Page 4 of Fall

Lenna was still lying on her back on the ground, completely helpless,completely disoriented.

She was a normal woman—a pilot and a mercenary but mostly civilized. Sheshould not be here, lost and starving on the edge of a primitive forest, aboutto be killed by an angry Neanderthal.

Her vision tunneled into precise focus, staring at the raised spear.

Then, as the Neanderthal made a sound like a roar, her instincts suddenlykicked in. Lenna pushed her body into a clumsy roll, just as the speardescended toward her chest.

The spear connected with force, driving into the dirt she’d just beenlying on. Her blood pounding in her veins, Lenna tried to focus enough to scrambleto her feet.

Before she could stand up, however, the creature pulled up its spear andthrust it at her again. She rolled once again, desperation guiding hermovements more than strategy.

She avoided the sharp point—which looked to be made out of some sort ofstone—but it snagged the side of her shirt, pinning her to the ground.

She pulled on her shirt as hard as she could, hearing the fabric rip asshe did so.

It was tearing, but not fast enough

The Neanderthal was snarling now, and it raised a fist to strike her.

Lenna tried to prepare for the blow, her mind whirling with both panicand survival instincts.

But before she felt the blow, something streaked out of the air andslammed into the Neanderthal’s back.

The creature froze momentarily with the same violent grimace on its hairyface. Then it fell forward, landing just beside Lenna with a spear in its back,one that looked a lot like the one the Neanderthal had been using.

She whimpered as she tried to pull herself away, but she was stilltrapped by her damned shirt.

Something had killed the Neanderthal before it could kill her, and shedidn’t know whether to be relieved or even more terrified.

Whoever or whatever had thrown the spear was approaching. Lenna couldhear it moving through the grass.

Then it too was looming over her.

This one looked more human, although, like the Neanderthal, it had suchlong hair and thick beard that his face was barely distinguishable. The darkeyes looked more conscious, more intelligent.

Of course, that could be Lenna’s imagination or a trick of the light, butit was reassuring nonetheless.

Getting tired of lying at the feet of various cavemen, Lenna yanked ashard as she could on her shirt.

It ripped, leaving a gaping tear from the hem to her right armpit, but atleast she was free from the Neanderthal’s spear.

She stumbled to her feet and stared at the hairy man. He, like the Neanderthal,was dressed in an animal skin tunic, although his was less coarse and lookedbetter crafted. He was taller than the Neanderthal, but he was just as dirty,sweaty, and primitive.

Plus, he didn’t smell very good.

Lenna held her torn shirt in place and demanded, “Who are you?”

He turned to look at her, as if he’d just noticed she was there. Then whatshe could see of his forehead wrinkled and he took a step closer to her.

Lenna tensed, preparing to flee. But he didn’t have a weapon in his hands,and when he reached out it wasn’t in violence.

He held her by shoulder and peered at her, obviously as curious about heras she was about him.

Feeling strangely reassured by his inquisitive inspection, Lenna didn’tresist.

She knew enough about hostile encounters to know that acting like therewas something to fear sometimescreatedsomething to fear.

The Hairy Man had very nice eyes, she couldn’t help but notice—so darkthey almost looked black, large, and almost velvety.

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