendly Arzat could be—and where there was one, there almost certainly would be others. Even Mot, as powerful and superb an Arzat as he was, would be no match for a group of them. To make matters worse, her mate had no weapon.

  If there was ever a time that the three of them should stay together, it was now. She was in the midst of producing an egg, and soon she would become more vulnerable. If they were smart, their best chance for survival would be to turn around and head in the opposite direction as fast as their legs could carry them.
Or,
she continued to consider—carefully blocking her thoughts from Mot and from Tom—
at least Mot and I should stay together
.

  It was not a completely malicious idea she tried to convince herself. Tom was nothing without Alex—as Ara knew she would be nothing without Mot—especially in this new world. A human like Tom might have been fine in his old life of clever tools and powerful fire sticks, but this was a different situation. This was an issue of long-term survival. Particularly since she was with child, her instincts for it could not have been more attuned to that very thing. For a moment, she sadly considered the prospect of leaving her two human friends to fend for themselves.
Yes, that is the smart thing to do,
she thought. She looked at Mot, knowing that he would never agree to it.

  Mot could not hear Ara but could imagine what she was thinking. She was smart and had been just as well trained by the Elders as he had. Mot knew he was very lucky that Ara had been the one other Zanta to survive their first hibernation. She was by far one of the smartest and most perfectly formed Arzats he had ever encountered. Instinctively, she would be thinking first and foremost about their unborn offspring. She would also be thinking that their best prospect would be to abandon Tom the Pilot and strike out on their own; that their human friends were too slow and too weak for this new world; and that the further they got from any potentially hostile Arzats the better.

  She is right, of course,
he thought.
Any Arzat that might have captured Alex was probably feasting on her by now. But, she also knows I will not give up on Alex until we determine what has happened to her. And, I would never abandon the Pilot. I already owe him one life, if not more. And, my mate—Ara, daughter of the Great Hunter Zan—knows all of that as well.

  Ara looked at Tom and then to Mot. “Mot, son of Url,” she said only to him, “you will go after Alex no matter what I say, but before you do, I insist that you eat to gain strength. In the meantime, I will find something for you to use as a weapon. Then, at first light, the Pilot and I will follow as fast as we can.”

  Mot was relieved. If Ara had insisted that he stay, he would have been forced to defy her wishes. As the male, he knew the final decision was his and his alone and that Ara would abide by it, but he also knew it was not the best prospect for the Arzats themselves.

  “But Mot, son of the Great Hunter Url,” Ara continued, “even if you find Alex alive, you must promise me that you will not confront the Arzats who took her directly if you are seriously outnumbered—which you almost certainly will be—and that you will instead wait for our arrival.”

  “Agreed, Ara. I shall wait for you if I sense any danger beyond my own abilities.”

  Ara gave Mot a long look. “Now, make us fire, Mot, son of the Great Hunter Url, and I shall go see about a weapon.”

CHAPTER 20

MAKE FIRE

Za’at carefully moved through a small grove of trees, his eyes never wavering from the four-legged creature that he had just spotted in the underbrush. The Arzats called them
ree
. The animals were much smaller than the
ungo
that they normally hunted but large enough to still make a substantial meal. Za’at was hungry again, and the delicious smell of the
uman
he was carrying was becoming too tempting. He sat the sleeping female down as gently as he could in an open area, trying purposely not to wake her. If he were lucky, she would continue to sleep until he killed the small animal and returned.

  Za’at pulled his hunting stick from its scabbard and silently moved toward the creature, careful to remain downwind of it. The animal was calmly grazing on the lower branches of a small tree and seemed quite unaware of the Arzat’s approach.

  Although he knew he was faster than a
ree,
Za’at also knew that the animals were almost equally fleet of foot and could charge into the underbrush and make pursuit extremely difficult. If he were smart—and patient—he might avoid that particular inconvenience. He stopped briefly, placing his palms to the ground, and scoured the landscape with all of his senses, checking to be sure that he hadn’t missed any of the small animal’s companions that might unexpectedly see him or smell him and spoil his hunt. There was no other movement in the area that he could detect.

  Za’at slid to his belly and crept through the grass on all fours. When he was finally within a few sticks of the grazing animal, he lunged. The
ree
flinched and jumped, its eyes rolling back in fear as it tried to dart for cover, but Za’at had correctly anticipated the creature’s first move. He easily intercepted the beast in the air with the sharp end of his killing stick, which he skillfully thrust directly into its jugular.

  The
ree
hit the ground and stumbled to its knees, bleeding profusely, and struggled to regain its feet. Before it could move, Za’at stabbed down again, pinning it to the ground. The battle was over in seconds, but Za’at stood patiently until the light of life had completely vanished from the creature’s eyes. When he was sure the animal was dead, he sheathed his hunting stick back into its scabbard and threw the carcass over his shoulders. The smell of warm blood suddenly made him ravenous.

  Normally, he would have let out a howl of triumph, but he thought better of it when he remembered his captive.
It won’t be nearly as tasty as the little uman would be, but it will do for now,
he thought, proud of his accomplishment.

  He turned and immediately headed back toward the open area where he had left the female, hoping she was still sleeping and hadn’t caused any mischief or tried to escape.

* * *

When Alex awoke she found herself lying on the ground and quite alone. She looked around and was surprised to see that there was no sign of her Arzat captor. Above her, the sky had darkened, and the faint light of stars had begun to appear in the early evening sky.

  Was it possible he had just left her abandoned in the middle of nowhere? She pushed herself halfway up and took a closer look at the surrounding area trying to get her bearings.

  She was higher up in the hills now, almost to the mountains. The Arzat had obviously carried her quite a distance while she had slept. He had left her in an open area, but there were large trees surrounding it. In the west, the sun had recently set over the vast rolling plains that they had been traversing.

  I shouldn’t have let myself fall to sleep,
she chastised herself, realizing that she would be totally guessing her way back if the Arzat had truly left her. But something told her that he hadn’t. It was as if she could sense his presence close by.

  She wanted to run, but she knew it was pointless to try unless the Arzat had indeed abandoned her or she had at least a one-hundred-mile head start. Arzats were faster than cheetahs at a sprint and could maintain a swift trot that was faster than that of a loping horse. In fact, she had personally seen Mot and Ara move so swiftly in short bursts that she could barely track them with her eyes. No, there was absolutely no way she could escape from any determined Arzat. To make matters worse—were she to try—she would now be doing so in the dark. Night was quickly coming.

  She looked around again and spotted the massive silhouette of the Arzat approaching. There appeared to be something dark draped over its shoulder.

  As he reached the clearing, Za’at was relieved to see that the
uman
was still exactly where he had left her. At least he wouldn’t have to go looking for her again. Though she had escaped before, Za’at was confident now that it was only his poor judgment that had allowed it to happen. Up here, there was very little water to cross and no other
umans
around to confuse his senses. If she had dared to wander off, he would have found her almost immediately. He also knew that if he had stopped to bind her, he might have missed his opportunity to find and kill dinner
.

  Za’at grunted at the female as he entered the open area and proudly tossed the carcass on the ground. He reached in a pocket of his scabbard and found his cutting rock, which was carefully wrapped in a small piece of animal hide. Za’at tested it and decided that it was still quite sharp. Had it not been, he would have chipped the black stone against another rock until he found a fresh edge.

  He found a suitable tree, snapped off a sapling just over the height of his head, and hung the
ree
from the splintered branch by its hindquarters. He then proceeded to methodically and expertly gut and skin the small animal. When he found the animal’s liver, he bit off a piece and savored it as he finished cleaning and skinning the rest of the carcass, keeping a wary eye on the
uman
as he did so.

  “I hope you know how to make fire, little
uman
,” he said aloud in Arzat to the female, his hands busy and his mouth still half full of the animal’s liver.

  Alex had watched every move the Arzat made with her natural scientific curiosity. He had carefully made incisions in each of the deer’s hind legs and hung the carcass on the sharp end of a broken tree limb as easily as if he were skewering a marshmallow. His knife was a hand-sized chip of black rock that looked like obsidian, which he had retrieved from a pocket in his leather scabbard. The rock, she noted, had been further wrapped in another small piece of soft leather.

  Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Alex recalled a tribe from Africa that she had studied as an undergrad that butchered its kills in a very similar way.
What was the damn name of that tribe
, she tried to remember. Simon would know. The use of obsidian was interesting as well. Alex could only remember ever finding it in the very southern most parts of Utah.

  Alex, you should be thinking about how to get out of this mess,
she could hear her father suddenly saying.
Not about African tribes, and certainly not about obsidian! You’re lucky that is not you that is hanging from that tree right now, and it might be you shortly unless you come up with something!

  Tom and the Arzats will find me soon,
she answered the ghostly voice of her father.

  In fact—
that
—she suddenly realized, was her entire plan. Tom, Mot, and Ara would rescue her. She knew that Tom and Mot would never give up looking for her and that both of the Arzats were superb trackers. Yes,
they
would find her and
they
would rescue her. But what about Ara, she asked herself. If Ara were smart and she realized there were other Arzats around . . .

  Perhaps old Simon is right,
Alex thought after she considered Ara’s potential position on the matter for a few more moments. Yes, perhaps a plan “B” is in order. Then, the Arzat had spoken. What was that he had said? Something about fire?

  “Quit daydreaming, Alex!”

  Alex had been carefully blocking. Until and unless Tom and her Arzats found her, she knew that possibly her only hope of survival would be to determine what the Arzat had in mind for her
before
he took action. She had been thinking so hard and blocking that she had missed what he had said.

  “Pay attention, Alex.  This is your life
.”

  Now is the test,
Za’at thought, eyeballing the female, anxious to see if he would prove himself right in his thinking.
Now we will find out if this little uman can make fire.

  He set about locating some dry wood at the edge of the clearing, glancing back at the female from time to time. When he had gathered an armload, he walked to where she was seated and dumped it on the ground in a pile. He then squatted in front of her.

  “Now, make fire. Cook,” he uttered simply in the guttural hiss that was so characteristic of the Arzat language. Za’at pointed at the deer carcass swaying in the tree. “Eat?”

  Alex felt her heart quicken. She was struggling to block. The Arzat was staring her down with his blood-red eyes as if he were trying to read her thoughts. Alex had clearly heard and understood him, a fact that she still found amazing despite her experience with Mot and Ara. She was dumbfounded and the look apparently showed on her face.

  “Fire. Make fire!” the Arzat repeated, moving closer to Alex without rising and only by rocking his feet forward side to side in a duck walk, his blood-red eyes scrutinizing her closely, his toenails biting into the ground.

  Alex recoiled, fighting to keep her mind in check. To her ears, the sound of his voice was guttural and nonsensical. To her mind, the meaning of the spoken sounds was perfectly clear.

  “Fire, you make?”

  The Arzat was getting frustrated. Now it was a question.
I cannot reveal myself,
she thought, desperately blocking.

  The Arzat glared at her again with his strange, elongated pupils and pointed to the wood. Alex met his eyes but forced herself to remain perfectly still, even though she felt as if the giant would strike her at any moment.

  Finally, he rose, turned, and walked off a few paces, kicking out at a loose branch that was lying on the ground as if it were in his way. Alex watched him closely, wondering what would come next.

  Why doesn’t he just make the fucking fire himself,
she thought.

  Because he can’t, Alex,
the words of her father whispered in her head.
He doesn’t know how!