Page 63 of Caveman Alien's Touch

Until I turn around and look behind us. There are men not far away. Two of them.

I stand still, and Dexer is so accustomed to being led in the woods that he freezes in place.

The men take two more steps, then stop. I can’t hear them, but Iseethem as fuzzy shapes, brighter than the jungle around us.

I think they’re following us. And here I am, alone with blind Dexer who can’t fight at all. This could get dangerous.

“We are being followed,” I whisper into Dexer’s ear. “Two men. We must hide.”

The jungle is dim, but it never gets completely dark. Those two men may well be able to spot us unless we get behind a tree.

The terrain is difficult, but dense undergrowth and tall bushes are ahead of us. I see a tall tree with a thick trunk that we should be able to hide behind. To get there, we have to be nimble and slide right between two tall thorn bushes.

I don’t have to tell Dexer to be careful as I turn sideways and slowly make my way past the bushes. Still holding his hand, I gently pull him through the opening. He’s ripped by two thorns as long as my thumb, but doesn’t make a sound.

I pull him towards the tree, then stop as I spot more men ahead. And to the sides. We’re in the middle of a wide circle of warriors, but they can’t see us yet.

“Be as quiet as you can,” I tell Dexer unnecessarily as I tiptoe towards the tree.

The ground gives way under me, and my body reacts by itself, slamming my spear into the ground and scrambling to crawl out before I’ve even started falling. But Dexer is behind me, still moving, and I’m pushed into the hole, having to let go of the spear. Dexer falls with me, and we land at the bottom of a deep pit.

I’m immediately on my feet, ignoring the pain from one leg as I jump as high as I can and claw desperately at the loose walls of the pit. I try again and again, roaring with frustration and anger.

“We fell in a pit trap!” I tell Dexer. “I’m trying to get out.”

“Will you need my knife?”

I calm myself. The pit is too deep to jump out of, and the dirt isn’t firm enough to hold my fingertips or my toes when I try to climb. “Maybe.”

Dexer stiffens. “There’s someone up there.”

I hear the voices too.

Then I see a head coming into view, looking down in the pit. “Ah. A half-Big and his friend!”

That’s the voice I recognized before. And that means this wasn’t just any trap. This trap was meant for me.

“Better a half-Big than an honorless outcast!” I yell.

“Oh, but I’m not an outcast,” Unin’iz says. “I’m dead, didn’t you hear?”

“If the Borok tribe didn’t think you were dead,” I growl, “they would have cast you out for trying to kill me during that peaceful game of penk. Chief Korr’ax himself said so. Borok men saw you slashing your sword at me, Unin’iz! After I saved your life in the quicksand!”

More faces peer into the pit. “Is it him? The Big?”

“The half-Big,” Unin’iz grunts. “And another Foundling.”

“Young?” asks another.

“Too big to be a boy,” another outcast says. “But I suppose he could be tender enough.”

“Adult Foundlings are too stringy.”

“Be quiet,” Unin’iz orders, and to my surprise the outcasts go silent. “Eat that grub we have if you’re so hungry. These are not to be eaten.”

I hear the baby-like sound in the background. That must be the grub they used to lure us here. And we fell for it, even when they carried it along with them to get us far away from the camp.

I regret my first outburst. I’m not in a position of strength. “Get us out of here, and I shall talk to Chief Korr’ax,” I call to Unin’iz. “He may allow you back into the tribe.”

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