Page 62 of Caveman Alien's Bride

They’re all pale and splattered with blood when they come back down.

“We can’t stop at night after this,” Korr'ax says. “They have gone to get more Krast men. We must walk to the Borok tribe without rest.”

The four men eat from the packed food, but I have no appetite and only drink a little water. This simple walk has suddenly turned ugly.

Korr’ax sends the Tretter men home. “The Krast may well be attacking the village right now. Bring the news about Vram’az’s demise.”

One of the warriors looks up at the tree where the body of the shaman is tied to the branches. “May we burn the tree, Chief? We’ll hunt a Big and get oil from it. It will not be a pyre, but it will char our dead shaman enough to keep the irox away from him.”

“If you can set it afire, then do so,” Korr’ax decides. “We must be on our way.”

We walk on, faster and less quietly. I guess the Krast can easily find out where we’re going and where they might intercept us again.

Suddenly the jungle feels full of spies and movements and evil. And not the unthinking evil of the dinosaur predators, but the calculated and intentional evil of thinking enemies.

I try to cleanse my thoughts of the fears, but the old panic is encroaching on me again. This is starting to feel like it did back on the beach.

We stop to eat again. I’m still not hungry.

Korr’ax comes in and hugs me. “These things can happen in the jungle. Men die, tribes go to war. It’s just that we sometimes forget it. Eat now, so you can walk fast and we can get home.”

I force myself to eat some of the grilled meat, and Korr’ox makes me drink two cups of frit.

“Are you at war now?” I ask.

“It appears we are at war with the Krast,” he says. “But it is possible these were just scouts acting on some kind of impulse. Still, we can’t ignore the death of Shaman Vram’az. It was an act of war.”

“You’re at war because ofme,” I state. “You should never have married me.”

“Best thing I ever did,” he says, but he doesn’t look at me. We walk on.

After many hours the sun sets and a damp, oppressive darkness settles on the jungle.

Still we walk on, just stopping once in a while for Korr’ax to give me food.

My legs are tired and my mind is dark, despite the frit. I liked Vram’az, and I’m pretty sure the reason he’s dead is me. Those Krast saw me in the village, and they must have been lying in wait ever since, waiting for a chance to snag me.

Yeah. Being one of only two women on a planet full of big, strong caveman virgins was never going to be easy. Now I have a taste of just how tough it can actually get. And I don’t think it’s over.

I spend the rest of the long night walk through the jungle worrying about myself and about Piper. What if she gets captured by someone who’s not as nice as Korr’ax? And what if the same happens to me?

Despite the constant feeding and the drinks of frit, I can barely stand on my legs when we approach the Borok village. It’s a little after sunrise. I recognize the landscape and the reed-covered gate in the distance.

But instead of calling for it to be opened, Korr’ax draws his sword, and so does Breti’ax.

“Men of Borok, war is upon you!” Korr’ax roars. “Your chief bids you to join the battle at your gates!”

He’s barely ended the call to arms when there’s a roar of voices from the jungle around us. Dozens of green-striped Krast men come running, swords bared.

Korr’ax gives me a hard shove in the back. “Run!”

I sprint towards the gate. When I’m halfway there, it opens and a half dozen orange-striped men come out, visibly confused about what’s happening.

I hear swords clanging behind me as I stumble into the village on shaking knees. Borok men are jogging towards the gate, looking sleepy and confused about what’s going on.

“Battle!” the gatekeepers yell. “War! Every man is needed!”

I stand by the log palisade and peer out the gate. Korr’ax and Breti’ax are on the way inside, along with the first men that came out of the gate. Behind them there’s a horde of Krast men, roaring and banging their swords on small, square shields.

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