Page 49 of Caveman Alien's Touch

I let them talk while I slowly crawl backwards. I don’t like what they said about meeting more outcasts here. I might get surprised by a new group of them.

But it’s not them that surprises me. It’s a Small, a black one with brown stripes on its hard shell, long antennas and twenty thin legs. It comes wandering and it must see me with one of its myriad of eyes, because it starts hissing viciously, antennas waving. It’s only as big as a man lying down, so not big enough to be a real problem for me. If it hadn’t been for that loud hissing.

“What’s that?” an outcast says, and I hear swords being drawn.

I look around for a place to hide. There’s only the bush, and beyond that are the outcasts.

The Small keeps hissing.

I clench my hand around my spear. It will be difficult to get away from this. But I have surprise at my side. At least I will take one of those men with me.

17

- Bronwen-

I clench my knife and stand still, ready to bolt if this is anything other than what it seems like

The boy comes out of the bushes, showing me his hands are empty. “I’m a Foundling, Woman Bronwen. I saw you leave the camp. But it’s dangerous to be alone here.”

I look him up and down. He’s a scrawny caveman kid of maybe ten, dirty and scruffy as they all are. His loincloth is loose and only held up by the shoulder strap. Under his arm he clenches a spear like Noker’s, except shorter.

One of his feet is bare, and the other is thickly wrapped in unspeakably dirty dinosaur skins. He limps when he comes towards me, slowly and carefully.

“Who sent you?” I ask with suspicion. “This is dangerous for boys, too.”

“Nobody sent me,” he says. “Brother Sprisk turned his back, and I snuck away.”

I sigh and put the knife back in its sheath. “So now I have to protect you, too.”

“No,” he says eagerly. “I’ll protectyou, Woman Bronwen! Look!”

He shows me his spear, which is short and has a flint head on it, not steel. But it looks sharp.

“Even Noker can barely protect woman in the jungle, clansbrother. And you not even reached the Stripening.”

“I’mgood,” he says, miffed in the way only a child can be. “I’m the best hunter of all the boys. Brak himself said it!”

“Damn,” I mutter in English. “This is just what I need.What’s your name?” I continue in the caveman language.

“I’m Trat, Woman Bronwen.”

“Trat, the first thing you do is not call me ‘woman’. ‘Bronwen’ is fine. The second thing is go straight back to the camp. Sprisk needs help with the hunting when Noker and Brak are away.”

“I helped him all day yesterday,” Trat says, bright eyes wide. “There’s no need to hunt today. We have enough. And Noker brought a big pack of food from the Borok tribe!”

I look nervously around. We shouldn’t be talking at all. “You have answer for everything, Trat. When did you leave the camp?”

“Right after you did, Wom— Bronwen.”

“So you don’t know if Noker come back there now?”

“No.”

I close my eyes for a moment. Things weren’t great before, but now having to babysit a boy has made them worse. What I have to do is make my way back to the camp and hope that Noker is there.

I sigh again. It might not be too bad. He’s probably home now, and the boy can keep me company.

“All right, Trat. Let’s go back home.”

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