Aurora Wolf

TREE LINE

By Christine Rains

Purl dove for the hand still visible above the white sand. Her fingers did not manage to catch a firm hold before it was sucked downwards. She heard a helpless scream and realized it was coming from between her own cracked lips. Fine grains flew up to pollute her mouth as another tentacle burst upwards to latch onto her wrist.

She felt Mirage grab her around her small waist and yank her backwards. She dug her sharp nails into the slick appendage, and it loosened its hold enough so that she could free herself. The two of them tumbled over backwards and down the small hill.

Her body ached, but her tears came from the pain in her heart. Purl curled up against Mirage and cried for the loss of her brother. His muscled arms embraced her with a tenderness one wouldn’t expect from a man that looked like him.

“Hush, woman. You’ll be okay.”

Purl shook her head and pressed her face to his bare chest. Her hands balled up in fists to beat against him. “Jerboa went onto the sand because of me. Me!”

She hadn’t been thinking. She had been playing with little Coati, trying to show him how to throw his boomerang. It was his favorite toy. It only skittered a body’s length out onto the sand.  She could jump that distance back to safety.

The others in their pack crept out from the trees, but did not move farther than a body’s length from their shelter. Children whimpered and many of the women wept. A few of them held open their arms, beckoning to the pair to come into the trees.

Purl continued to cry. She hadn’t been thinking, and it cost her Jerboa.

“Jerboa knew what he was doing and he did as he intended: he saved you.” Mirage stroked her shaved head. His thick fingers followed the one thin dark braid down.

The sound of young ones crying reminded her that she had only given birth once. The child hadn’t survived, but she had many precious years ahead of her to provide for the pack. Jerboa had known her value, and he had sacrificed himself for her. Though she understood the reason why, it did not make the pain and the guilt easier to bear.

* * * *

The morning came on with a bright fierceness. Purl held vigil for Jerboa throughout the night, but the sun signaled her mourning was over. It wasn’t nearly enough for her, but daylight wasn’t to be wasted. She sucked back her remaining tears and ate the first meal of the day with the rest of the pack.

The group huddled with her treated her as if she were a fragile thing. They didn’t think her strong enough to even bury the cores from her fruit. A child had done that for her. Purl bore their treatment with silent irritation. She shouldered two large waterskins to show that she was able to do her share of the work this day.

“Let me take those for you.” A female with three braids and a new growing bump in her belly ran a hand over Purl’s head. “The children want your company and stories today.”

“You cannot do this work, Cascade, and you know so. The children can wait for their stories.” Purl forced a grateful smile to the surface and bent to kiss Cascade’s small swollen belly. She didn’t wait for any further response, but turned on her heels and walked west to follow a line of men and able women towards the water’s edge.

It took the whole morning to reach the edge of the forest which fell off into the sea. Purl swiped the sweat from her forehead and squatted by the tree line as a half dozen of the men readied the poles to dip the skins down in the water. No one dared to move nearer to the water’s edge. The creatures of the sea were more monstrous than those of the desert. The pack had no choice but to live sandwiched between the two and pray there were no floods or sandstorms.

Mirage came up behind her and crouched down so that his legs were on either side of her body. “I will help you with your skins. The water is choppy today.”

Purl peered over her shoulder at him and smiled. She appreciated the help and the fact that he didn’t try to take her work from her. There was also a physical thrill having him so close to her like this. He had started to court her a week before, and Jerboa had encouraged her to accept him. She would honor her brother’s wish, and if she bore a son, she would name the child for him. “May we do it first before the sun gets too hot in the sky?”

The large man nodded and rubbed his cheek against the back of her head before standing. “You may go first on the pole I have set.”

Though she knew Mirage was giving her special treatment, it was different than how the others had done so. His intentions flattered and excited her. Purl stood and slipped the skins off her shoulders as she approached the long dipping pole. She securely tied the first skin to it and stood back to take the handle. Mirage positioned himself behind her as an anchor.

“Ready for the first one.” She gave him the warning and began to lower it down into the sea. Her heart raced with the danger of what they did, but it was essential to their survival.

The skin sank into the water, and the pole bent as it filled. Purl said nothing as they worked. None of the pack on the poles uttered a word. She lifted it with a grunt and was glad for Mirage’s muscles. He took on the bulk of the lifting and they hefted the full skin upwards, setting it down so that she could tie it closed.

She set it back in the trees and knotted the second skin to the pole. “Ready for number two.” She nipped her lower lip as they lowered it down. She leaned back as it filled and felt Mirage’s chest against her back. A small smile quirked up her lips, but it was suddenly yanked away as she felt extra weight on the pole.

“Up!  Up!” Mirage clenched his jaw as he pulled up on the pole in hopes they wouldn’t lose it. Down the line of dippers, there was another harsh cry to yank up.

Purl dug her heels in and used added her strength to Mirage’s as they lifted the skin out of the water. A small sea beast clung to the full sack and had pierced it with its beak. It still attacked even though it wasn’t finding any meat to soothe its voracious appetite.

Three men in loincloths stood near with spears, and as the skin was brought closer with its passenger, they struck out at it. Its tentacles were no more than four feet long, but it managed to catch one of the weapons and tried to yank the man towards it. One of the others lurched in and drove his spear through its conical body. It hissed and thrashed, releasing both skin and weapon. Its fate now was no other than to feed the pack.

There were more screams from down the line. A bigger monster had taken hold of another pole. Five hunters tried to pull it free, but a thick tentacle lashed out from the water to grab hold of the head man, Oryx, as well as the wood. Blades gleamed under the sun and slashed at the slimy appendage.

Purl couldn’t help there. She was too petite to be a hunter. Once the skin had been set on the ground, Mirage dashed over to help his pack mates as she used a blob of tree gum from a pouch she carried to seal the hole in her waterskin. She dragged it over to the tree line.

The beast that had latched onto her skin was no longer moving. It was deflated and its tentacles curled up along side of it. It was a baby compared to the monster still battling for its prize. When she saw it rear out of the water for a brief moment, it was twenty times the size of the dead one. It could eat a man whole.

She shuddered, remembering Jerboa disappearing beneath the sand last night. Did he suffocate first or did he feel himself being ripped into pieces? She choked back her tears, not wanting to think about it, but not being able to stop herself.

There was a triumphant cry as the men fell back with Oryx still in their midst. The pole and skin were lost, but their pack mate was saved. They retreated with great haste into the tree line as two more tentacles searched along the shore for their prey. A few of the pack growled with the desire for battle, but there could be no victory against a monster that large. They would have to be content with the smaller one still impaled on the spear.

Once the sea creature disappeared into the water, the pack traveled south against the water current. They finished their water collection a good distance away from the previous site before heading back to the village. There was great excitement when Oryx came back with a tale of survival and the feast of the beast.

The water was delivered into the ancient geothermal desalinators and more recently converted seawater greenhouses. Purl had been fascinated with the great kettles since she was a little girl, and she had helped with the design of the greenhouses to grow food the pack needed instead of having to forage far for them. She didn’t have the skills or physique to be a hunter, but her mind was of great worth to the pack.

The feast was prepared and there was a celebration of life that night. Purl felt the sharp contrast to the previous night, but it was not one of bitterness. Her guilt still nagged at her, but she did her best to ignore it. She had to carry on and not give in to her sorrow.

The Elders led the pack in song and there was the call for one of her stories. The children still awake piped up and pleaded with Purl to tell them one. Since she had denied them earlier in the day, she took up a spot by the Elders around the bonfire. She smoothed her hands down over her short hide skirt. She cleared her voice and there was silence.

“Humans were born of the earth. They rose from the mud as small, weak creatures, but soon grew strong. They learned to walk on two legs to reach up to the trees and pick the juiciest of fruits. They had not claws or beaks like other beings, but they had keen minds. What their bodies could not do, they built tools to do the work for them.

“Humans expanded their knowledge, learning great things. The tools they built grew in size, too. They had immense villages and could travel the sea in a day. They stretched their arms from coast to coast of all the lands in the world. They took up the earth and the sea for themselves. They claimed their dominion over it.”

Her voice took on an ominous tone. “They eventually forgot they were of the earth. They believed themselves greater than it. The earth and the sea – who had always fought against one another – whispered together. They would be destroyed by the humans if they continued to take from them. They could not allow such a terrible thing to happen.

“The earth and sea trembled with their rage. The deserts grew and buried the fertile lands. The sea spread and swallowed whole civilizations. As the humans had spread their arms across the world, the earth and sea created their own hunters to stretch out and reclaim their domain. Millions of humans perished and those that survived were left with only tiny strips of forest to hide within.

“We still hide, caught between the earth’s and the sea’s rage. As long as we do not extend our reach beyond our given strip, they will not claim us as they have the rest of the world. Our ancestors’ greed had lost them their lives, but we will not repeat their mistakes. We will take care of the little we are given and we shall not stretch our arms beyond our village.

“One day, the earth and sea will forgive us. Their rage will not last forever. Until then, we use our arms only to work and embrace one another. This is the lesson we have learned.”

Children stared up at her with wide enraptured eyes and adults nodded along with her telling. A few of the men raised their mugs to toast Purl and her story. It was the oldest tale of the pack and the one most retold. None of them must ever forget.

She retook her seat on a log and the singing resumed. A few of her pack mates came up and told her how much they liked her telling. Children were carried off to their beds and the moon rose higher in the sky.

“Bed with me tonight, lovely storyteller.”  Mirage’s breath was hot against the back of her neck. She hadn’t noticed he had crouched down behind her.

“I don’t know,” Purl teased in a whisper. “I’m fair tired after my telling and hauling water around today.”

His big hand crept around her waist and tugged her back against him. “I have my own story I want to share, but only you are meant to hear it.” The tip of his nose ran along the outer shell of her ear, and it sent delightful shivers through her body.

“Then take me to hear this story. I’m curious as to what a brave hunter like you might have to tell.” Purl was led away from the bonfire and to his hut. The story he told her had no words, but he made impressive use of his mouth. They fell asleep curled together long after the moon had reached its peak in the sky.

* * * *

Mirage woke her with his lusty appetite that left her pleasantly sore between the legs. Before he left the hut to start his day’s work, he kissed her flat stomach.

“What are you doing?” Purl giggled from the feeling of his whiskers. “You cannot know if there’s a child for you to greet.”

“I know.” His dark eyes flashed along with his grin. “My seed has been planted within you and you will ensure it will grow. I have seen the wonders you do, woman.”

She flushed and sent him on his way. Purl scraped off the night’s sweat and went about her own work tending to the immense kettles. Their ancestors were brilliant to be able to build such things. It had taken her years to learn how to keep the desalinators working. Humans no longer had the tools to build such things any more. If the kettles were to break and they could not repair them, they would have to rely on the water provided by the greenhouses and there was not nearly as much produced by them.

Purl did her rounds with the kettles and before she could head towards the greenhouses, two children ran up to her. Sand Cat grabbed her hand and jerked on it. “You have to come right now, Purl. There’s something in the house of beans!”

Whorl was two years older than the boy, but she was trembling. “Please. You must hurry.”

“Go fetch some hunters.” Purl told the bushy haired boy. He sprinted off and she took up the girl’s thin hand. “Come. We can’t lose this crop when it is so close to harvest.”

The pair ran along the worn path and passed six other long buildings before they came to the one that housed the beans.  A crowd of women and children stood out front. Only three of the young women without any braids held spears as they stood guard by the door.

“Purl!” Cascade held her eldest child against her.

Purl released the girl’s hand and put a comforting hand on her shorn head. “Tell me.”

“Something broke in through a window on the side. None of use seen the thing, but it sounds like a warpig.” Cascade moaned with that possibility.

“We heard it snorting!” One of the older boys piped up.

Nipping her lower lip, Purl nodded and stepped up to the door to peer in through the glass. Several tables were knocked over and there was a rustling of plants near the rear of the greenhouse. “Warpigs are stupid. We can frighten it out of there.” She gestured to the trio with the spears. “You come with me. The rest of you go to the other buildings and make sure everything is secure. It will be safer for you there, too.”

No one questioned her. Purl had not seen many years, but she was wise. The majority of the group hurried away and she took a deep breath. With a silent motion, she opened the door and reached in to grab a spade. It would do as well as any of the spears. She did not plan on killing the warpig. They were rare in the forest and she’d rather chase it off so it could go on its way than kill it.

There was a round of snorting from the back as the animal found something succulent to eat. Purl used her hands to command the other women, indicating two go along one side and she would go with the third along the other. They would herd the warpig up the middle and through the door.

The mist in the greenhouse already coated her with a shimmering layer. Trickles of sweat ran down her back to mingle with it. Purl moved with care over the fallen tables and damaged plants. Most could be saved, but they had to rid themselves of their unwanted guest first.

As they neared the rear of the greenhouse, she could see a rounded spiky back. It was no doubt a warpig and one that came to just below her waist. None of them wanted to be near the beast, but it would be more afraid of them than they were of it. Purl looked across to the other two women and counted with her fingers.

At three, they hollered at the animal and startled it into flight. It veered to one side and upon seeing the spears, dashed to the other side. It nearly ran into the head of the spade, but it turned in time to run forward. The women ran after it, shrieking and barking. More damage was done with the warpig’s retreat than it had upon entering.

It swerved towards the left corner where the irrigation pipes came together. Purl shouted out a protest, but the warpig could not understand her. It smashed through the pipes and out through the glass of the side. A length of flexible piping was caught around its fat neck and the fleeing animal dragged it with it as it ran.

“Stop it!  The pipe cannot be replaced!” Purl was already running out the door after it.

The warpig’s fear gave it a boost of speed. It raced to the east, to the desert. Purl’s heart threatened to jump out of her chest. She could not lose that piping and she continued to chase after it even when the other women had stopped.

Behind her, she could hear something larger crashing through the woods. “Purl!  Purl!”

She recognized Mirage’s voice, but did not stop. The trees thinned out to nothing and there were only scrubby bushes between them and the sands. “We have to catch it! I need the piping!”

The fleeing animal ran out onto the white sand. It stumbled but picked itself up to continue onwards. It was slowed by the desert and Purl managed to close some distance. Mirage’s longer legs let him catch up to her.

“Let the beast go!”

“No! I need that piping.” She protested, speeding out into the desert.

Mirage growled with his anger and scooped her up over his shoulder. He darted back to the safety of the trees. He held her even as she fought against him. “Calm down, woman. Once the warpig realizes it isn’t being chased, it will discover where it is and flee back here to the trees. We will get your piping then.”

Purl ceased her struggling and nodded. She hadn’t been thinking. It would have been like the day she lost Jerboa. She was breathing heavily as he placed her down on her feet. They crouched down and watched the warpig from the cover of the trees. Mirage pointed to the animal, showing her that it had slowed and regained some of its senses. It made an alarmed squealing noise and hurried back towards the tree line.

She grinned up at him and gripped her spade tighter. He was the hunter, but she would help as needed. Mirage chuckled under his breath and gave her rear a pat before readying himself to strike out at the animal.

Before the warpig could get as far as the bushes, two brown tentacles burst out of the sand on either side of it.  They couldn’t get a hold at first, but they tripped it and as it rolled with a terrified screech, one of the appendages wrapped around it. The animal was lost, and Purl would have let that be if it weren’t for one thing.

“The piping!” She burst forward with plans on hooking the piping with her spade. Her stomach trembled with the memory of Jerboa being pulled under. She whimpered, but she couldn’t let the pack suffer for lack of food.

Mirage snarled and sprinted after her. His speed carried him past her and he thrust out with his spear to try to get the piping. He stabbed the warpig and slashed one of the tentacles. Blood gushed out and made the sand clump together in gory red chunks.

Another tentacle erupted from the sand and twined around his thick calf. Mirage’s spear was stuck between the ribs of the warpig and he could not pull it out while maintaining his balance. Purl felt tears burn her eyes and ran up to whack at the tentacle that held him. It didn’t loosen its grip, but the sand creature did pull the squealing beast under.

Mirage dove to one side, ripping the piping from around the warpig before it disappeared. He was flat on his stomach and tried to find traction with his one free hand. He held out the piping to her. “Take it!  Run!”

“No! Mirage!” She beat at the tentacle again, but the skin was too hard and it had a firm hold on its prey. Instead of taking the piping, she dropped her spade and locked her hands around his wrist to pull him with all her might.

The bulbous head of the sand creature crested the surface, but it found a new hold and yanked on Mirage. Hunters threw spears from the tree line, but none of them found their target. His leg was sinking downwards and Purl screamed her protest.

“Let go!” He bellowed.

“NO!” Purl could not stand to lose him after Jerboa gave his life for hers.

Mirage ripped his arm free of her hold and pushed her back so she stumbled into the bushes. She screamed again as he was sucked further into the desert. She had not seen him pick up the spade, but it was in his hands and as his body went into the sands, he plunged the tool downwards with a  fearsome cry.

The spade vanished, but Mirage did not. He scrambled out of the hole and rolled into the brush next to her. He didn’t stop, but gathered her up and sped back to the tree line. Over his shoulder, Purl could see the piping laying on the sand undisturbed.

“The-”

Mirage silenced her with a kiss. “We’ll go fishing for it later, woman.”