Second Chances (13 page)

Her eyes flashed, one hand on the gun she carried on her hip. “Try it,” she whispered softly. “I
dare
you,” she snarled, lip curling in her rage. Sal put his hands up and backed off. Darion's eyes were wide.

He froze, staring at her. “Isn't anyone going to do anything?” he demanded. Cliff and the others looked uncomfortably away when Ginger turned her glower on them. “Someone should do something! I was looking forward to eating that!” Kevin said.

“Go hungry,” Ginger snarled. She stood there smoldering as the pig blackened and burned up.

She was even angrier when Bert came in with a pair of kills the next day. “So?” Kevin asked insolently. She shook, eyes flashing. He smirked at her until he realized she still had her pistol on her hip. Trisha took the woman by the shoulders and led her away.

“Way to go, Kev. You almost became the first homicide here,” Darion growled. “Twice. I suggest you make yourself scarce for a while,” he warned. Sal nodded emphatically.

“Who the hell asked you,” Kevin snarled as he stormed off. He kicked at a rock, then kept going as Bert looked up from the noise. His stomach growled, but he ignored it.

“Boy needs a father figure, someone to set him straight,” he murmured, cleaning his gun.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

John, Bert, Emilio, and Darion killed a strange creature just before dawn one morning. They'd headed out early before the sun had risen to try to catch something or get a lead on the herd. Bert had startled it; his bright floodlight flashlight had blinded it long enough for him to get a kill shot off. When they examined it, they found it was a cross between a shark and a dog. It had a hammerhead, with a shark's crescent mouth underneath the barbells, filled with rows of triangular teeth. It was a purplish black with raspy shark skin. It was lean with a greyhound physique, claws and a shark's tail. They called it a shark hound for obvious reasons.

“You think this is what's been keeping the herds at bay?” John asked, indicating the predator. “We thought we were blessed that they were avoiding the farm fields. Now I'm wondering about that,” he said.

Bert grunted. “What else is this crazy mixed-up world going to dream up for us?” Bert said, thoroughly disgusted. He kept a wary eye on the surrounding area, ever concerned about more showing up. After all, where there was one, there could be two. Or dozens, he thought darkly. He could have sworn there had been others ahead of this one, slinking in the shadows. He may have picked off the rear guard. He turned to see east. The sun wasn't quite up yet, but the horizon was aglow with pretty oranges and yellows. Most likely the thing was nocturnal, he thought.

“The great white hunter doesn't like the selection?” Darion teased as Emilio poked the gill slits with a stick, then checked out the leg and tail structure. He looked over to Bert. Bert had the butt of his rifle on his right thigh, his right foot elevated on a rock. He had sunglasses on, and his hunting vest. With his camo hunting cap and pants on he looked every inch a proper hunter.

“I don't mind the food chain. I'm just not thrilled about my place in it right now,” Bert admitted, keeping vigilant. John nodded.

“It's got four legs. But it's not from Earth; that much is obvious. Another world?” Emilio asked, looking up to them.

Bert cocked his head and then shrugged. Emilio's French accent was rapidly degrading as he spent more time talking with Darion and other people. “He's right,” Bert said. “Two, four, six...it's symmetrical,” he said.

“So, we've got animals from Earth, maybe the six-leggers from here, and now them?”

“Why not? Who's to say they just relocated one world's species to this planet? Why not a lot of them?” Darion asked.

“I'm starting to feel like we're in a big zoo. And someone's not only watching, they're laughing,” Bert grumbled.

“I'd like them to throw popcorn, but something tells me there is a really big “don't feed the animals” sign somewhere,” John said. Bert snorted. “Let's get this thing dressed. We can use the skin and of course the meat,” he said. Bert and Darion nodded.

Darion covered his nose though. “It smells like rotten fish. Are you sure?”

“You don't waste meat,” Bert said.

“Unless it's one of those Bolladon critters,” John teased. Bert grunted but got to work.

They gutted the creature carefully, noting the shark skin. Then the hauled it back to base. “Shark fin soup anyone?” Darion teased.

~~~~~~(@)~~~~~~

Nine weeks after they started the breeding project, they were inundated with newborn puppies, rabbits and kittens. The two stillborn animals were fed to the dogs. Quincy oversaw each birth. He happily announced that after a check, the mares were definitely pregnant. Trisha snorted as he pulled the long plastic sleeve off, then carefully washed it. “Yeah, they were a bit put out about your methods though, Doc,” she teased, waving a hand to Alley, who still had her ears back and was as far away from them as the corral would allow.

“What'd he do?” Denise asked innocently.

“Um, never mind,” Trisha said as Quincy coughed into his fist. Quickly the adults changed the subject.

Some of the animals were designated to other people, bartered long before they had been born. A few people were put out when they realized they were being held to their promises.

There was one bit of good news though. They had been stunned by how fast the fruit, berries and nuts grew in the forest. John was careful to avoid cutting them down, though a few would-be lumberjacks made mistakes. The plants they weren't absolutely sure about they tested by feeding it to the animals. Earth plants they recognized were judged okay.

Others they were not sure about, but John noted dinos eating certain ones. They harvested what they could reach. They still tested the foods they weren't sure about on the goat. “It's a goat; it'll eat anything,” Adam said dismissively. “So we're really not learning much.”

“Yeah, well, if it grows a third eye, extra legs, barfs or keels over, we'll know something right?”

“Yeah...but it could be like mushrooms. They could worm their way into the brain and take time for the poison to set in.”

“You are so full of helpful thoughts these days,” Trisha sighed. He spread his hands. She shooed him off to the forge.

They were surprised a week later when the remaining fruit and nuts dropped off the trees on their own and then more blossoms formed a couple days after that. All the flowers were swarmed by the local pollinators, aliens and bees. The fruit that had dropped was picked up by the grazers.

“This is wild, isn't it? What do you think is going on?”

“Not a clue,” Bert said, shrugging.

“I think it's the alien plants...but also the way this planet is,” Eric said slowly. His wife frowned thoughtfully. “I mean, we should be entering late summer right? And from the looks of things we're still in midsummer, maybe early summer.”

“I wish we knew more about this planet,” Carlene sighed. “The alien plants, the continents...just knowing where we are!” She said, getting upset. “Where the others are!” She threw her hands out. “We know they are out there somewhere, right?”

“If they are still alive,” Cliff said darkly.

“We don't have a large measuring stick to compare this planet to, other than Earth. But we can infer a few things,” John said. Guy nodded.

The experts judged they were not in an equatorial location; most likely they were in a latitude between a tropic and an arctic one. They were closer to a pole, but not too close. The weather was too warm, and the plants were too lush. Near the Arctic Circle on Earth it was more tundra than jungle/forest.

John thought that they were in a northern polar climate similar to Canada based on his observations of the night sky.

“So...do you think they dropped us on a continent roughly in the same place where we started from?” Bert asked. “Somehow that doesn't sound right,” he said shaking his head.

“No,” Carlene said. “Cliff and I were in Seattle. I know John was in Alaska. Victor was in the Yukon, and other people were scattered all over North America. The Saitos were in Japan. They clustered us together.”

“But we're in a similar climate. At least to some degree,” Bert said. “I remember seeing snow in the shadows of various places, caves, rocks, and under trees when we first arrived.”

“I think you're right, Bert,” Earl said gruffly. “But for all we know, they could have moved us through time, or this could all be a virtual reality thing,” he said.

“Spare me from the Matrix,” Bert said sighing. Earl snorted.

“They could have made this planet,” Cliff said thoughtfully. Bert stared at him, taking his glasses off. Cliff shrugged. “Unfortunately, we don't know.”

“We may never know,” Bert said. “So let's move on,” he said. “We've got some interesting things we've learned about the predators,” he said.

“Oh?” Quincy asked.

Bert explained that the death of the raptor pack and young Rex had altered the territorial lines around them. Other predators were filling in the blanks slowly, but some of the herds had possibly altered their habits as well. “See, it's hard for us; we don't see the barriers.”

“Barriers?” Darion asked, wrinkling his nose.

“That's right,” Bert said, tapping his nose. “You've got it right there. We don't have the sense of keen smell they do. Animals mark their territories in different way. Scent marking it with glands or their piss or scat. But they also claw trees and vocalize.”

“The caws the raptors made? Or that whistle one?”

“Yes. I'm betting it will be a little while before another pack moves in. But we'll have to be wary. I haven't seen any bear, cat or wolf sign.”

“Are you kidding me? Even a grizzly wouldn't stick around a raptor pack,” John said with a snort. Bert grunted.

Chapter 8

Miranda, Sophia, and Trisha got their heads together. The men were wary when the trio approached them. All three were drop-dead gorgeous in painted on jeans and blouse shirts knotted at their waists. Trisha had rolled-up sleeves; most likely she was wearing one of her hubby's shirts. John had to remind himself that she was taken. “We were thinking,” Trisha said when they were a few yards away. She stopped, hands in her back pockets.

John looked at the others and winced theatrically. “I think we're in trouble,” he said, sotto voice to them. Bert snorted. Cliff shook his head wryly. Darion sighed, taking a seat on the bumper.

“It's not bad,” Sophia said hastily.

“Definitely in trouble,” Cliff said to the other men.

“What? It'll help us all,” Miranda said, annoyed.

“Definitely,” Bert said. Darion fought a laugh, shaking his head. Bert frowned, crossing his arms as the three women glowered. “To cut this short, why don't you spit it out ladies?”

“It's like this. We've only got so many animals right? But there is a world of them out there, all for the taking,” Sophia said.

“I thought that's what we were doing?” Bert asked, pulling his sunglasses off to clean them with his shirt tail. “I mean, I've been bringing in the meat, I thought they were animals...”

Sophia rolled her eyes to Miranda. “I told you they'd be difficult.”

“Dense you mean,” Miranda said, crossing her arms and tapping her toes in her annoyance.

“No, we just smell more work for us. Dangerous work,” John said, getting a clue about what they were hinting at. It all came together rather neatly he thought. He had to admit, it was the next logical step though. “Very dangerous work if I'm thinking of what you've got in mind. You know it's easier to kill something than catch it alive, right?” he asked, looking at Miranda, then Trisha. “You are a cowgirl. Part time, but a cowgirl.”

“Yeah, I've wrangled a few calves in rodeos as a kid,” Trisha admitted. “How hard can a dino be? It's like an overgrown chicken!”

“Ever chased a chicken?” John asked, snorting. “You women like to think up these plans, but don't think it through. How complicated it is, how dangerous. And what we do with them once we've caught them. How do you expect to handle a dino? It's not like a horse; you want one of them stepping on you? Kicking? No one ever plans that part out,” he said shaking his head.

“Well, that we'll leave to you,” Sophia said sweetly as the trio turned about. “Ta ta boys,” she said waving a bye with her fingers and then walking off with a hip bump. The other two girls were with her.

John shook his head. “Yeah, just dump it in our laps,” he said to the others. He looked over to Bert who was looking amused but thoughtful. “You aren't serious Bert!” he said. He glanced at Cliff. Cliff too was thoughtful, rubbing his chin. He scratched at his head.

“Why not?” Bert asked as Cliff chuckled. “I've been bored, I could use a challenge. And we could learn a thing or two about them. I'm telling you, we've got to live more off the land, learn to integrate ourselves into our new environment,” he said. Cliff sighed.

“Great, ropes, barn, bolo? This is getting complicated,” John said.

“I'll ask Loni. She's a cowgirl, a career cowgirl I mean. She may have some ideas,” Darion said, getting up and leaving at a trot.

“Yeah, you do that,” John muttered.