A change of scenery II
Disclaimer: captain Ryan and Helen belong to Impossible Pictures™. Everyone else is mine.
Late Cretaceous, 75 MYA
To Jenny's surprise, neither Helen nor Ryan appeared to be particularly disturbed to be trapped in the era of the dinosaurs (the teens' behavior could be explained by their lack of the English language): Helen calmly removed her bolt from the smaller meat-eater, while Ryan eyed the knife-shaped lump of rust with some interest.
"Fascinating," he said after several minutes of silence. "This is either Bowie or some other sort of a combat knife – probably yours," he turned to Jenny. "Ours are of a somewhat different shape...though it is hard to say, considering that it has almost fallen apart from the rust..."
"People, are you insane? We're trapped in a world of dinosaurs!" Jenny began again.
"We know!" Helen shot crossly back. "Ryan, what are they doing to the fox?"
"Looks like they're playing with it," Ryan evenly replied.
"Ah. Anyways, Jenny, look." Helen pointed back up the mountain slope, where the time anomaly appeared once again. "This sort of time anomaly tends to steadily blink on and off for a very long period of time, so if you want to go back to the Ice Age, we can do that. You brought us here, it is your call."
"I just wanted to go home," Jenny said weakly.
"And so you did. We are back in the States, just, you know, 75 or 70 MYA in the past. Now what?"
"Oh." Jenny thought about it. "Can we find another time anomaly back in the Ice Age? The mammoths are closer to us than the dinosaurs, right?"
"Of course," Helen nodded placidly. "So, we're leaving?"
"Yes."
And so they did.
/
Pleistocene, 30,000 years ago
The first thing that hit Jenny (and the others) that the air temperature did not differ all that much between the late Cretaceous (that is what Helen called that time period) and the Ice Age. "But of course," Helen shrugged, when Ryan pointed this out. "The Ice Ages came and went; this isn't the first or the last one of them. Shall we go south?"
"And how do we know where the south is?" Ryan said rather snappily. "You don't have a compass, do you?"
Helen just pointed upwards, where a flock of either geese or large ducks was flying – obviously away from the North Pole and the north in general.
"Oh, okay then."
And the mismatched quintet followed the flock of geese.
Several minutes later, when the time anomaly that led to the Cretaceous North America opened up once again, several more people came out of it. They looked at the ground, searching for the tracks of the quintet, and eventually they found them.
And then they followed them.
/
Several days have passed. The weather was still sunny, but it was growing steadily colder: the sun still emitted plenty of light, but less and less heat. It was a good thing that Jenny had fired her Mossberg only once back in the Cretaceous – Ryan had spent the rest of the ammunition on a herd of the local antelopes in order to acquire their meat, and more importantly, their hides and fur.
Admittedly, Helen again had to do most of the tailoring (and not just because she had the initial supply of needles and thread), but this time, the teenage girl (whose name was apparently Hella or Hellas), tentatively joined in, while the others dismembered the antelopes, smoked or roasted their meat, removed the tendons (to be used as extra threads later), and generally made themselves useful.
All in all, though Jenny's Mossberg was rendered useless (at least until they acquired new ammo for it), the quintet did acquire four antelopes of various ages, and that proved more than enough supply for all of them, even the Arctic fox (which decided to stay with them after the brief trip to the Cretaceous), at least for a while.
It also cost them about 3 days to be done with the antelopes as well, and that considering that only two of them were fully grown, and another one was really just a calf: by the time they were done everyone had a new respect for their ancestors' way of life – and, apparently, Helen.
"Not really, no," the time traveller confessed. "Only when I can't help it... which happened more often in the past than it does now."
And then they restarted their travels.
/
Several days later (without the modern watches or calendars time was treated rather differently here) the quintet began to witness other signs of them moving in the right direction – i.e. south: other people, native to this time period. Admittedly, they were a bit shorter in height than the adults in the quintet were, (and maybe that is why they kept their distance), but otherwise they could have easily fit in on the streets of London or NYC if they were dressed properly. The same went for the Bronze Age's Greece too, as a matter of fact.
"Naturally," Helen just shrugged. "They are modern people, anatomically speaking. The Neanderthals – they are quite different."
"How so?" Jenny enquired.
"You have to see for yourself to understand it properly," Helen confessed.
The small group (and the others, like it) was travelling southwards for over a week now. Other creatures, such as the woolly mammoths, the European bison, the giant elk and the more modern-looking reindeer were walking alongside them. The predators – packs of massive Ice Age wolves – also made an appearance, but fortunately they did not come over for a closer meeting: a pack of 5 to 8 massive beasts was more than a fair match for a group of people armed only with a handful of spears, a crossbow and a revolver...
There were smaller predators as well – the Arctic foxes. The one that became adopted by the group showed no interest in rejoining them, apparently quite happy being domesticated, and after an unfortunate encounter with a snow owl, it stuck even closer to them: the memory of the small carnivorous dinosaurs (quite similar to the big owl, actually) had made a bigger impression on its spirit than it was initially thought...
About six days or so passed and the small group was about to break camp for evening, when Jenny (who was given the binoculars after her Mossberg became basically an unwieldy club and nothing more) saw something in the distance and exclaimed "What's that?!"
"That," Ryan said thoughtfully, after adjusting the binoculars, "is a real forest, not the stunted trees that grow around here. And that, that looming in the distance, are real mountains."
"Real mountains," Jenny said rather wistfully. "My boyfriend has always wanted to go camping into the Adirondacks, but somehow we never had time... wonder how is he doing now? Has he found anyone new or not?"
Before Ryan could reply, Phrix (that was probably the name of the Greek boy teen; either that, or Phrixus) began to play on his music instrument. As a matter of fact, there were several of them now in the group: the basic flute (played by Helen or Jenny when one of them felt like it), some sort of a more bizarre V-shaped piece played by the Greek boy, and the basic pan pipes, played by his sister. Sometimes, when the evenings felt particularly lonely (or cold), they all would play together, creating some sort of a crude wind instrument concert at the campfire.
This time, however, it proved to be a different sort of evening, as the Arctic fox suddenly took a deep sniff at the strong breeze (the weather was proving to be somewhat windy tonight), and began to growl.
"Helen," Ryan said rather lazily, "the fox doesn't like our new neighbours."
By now this was something of a routine. An Arctic fox may not be a close relative of the domestic dog (or the gray wolf), but this one was certainly doing its best to be one. That said, Helen usually responded placidly enough to the animal's actions, claiming that if they kept their distance from the other camps they would not be bothered either – and was right. But now...
"Ryan, you're keeping the first watch, right?" Helen asked instead, as she reached into her backpack and pulled out a pair of what Ryan was certain was a mismatched pair of combat knives in sheathes.
"Yes," he said instead.
"Good. Take the spear as well. If you think that you see something or someone strange coming upon us, jab me for backup, would you?" Helen continued in a matter of fact tone as she put the knives onto her belt in a well-practiced motion that was somehow both worrisome and reasserting.
"Will do," Ryan only nodded and settled onto the watch.
/
It should be noted at this time that as the group – and the other people – were travelling south, the days were growing shorter and the nights longer very fast, much more so, than in the modern times, 30 000 years onwards. Conversely, though, the days were still relatively long and the nights relatively short, so even with each of the adults keeping an eye out at night, everyone still had some time for sleeping...
Not this time. The Arctic fox refused to calm down, it kept pacing around on its leash and growling rather angrily as night went on – growling loudly enough to keep the others awake despite the relatively exhausting day march. Consequently, when a group of people burst out of the darkness, swinging relatively thick, but short wooden spears, everyone was ready for the attack.
Ryan's attacker (and later, after the fight was over, Ryan would realize that this was the first Neanderthal that he had ever met), swung his spear, and though Ryan still had the revolver with the last full set of rounds, he countered the attacker with his own spear – and was knocked prone as a result.
For a brief moment, as the Neanderthal raised his spear to stab the ex-soldier Ryan had a flashback of the future predator, preparing to deliver a final bite – and he instinctively reacted, by shifting the grip on his own spear, and swinging it upwards.
Ryan got lucky – twice. First, by the fact that Helen had done a much more thorough job on sharpening the tip of her spear than an average Neanderthal or Cro-Magnon would, and second by his shifting grip on it: the sharp edge of his weapon caught the Neanderthal man across the torso, creating a shallow, but long wound upon it.
Ryan's attacker staggered back, trying to acquire more space to manoeuvre or to flee, but Ryan's spear was also longer, and he struck with a stabbing strike – right in the wound. The Neanderthal dropped and did not rise.
Ryan looked around. Jenny was having worse luck against her opponent: she also had her own spear, but Ryan also had had military experience – both in killing other people in general and in killing them with cold weapons, rather than firearms. Consequently, Jenny was mostly dodging the stabbing strikes of her opponent, and only her speed kept her from being seriously hurt; that, and the fact that the Neanderthal would rather have her alive.
Something snapped in Ryan, and he, shifting his grip on the spear again, struck Jenny's opponent directly... through the ribs. His weapon sunk deep and the second Neanderthal collapsed, followed by Jenny.
Giving her a quick look, Ryan realized that Jenny was alive, but in a mental shock instead. Even quicker, he looked around for other opponents – he remembered two or three more at the beginning of the melee – and so them already dead, lying at the feet of Helen, and two bloody, mismatched knives in her hands, a feral grin on her face.
Ryan opened his mouth to comment, but then from the darkness came the sounds of gunfire and two more people appeared on the scene, both armed with revolvers of some sort.
"Howdy, partners," the older gunslinger said brightly. "You won't mind two solders of the Confederacy helping themselves to some of your supplies, do you?"
"You're robbing us?" Jenny spoke in an incredulous tone of voice before Ryan did. "Who are you? Jesse James and Billy the Kid?"
"No, I'm J.W. and this is Joey," the same gunslinger replied. "You're Yankees?"
"British, actually," Helen said, twirling her knives in a very professional way that made the gunslingers nervous (though they did appear to have their own knives). "Anyways-"
"Anyways," J.W. replied as he fired a shot into the air – and the northern lights came on.
Now, Ryan had known about the existence of the northern lights – in theory. In practice he never expected them to be anything like this – so great, so wild, and so wonderful. The giant-sized kaleidoscope of light and shapes charmed the soul and paralyzed the will...though in Ryan's case he kept enough presence of mind to quickly disarm the "two soldiers of Confederacy" and to tie them up.
The northern lights themselves lasted for about an hour and vanished, revealing a lighter sky that was heralding the approaching dawn.
"So," J.W. said slowly. "What was that?"
"The northern lights," Ryan replied, looking askance at Helen. But the ex-anthropologist opted to stay in the background instead, resheathing her blades.
"So, we're not in America?" the younger soldier – Joey – asked.
"This has nothing to do with America, but yes, we are in Europe," Jenny confessed. "Anyways, we're moving south for the winter-"
"Winter? So soon? I thought that the autumn was just beginning," J.W. said slowly. "I mean yes, there were giant lizards and birds and dragons, but the leaves were just turning yellow."
"That's because that were the States," Helen said somewhat smugly. "Here the snow is already starting to appear, see?" she pointed to the ground. And indeed, the ground was covered in a light cover of snow that did not appear to be in any hurry to melt, however. "How did you end up there, though?"
"We and the others were investigating a barn in Cricket Creek," J.W. said slowly. "It was supposed to be haunted, but all we found was a big glowing light – kind of like the will-o'-wisp, but it just floated there, and when we charged it, we ended up in a strange land – you sure that it was the States?"
"Maybe Canada – I don't know for sure," Helen confessed.
"Well, Canada – that's different. Anyways, when we ended up there it was summer, for the trees and whatnot was still green. The will-o'-wisp, or whatever it was, vanished behind us, so we were stuck. For two or three months, until the plants began to turn yellow, we just wandered there, looking for a way home. And then we saw you, and another will-o'-wisp, and followed. It took us a while to catch up to you, but, well, here we are."
"We found a very rusty knife and some bones, maybe human," Ryan said slowly. "Was it one of yours?"
"Yes – Terry," J.W. nodded. "Obnoxious bastard, even for a sergeant. Thank God that he's gone, at least." He paused. "So, now what?"
"We're going south to escape the winter. You can come with us, if you want to," Jenny said softly before the others could.
"Much obliged," J.W. replied as Joey eagerly nodded along. "This place may be much colder than Canada, but there are no wingless dragons around here, so yes, this is better."
Everyone else looked at Helen at that moment, whom just sighed and pulled out some of the raw materials left from the antelope from her backpack. "That's our cue to stay here for the day!" Ryan said brightly.
Helen just glared.
TBC