Page 55 of Caveman Alien's Touch

“But right when they were about to spot me, their friends arrived from the other direction, and they forgot about the sound they heard,” I explain. “They stood and talked for a while, and the Small went back into the jungle. So I thought I’d go home to the camp. But the shortest way was across a swamp that I didn’t know. I wanted to walk around it, but then I saw a fire and I wanted to see who it was.”

“It was us!” Trat concludes in triumph.

I put more wood on the fire. “Exactly. But I didn’t know that until I had come closer and I heard you. I did wonder what you were doing here.”

“How far are we from land?” Bronwen asks, looking in the direction I came from.

“One long jump and you’ll be back in the jungle,” I chuckle. “But this is a good choice for a campsite. Most Bigs don’t want to come here.”

“And how far are we from the camp?”

“Further than that. Not quite a half day’s walk. We can stay here until right before sunrise, but I want to get back to the camp. We must try to move it before the outcasts can attack.”

“What did they say?” Bronwen asks, licking the inside of a drap shell.

“They said they will find the camp and attack it,” I sum up. “They don’t like having us live nearby. I think they also want to show strength, and force the Borok tribe to give them food in exchange for not bothering the tribe.”

“Korr’ax would never do that,” Bronwen scoffs. “He’ll chase them down and kill them.”

I’m not nearly as sure about that. “Maybe. There is one outcast who thinks it may work. And he seems to be powerful in their gang.”

We talk a little more until Trat’s head starts dipping.

“If we’re going to sleep tonight, we should do it now,” I decide. “Trat, just lie down. I will wake you.”

The boy curls up with his back to the fire, facing the swamp.

Bronwen lies down on the grass with her head in my lap. She struggles to get comfortable there, because there’s something in my shorts that keeps twitching and doesn’t give her head a flat place to lie.

She gives me a mischievous look. “It’s not easy to sleep now.”

“It’s really not,” I sigh in frustration. “There are so many things I want to do.”

“I know how you feel,” she whispers and rubs the back of her head on the hard bulge beneath it. “You want to fight a swarm.”

“No,” I tell her softly. “That’s not what I want.”

She grins up at me. “You want to make a new spear.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my old one.”

Her eyes glitter in the light from the fire. “You want to kill a rekh with your bare hands.”

I stiffen and a coldness goes through me. What does she know about that? “Trat told you?”

“I not know you could do that.”

“I got lucky.”

“The same way you got lucky with the irox?”

I look away. “Something like that.”

She checks that Trat is still facing away from us, takes my hand, and unceremoniously puts it on her chest. “We must be quiet.”

I squeeze her softness through the alien fabric. “You went looking for me.”

“I was worried.” Bronwen sighs quietly. “You were gone all night.”

---