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| Zabar |
“Sure, I’m all right, let’s get going.”
The gallant youth took no more than five steps before falling flat on his face. Paul rushed to his downed competitor and flipped him over on his back. A trickle of blood flowed from Greg’s nose, thanks to the fall, and his forehead was beaded with sweat. The bitten man’s facilities had been reduced to a semi-conscious state, and he babbled incoherently when trying to talk.
Paul removed his helpless partner’s bulky weapons, canteen, and pouch; then dragged him to the trunk of a massive forest giant. Almost in an uncontrolled panic, he soaked Greg’s headband in the cool river water and replaced it. Fighting to control the rapidly rising fear, the hunter began to think about his options. He figured if Greg survived at all it would be tomorrow, at the earliest, before they could even attempt to return to the fort. He also theorized a search party would be sent after them at first light, but surviving the night was going to be a big problem.
With this thought in mind, plans for protection raced through the newly determined man’s head. His angular jaw raised confidently as he began to recollect Will’s teachings. Glowering truculently and working hastily, Paul went about collecting wood to feed a huge fire all through the night. When this laborious task was completed, he then set about sharpening thick stakes and driving them into the ground at a slant, points facing the forest.
After building the best barricade he could with the tools and materials on hand, Paul gathered a small supply of fruits for supper. The swarthy youth refilled the canteens with freshly boiled water, then increased his defense by storing a pile of small river rocks next to the firewood. Once these things were completed, there was nothing left to do but watch Greg fight the fever and suffer.
As far as medical care went, Paul knew nothing except to keep the headband soaked in cool water and to keep the patient as still as possible. Helplessly, he watched as Greg’s head rolled from one side to another. A shuddering gasp swept over the caretaker’s strong frame as a hideously hypnotized stare assailed his poisoned friend. The sick hunter’s eyes were beginning to look like those of a mad dog, and foam was developing upon his lips.
Without warning, a soul-wrenching scream escaped the sick man’s lips, as his fingers spasmodically clawed at the grass. The unexpectedness sent Paul’s heart jumping into his throat, and he felt a crawl of the flesh along his spine. A chill crept through his veins as other grotesque screams followed. The screams were so ghastly the watcher’s hair bristled, for they sounded as if they came from damned souls in hell.
He had to restrain a cry of terror from his own lips as Greg, gagging and frothing at the mouth, began clawing horribly at the air with groping hands. Half-crazed with fear himself, Paul realized he had to tie his partner down so he would not hurt himself. Tearing strips from his own clothing, the desperate man quickly formed make-do thongs. Luckily by the time they were completed Greg’s violence had faltered somewhat. Still, his bounding was no easy task.
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| Greg Vancover |
Feeling a little light-headed, Greg heard his companion ask if he was ok.
“Sure, I’m all right, let’s get going.”
Suddenly the long-haired youth’s body began to tingle all over, and the world began to spin in slow circles. Greg was aware that he was still walking, but he had lost all mental control over the facilities. Oddly, his mind now seemed separated from his body, the letter merely a shell used for transportation, and the source of his thoughts was his actual self.
A weightless feeling began to overwhelm him, but Greg felt no pain of any kind. The slow circling increased to a rapid spin, and the poisoned man could retain his balance no longer. Heavily, he fell face-first to the ground. The actual fall was a very unforgettable experience for the hunter, for it seemed he fell forever. Much like one of his rare dreams, he thought to himself. Unlike his dreams, however, this falling did cease, and he came to a sashing halt.
If you have ever hit your elbow or funny bone as it is sometimes called, and you had a shocking sensation, then you have experienced the feeling Greg felt over his entire body. The pain, lasting only seconds, was very agonizing and its passing left him in a virtually paralyzed state.
Unable to move under his own power, Greg remained motionless, face down in the dirt. He was nowhere near aware of the goings-on, and his disordered mind was still trying to grasp the situation when Paul turned him over onto his back. To the bitten hunter it seemed someone had suddenly turned on a floodlight of kaleidoscope colors. Tainted eyes tried to focus on his surroundings, but the billions of brilliant colors made it nearly impossible.
The poisoned man could hear Paul blurting out questions, but his mind only vaguely understood them. His partner sounded as if he were far away, and his voice echoed like he was shouting from within a cave. The delirious youth tried to answer his friend, but talking was a great effort, and it seemed so unimportant.
Finally giving up, the distempered hunter relaxed and stared somberly at the spectacular color formations swirling this way and that. Often it seemed his mind attempted to leave his body to float among them, but Greg fearfully fought back the urge. After what seemed days to the spider-bit youth, the mass of colors slowly dwindled enough so that he could reasonably make out solid objects. His conception was still topsy-turvy, but he was slowly beginning to collect some understanding.
Then, to the distraught man’s dismay, he began to experience mind-shattering hallucinations. While peering into the fire that his colleague had just constructed, Greg imagined the flames to take the form of some animate and evil entity. Suddenly, he let out a scream of stark terror as the arms of a flame shot from it and engulfed him. Wildly, he clawed and shrieked in frantic flight. Then, as precipitous as the attack, the apparition vanished.
After somewhat regaining his shaken sanity, the noxious hunter was mindful of Paul’s presence beside him. Dizzily, he tried to comprehend what was going on. While he yet thought, the long-haired youth became aware of a restricted feeling that he had not noticed before. Instinctively Greg offered slight resistance, but the main ebb of his strength had long been exhausted.
All the surrounding trees and shrubs had suddenly begun to take on a limited amount of sinister movement. Although remaining implanted in the ground, their limbs and branches changed into long lashing tentacles. Hideously, they motioned for Greg to come within grasping branches. In a violent panic, the flabbergasted youth fought the overpowering pulling sensation that had overcome him. Even as he struggled, the limbs changed into a nest of snakes, coiling, and uncoiling.
“I have to remember not to be afraid. Just hallucinating. Bit by a spider. Don’t be afraid. Just hallucinating.” Little chopped-up sentences ran through the youth’s mind as fast as electricity runs through light wires.
Minutes turned into hours as the hunter’s numbed mind continuously battled for clarity. By late afternoon, he still had not mastered the poison's effect. During those passing hours, Greg’s eyes visualized things his mind had never conceived, not even in dreams.
Numerous philosophical questions were approached upon a previously unobtainable level. Because of this, the answers came out unique and unpredictable. Oddly, not once during the extraordinary ordeal did the young man think about dying.
Finally, Unium’s very brief but spectacular sunset occurred. On this day, however, the two earthmen missed its fabulous splendor, for the towering leafy giants blocked their view. Even though Paul could not see the inspiring view, he knew it was that time of day, for the forest had already become a misty twilight place of dark shadows and dim vistas. Nervously anticipating the night, he silently watched as the last tinge of dusk faded into pitch darkness. The only exception to this total blackness was the light cast by their small fire.
The coming night seemed to bring on a surge of strength to the spider’s poisonous effect, for Greg’s violent struggle increased somewhat. The long-haired youth had by now grown quite accustomed to the strange visions, though, and he fared little or no worse than before. The dark had limited the other hunter’s camp mobility, so he contented himself with tending to his delirious friend. At the same time, he alertly kept watching for any dangerous night prowlers that might be attracted by their fire.
When two hours passed, the first of Unium’s moons appeared on the horizon. As it majestically rose into the sky, the coal blackness gave way to the shining rays of the golden orb. Although the forest floor was not illuminated enough by the moon’s filtering rays to suit a human’s dull eyes, there was indeed enough light for the keen-eyed predators who lived there. As the mighty beasts rose from their secret lairs, various forms of warnings were issued, and silently they set out in search of the game.
Several times during the long, lingering night Paul was forced to cast stones and branches of fire at some beastly hunter who approached dangerously close to camp. Numerous unidentified creatures’ glowing eyes could often be seen within their spear range, but fortunately, the fire kept them from coming any closer. Still, the fear of an assault was so horrifying it was almost nerve-shattering. The lone defender was well aware of his all but nonexistent chance should one of the giant cats decide to attack.
Without closing an eye Paul, nevertheless, stood guard through the passing of both moons and through the two hours of blackness that preceded light. Luck was with the men on this journey, for no beast of prey decided to challenge the fire, which spread terror even to their mighty hearts. Just as the crack of dawn approached, the weary sentry stoked up the protective blaze and chanced a quick nap.
When he woke, the slightly refreshed hunter quickly discovered he had slept much later than he had intended. Making a quick check, Paul discovered his bound partner was in the same pitiful shape he had been in since lunch the previous day. The distraught man knew a search party would be sent after them at first light, but he also knew they were much deeper in the forest than they were supposed to be. Laura’s newer patron decided not to take a chance of being missed. If the rescue team did not arrive shortly after breakfast, he and Greg would head back upstream and meet them. No way could his nerves survive another godforsaken night in such a loathsome place.
Not having the best of luck, Paul finally managed to capture a brightly colored fish in a shallow bend. It took the woodman only moments to clean his catch, and shortly a delightful aroma filled the morning air. Along with various nuts, the hot fish made a tasty breakfast, which amply satisfied his growling belly. Although the chef made several attempts, he could still not get his sick friend to eat.
Once the morning meal was out of the way, Greg’s partner busily went about collecting materials to form a transportation device. It was all too evident his poisoned comrade was in no shape to walk, and he was much too huge to carry. Therefore, a hammock seemed the smaller man’s best bet.
After the primitive device was completed, his third project was cleaning up the campsite so no unexpected traveler would suspect their presence. Making sure the fire was completely out, Paul buried the ashes and all other waste. Carefully he concealed his handiwork with a covering of dead leaves and branches, a trick taught to them by Will so that no passing traveler would ever know that anyone had been there.
This practice was one of the basics the professional hunter had taught his students from day one. It had been drummed into each man’s head that it was of the utmost importance for them to discover humanity before it discovered them. There was no guarantee that the first contacted humans would be civilized or friendly. In such an out-of-the-way place, there might even be a chance that they could be cannibals.
By the time all camp-break activities were carried out and the men ready to set out for Fort America, morning had slipped into noon. While Paul was in the act of loosening his sick comrade, he caught sight of some tasty fruit on a nearby tree. Breakfast had pretty well digested by now, so the hunter decided to quickly gather a few for trail snacks. Giving up momentarily on one particularly stubborn knot, the young man hastily searched the surroundings for any prowling predators. Finding none, the satisfied youth made his way to the fruit tree with a tune playing upon his lips.
Although he had searched the area well, a sly beast that was a master at hiding escaped his detection. The peering eyes from behind cover patiently watched as the more active of the two unusual creatures left the other. The hidden observer seemed to sense the creature that remained was helpless and its easiest prey. Bravely, the stalker crept toward its unsuspecting victim.
With a silent snarl, the unseen beast crept closer and closer to the half-bound man. The noiseless carnivore (Bar-do) resembled a wolf, but like most Unium creatures there were as many differences as there were similarities. The dog-like titan stood waist-high, its mouth filled with two rolls of long sharp teeth. Instead of paws like earth dogs, this horror had claws like a bear. Its lean, hardened flesh was covered with a shaggy brown coat filled with black spots.
When Greg’s dilated eyes focused on the advancing canine, a chill crept through his veins. Thanks to his previous hallucinations, though, he could not decide if the beast was real or unreal. Questionably, the helpless man silently watched the pitiless transgressor.
“Do not be afraid. Just hallucinating. Bit by a spider. Not real. Just imagination. Do not be afraid. Do not fight the fear,” he mumbled to himself.
The ferocious dog, just a few feet from its kill, moved forward with uncertainty with its mouth gaped wide. Cautious eyes nervously scanned the surroundings for a trap. Ominously, a low growl rumbled in the frightful beast’s throat. Deciding there was no trickery, the gigantic-pawed creature placed himself into a charging position. With one loud merciless roar, it shot toward the halfbound man with the speed of an arrow.
The canine’s bestial clamor attracted Paul’s attention, who by this time was midway up the fruit tree. The dismayed hunter caught a glimpse of the scene through parted limbs.
“Christ, what have I done?”
Upon first glance, he instantly realized there would not be enough time for him to reach his confederate before the attacker. His only hope would be to save his friend from death, or at least to avenge it. Dropping what fruit, he had collected the audacious young man climbed recklessly from his lofty perch. The way he bounced off limbs one could not tell if the youth was climbing or falling, but still, his progress was pitifully slow compared to that of the charging wolf-like creature.
Still undetermined whether the beast confronting him was real or imagined, Greg decided to play one of his newly formed games. After his many hours of continuous hallucinating, the poisoned hunter had discovered it was far better for him to bravely confront his startling apparitions than it was for him to struggle against them in a mad panic. In almost all cases it seemed the apparitions vanished faster and were not nearly as scary. Due to this discovery, it became the tactful youth’s practice to challenge each horrid spectacle with an aggressive attitude instead of a timid one.
As the killer dog bore down upon him the partially bound man did not immobilize with fear as he most likely would have done had he retained full control of his facilities. Believing the attack to be merely the prefabrication of his mind, Greg faced the wolf-like beast with courage befitting a hero. Hardly had the creature committed itself to a charge before it realized the intended prey was not as helpless as first thought.
With an answering growl almost as brutish as the invader’s, the semi-bound madman struggled with the remaining bonds to reach his antagonist. The sudden show of viciousness unnerved the wily carnivore and it checked its advance.
This deed in itself was not a complete act of fear on the dog’s part. In the animal world, there are no doctors. Therefore, successful hunting means more than just making a kill. One must make a kill without receiving harm to one’s own self. A severe wound most of the time is the same as death, or even worse. If one cannot hunt or defend oneself, one does not last long in a world of predators.
While half climbing and half tumbling down the tree, Paul had heard a second beast’s growl, but he was too busy dodging branches to see what new horror had joined the melee. By the time he reached the ground both his clothes and skin were badly battered. The gallant youth was covered with numerous bruises and scratches, but these he did not feel. His mind was on nothing but revenge.
As the scuffed man’s eyes grasped the situation, he was amazed to find that Greg was still alive. He was even further astounded to discover that his dismal colleague was the second growling beast. The barbarous sounds that were still issuing from his throat sent chills up to Paul’s spine. Not pausing for a second more, the frenzied youth ran full speed toward the dueling pair.
The distance that lay between him and the fighters was still too great for any real hopes of rescue. Feeling quite helpless, the approaching runner screamed and shouted at the top of his lungs, trying to distract the ravenous dog from its victim. This did not have the desired effect, however. Instead, the bear-pawed hunk realized it had two enemies to face instead of one. Instinctively, the beast concluded it could no longer act cautiously. It had to make a kill while the two-legged creatures were yet split. With a deafening roar, the determined desperado made a second charge. This time nothing short of death would suppress its assault.
While running, Paul pulled an arrow from his quiver and notched it in his bow. When he saw the wild dog prepare to charge, he stopped and took aim. The distance was not overly great, but the pessimistic man was no mean marksman. Still, it was Greg’s only chance. Trembling, the desperate hunter released the wooden shaft.
Almost instantly, the disheartened man realized the shaft was off. The arrow went high and to the right of the now-springing target. Haplessly, he watched as the colossal-pawed carnivore made a catapulting charge toward its still growling and snarling victim. There was not enough time for another shot. Stunned, Paul could do nothing but run on and attempt to avenge his companion’s death.
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| Pioneers On Unium |
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| Exiled On Unium |
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