Human (40 page)

As the dawn sun broke the canopy, Neil was waiting. Not stretched in his usual discomfort in the spiky hollow, but hidden, with his back pressed to a tree on the far side of the river.
Their side.
Minutes felt like hours.
She was late.
He knew he didn’t have much time. If the redhead took too long bathing they would come looking for her; the pregnant one, the old man or the scarred hunter. A biting chill quickened his senses and he wondered if he had chosen the one morning she was not going to show.
Rustle. Snap.
Neil quietly exhaled, releasing the tension from his lungs.
It's not murder.

The redhead stepped out of the trees and crossed the narrow river bank. The rocky ledge she always swam from curved the river at its closest point to the trees, an advantage he planned to make good use of. Hidden only meters away, he watched her through foliage, cradling the hollowed dalunut shell in his hands.
It's self-preservation.

The redhead dropped a handful of fruit onto the grass. She lay a soapy bone plate on the flattest rock and stretched her arms towards the sky, breathing deeply. Her body was pale and lithe and he realised he would actually miss watching her.
Pity it came to this.
Neil tried to calm the rush of adrenaline that gripped him as the woman shook her red hair out of a long plait and dropped her hide skirt and stained singlet onto the grass. She stepped into the water, shivering and sinking low. She pulled her underwear off and washed it, leaving it on the stone to dry, rubbing the remainder of the soapy pulp across her body and into her hair.
A bloody waste really.
Languidly, she pushed off from the bank, red ribbons of hair trailing on the water’s surface.

Neil sprung to his feet. Making sure she was still swimming toward the opposite bank, he ducked the few paces left toward her clothes.
Immeasurable benefits,
he recited.
Kill one to save many.
With steady hands Neil pulled a large wad of compacted grass from the opening of the Dalunut. He pulled the hide skirt towards him, tipping the imprisoned spider onto its folds. With quick fingers, he trapped it again under layers of fabric. Her fingers would find it first. He backed to the safety of shadows.

The minutes ticked by. Neil held his jaw in his hand, breathing deeply. A steely determination crept into his heart and radiated, outwards through his veins. It was almost
too
simple. Once he had the stone he could walk away, no one would follow; no one even knew he was there. He fingered the shape of the sharpened stone blade in his pocket.
Just in case it takes too long.

Kill her to save myself…
Neil almost relaxed as she spun in the water, swimming back toward the bank. She pulled on her underwear, squeezing water from her now dark hair. Her face lit up as she stepped out of the water. Her porcelain skin was covered in goose-flesh and her eyes looked unnaturally bright.

“Hello there,” she said, taking a step toward her clothes. She crouched, reaching out her hand. “I was hoping you'd be here.”

Neil's breath shuddered at the sound of her voice, so close and clear. He stiffened his neck against the rising urge to come forward.
I’m not a coward. It's her or me.
He sank into the shadow, resentful of the feeling.
No one has to know.

Pick up the clothes.
He willed for the end of it. The part where he could walk away and prove them wrong.

Instead she picked up a small piece of fruit, rolling it across the grass. The oversized rat appeared from its hollow and darted across the grass to her. It took the round fruit, nibbling. She rolled it another one, closer to her. Then another.
Pick up the god damned clothes.
Instead, again she offered more fruit, this time from her outstretched hand. The vermin crept forward inch by inch and devoured each morsel it was offered until there were none left. She petted its fur.

“Sorry little one, all gone,” she said. “I’ll bring more tomorrow.”

No. You won't.

Still crouching on the grass, the redhead’s fingertips sought her clothes. She pushed her hand under, scooping the fabric up to her chest, making to stand. Neil caught his breath as a black shadow passed beneath her fingers. Like lightning the rat pounced forward. The woman fell sprawling back onto the grass.

“What the-?” the redhead laughed.

The rat snatched the spider in nimble fingers, turning and crunching it between oversized hypsodont teeth, its venom given no chance to save it. Predator turned prey.

Fuck!
Steel cold anger pricked at the pores in Neil’s skin. He pushed his jaws together, grinding his fury into silence. The redhead kept laughing, oblivious to her narrow escape.

“Still hungry, hey?” she said aloud. “Sorry sweetie, I didn’t mean to steal your breakfast.” She pulled herself up from the grass, leaving the rat to finish its meal. Wrapping her hide skirt around her waist and singlet over her head, she bent one last time to smooth its fur. “Till tomorrow, little one. You be good.” The redhead stepped lightly back into the forest and disappeared, very much alive.

Seething, Neil stepped out onto the grass.

“You stupid little
bastard
.” His sharpened stick pierced the marsupial’s neck. It hung twitching from the shaft as Neil held it up to his face. “You just cost me a great deal, rat.” Neil’s voice was barely controlled. “You stupid, fucking ugly bastard. You know what you are now, huh? What you just made yourself?
Dinner
.”

Leaves rustled behind him and Neil spun around.
Fuck!
His knees buckled to the ground. The chimp was behind him. Watching.

Its thin lips were pulled tight and it stared, unflinching, straight into Neil’s eyes. His scalp crawled in fear. The animal was bigger than he’d expected. It looked strong. Its body was tense with arms and legs coiled like a spring ready to be released. Neil scrambled back, stumbling and falling against the tree.

The beast didn’t move. It just stared menacingly, standing on two legs. It slowly opened its mouth drawing pale lips across its teeth.
It's threatening me.
Time slowed and Neil’s instincts pounded through him.
It's just an animal. Fight it. Kill it now.
He squeezed the rat tight, slowly pulling the stick from its corpse. The chimpanzee lifted its chin. Its dark eyes bore into Neil’s own and he suddenly realised his entire morning’s actions had been witnessed by the animal.

No! It’s just a fucking monkey. It doesn't know anything.
Neil choked on his own lie. The intelligence in its eyes was more frightening than its bestiality. The animal was suddenly not looking at him, but more… into him.
Almost like it knows… What I tried to do, how I failed. That I have to try again… I have to.

Neil’s heart thundered in his ribcage. The rat was clenched against his shirt and a trickle of blood found its way down the valleys of his hand.
It knows.

Deliberately, the chimpanzee turned away. With one swift move, it was gone.

In the dead of night, Ivy woke in a cold sweat. Muffled cries and whispers echoed through the cave and a strange low hum seemed to hang in the air. Ivy sat up and her eyes adjusted to the faint glow of coals flickering as figures moved in front of hearths. The cries became louder for a moment and then softened again under whispers. A disturbed child was hushed back to sleep nearby. Ivy pulled herself up from the sleeping mat and felt her way gingerly along the cave wall.

“Shahn… Shahn.” Her whisper came louder than she intended in the dark. Xiou’s face appeared in front of her and Ivy crouched down with her amulet wrist extended. In the coal-light, Xiou’s scars looked frightening. If she hadn’t known the gentle heart that beat beneath them, she might have run.

“Something’s wrong,” Ivy said. It wasn’t a question.

Xiou looked hesitantly in the direction of the disturbance. “Shimma is giving birth,” he said.

Ivy’s throat seemed to close over. Births were dangerous, now more than ever. Her senses heightened against the pitch dark and she realized the atmosphere was thick with collective anxiety. The shadow grip of the Slow Death was threatening them tonight. Miscarriages, stillborns and complications of childbirth were all too familiar - the hobbits’ future was being stolen with their most vulnerable.

“Where’s Shahn?” Ivy asked.

“Helping Lahstri prepare the medicines,” Xiou replied. “The birth is not going well.”

Please, no. Not Shimma too,
Ivy thought. In her quiet way, Shimma had been one of the first to make Ivy feel welcome. She was all soft smiles and tinkling laughter and had taken it upon herself to gather the additional food that Kyah preferred to eat, along with her own family’s requirements each day. By that gesture, more than any other, Ivy counted her as a close friend.
Please let them survive,
she found herself repeating.

The groans on the opposite side of the cave grew louder again and the low hum rose in intensity. Ivy squeezed her eyes shut, listening.
Of course. They’re voices.
Each had a slightly different pitch, and unlike their dusk song, each voice sounded distinctly male. Each man seemed to be at his own hearth, keeping vigil by glowing coals with a soft, low monotone.

“They're singing to
aneirlah,
the life energy,” Xiou explained, “to call the child out safely and to give strength to Shimma while she labours. It’s all we can offer.” Xiou’s brow was deeply ridged and Ivy knew he was dreading Shahn's impending birth as well.

“Shahn will be fine, Xiou. And Shimma too,” Ivy said. She gently pressed her forehead to his in the dark. “They’re strong women.”

Xiou exhaled. “They are, you’re right,” he said. “But somehow I don't think either of us will sleep any more tonight. Shahn needs more water from the river; let’s go together.”

Ivy nodded gratefully, glad for the distraction. She looked tentatively at Trahg still sleeping near her feet.

“He’ll be fine,” Xiou said. “Leihna will comfort him if he wakes.”

Ivy looked toward Leihna’s sleeping mat and was surprised to find her sitting wide awake with a grim smile that ghosted in the dark. The girl was no stranger to death. Nestled in her arms was a sleeping toddler, curled into a snug ball of hide covers. Ivy guessed the boy must be Dalu, Shimma’s first born. Ivy smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Please let them survive.

Ivy picked her way to the front of the cave, where Xiou lit a torch. They descended into the crisp night air.

The night was alive with rustling marsupials and chirping insects. The waxing quarter moon broke weakly through the topmost layer of foliage, drawing more darkness underneath. Giant tree ferns dominated the path. Green branches and shoots mirrored underneath by fallen dried brown ones, still attached to the black trunks. They stood in sharp relief in the fiery torchlight, one inverted triangle on another’s point, with a flowing gown of crinkly sharp leaves below to balance the soft spray above.

The breeze carried a trace of citrus scent. She took a deep breath, stilling her nerves.
Please let them survive
.

Ivy stepped into the shallows of the river, filling one of the large bladders Xiou had brought with him. Her toes curled around smooth pebbles and chilled water swirled at her calves. Shadows touched her ankles and fallen leaves twirled on the black surface, catching on needles dripping from overhead branches as they spun downstream. The night forest was beautiful.
Please let them survive,
Ivy continued her mantra as they returned to the cave.

Dousing the torch, Ivy followed Xiou back into the cave. Shimma was circled by women at her hearth. She rested her hands on her engorged belly, lost in concentration and pain. An older woman moved around her, anticipating each shift of weight. It was Shimma’s mother Bosxoi, a smaller than usual hobbit with peppered grey hair and a soft body. Her face was a web of worry as she held hides warmed with hot stones to Shimma’s lower back and whispered soothing words under her breath. The pregnant woman moved constantly; rocking, bending and squatting with eyes squeezed shut.

In the darkness, Shimma’s mate Raspik watched with concerned eyes. At Xiou’s approach, Raspik took the water bladder. A deep bowl sat beside the fire in a hollow, supported by a ring of small rocks. It was made from a circular piece of hide, stiff and moulded through repeated use. The rim was supported by a pliable willow switch and hemmed with a threaded strip of hide to keep it together. Raspik poured water into the bowl and picked up three igneous rocks from the ashes with a bone trowel. Gently shaking the ash away, he dropped them into the pot with a hiss. Within a few minutes the water was boiling. Raspik knelt by his mate and whispered words of encouragement. Shimma acknowledged him for a moment with a weak smile, and then winced again lost in her contraction. Her agony was mirrored in Raspik’s eyes; of no help to her, he would fret until it was done.

“Come Raspik, have a drink.” Xiou led Raspik away and Ivy turned to follow. Shahn caught her wrist.

“Stay Hiranah. It’s a woman’s duty to support a sister during childbirth.”