Heidi hasn’t moved an inch since I first left. A dozen or so people have arrived, yet they seem to be gravitating to the other side of the camp from her. Only Em is in remotely the same area, and even she is off by the fire.
I approach Heidi and take a seat about six feet away. She looks to me with a hint of annoyance, but doesn’t complain.
“I see they haven’t killed you off yet,” she mutters.
“Can’t say they didn’t try, though,” I huff. “The, uh... people over there— they came from Tom’s group?”
“No one from Tom’s group has made it yet. These people came from across the lake,” she replies.
“New guys, huh...?”
“I’d hoped at least some of Tom’s would show up,” she says, looking out into the forest.
I’m hesitant. “...Speaking of... H-How’s the kid doing?”
“Robin? So you do actually care about him?”
“Huh? Not at all, I just can’t have him slouching around while we’re working our asses off,” I mutter.
“Somehow, that weak excuse sounds familiar,” she says. “—With a certain old student of yours. Does that ring any bells?”
“Is he alright or isn’t he? I’m not fucking around here.”
“He left. To be alone.”
I release my stomach muscles to fall flat onto my back. “Well great.”
“I know which way he went, if you would like to see him,” she says.
“Nah, I’ll let him be. He knows better than to go far, anyways,” I reply. “...So... How about that question I asked you last?”
“Remind me what that was.”
“I ain’t gonna say it again. You obviously remember.”
“Well maybe sit up like an adult and we can talk about this.”
I sit up again. A few pine needles stick to the back of my shirt. I brush them off with the back of my hand. “Alright, I’m up. Happy now?”
“More-so than before,” she replies. “Now where was I...?”
“You said ‘I think,’ Then Robin came in screaming,” I say.
“Right, of course,” she nods slowly. “I suppose we can try to be more... agreeable with each other. The key word in there is ‘we,’ though. I won’t do anything unless you promise to put in the same amount of effort.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say. With some strain, I slowly take a stand. “Now how about we get some work done?”
She stands up beside me. “What kind? I’m still stiff from lighting the fire.”
“We’ll build a lean-to. Or like... a few, seeing as we’ve got a lot more people than before.”
“And you know how to make one?”
“I do, but not equipped how we are,” I reply. “We need tools, and lots of them. I’m gonna have every able sucker here out chopping trees by next week. And assuming more people show up, we’ll have them start work as well.”
“Four day’s in and us humans will have already begun deforestation all over again,” mutters Heidi. “Alright, then what kind of tools can we make?”
I stand everyone around me as I unfurl a shirt full of various rocks of many different sizes. “Alright, listen up. Today we’re gonna start building tools. Lots of them,” I say. “Now watch me, and then go off and start gathering your own materials. I’m damn sure you won’t succeed on your first try, so that’s why I’ll be testing each one you make. The ones with the best tools will be toolmakers until further notice. The rest of you will be gatherers, bringing the toolmakers any items they require.”
A man raises his hand.
“This isn’t a goddamn school,” I mutter. “Say whatever the hell you need to.”
“Um, yes, uh...” begins the man, probably in his mid forties. “Who made you the one in charge?”
“Got a problem with that, jackass? You’re free to set out and make your own goddamn camp,” I say. “But if you don’t want to starve to death, freeze to death, or otherwise be mauled to death, then I suggest you shut the fuck up and do what I say.”
The man nods slowly, lowering his head more after each nod. He says nothing more.
“Any more remarks? Good,” I say. “Now, let’s start with our first tool. Today, we’re making stone hatchets. Anybody used a hatchet before?”
A few people raise their hands, probably six of the seventeen people.
“Good. The rest of you idiots’ll learn from those guys,” I say. I hold up one rock, a sand-colored rock with rough edges. “Let’s start with the materials. I’ve found this here over by the lake, it’s about palm-sized. If you don’t find any that’re just right, then you’ll have to peck at a bigger slab until one the right size falls off using a rock kinda like this other one.” I hold up a smoother rock just a little bigger than the first. I set that down and pick up a third rock, one with a flat edge that I hold against the first. “This one right here is used to make the axe head easier to shape. This part takes patience, so don’t go bumming out on me. Bum out on me, and you’ll be looking for your own fire tonight. Once it’s shaped to roughly resemble the final product, come back to me and we’ll go on to the next step. Now get going!”
Some time after I sent everyone out, Tom comes up to me. I look up from my work.
“Seen Robin anywhere?” he asks.
“Went out to brood in something,” I mutter. “Have you finished the head?”
“Eh? Ah, no. Takin’ a break. Just wondered where the kid went,” he says with a huff in his voice.
“You should probably get back to it, then,” I say. “I’m counting on you to be the first one to do it right.”
“Course,” he nods. “...But really, where’s Robin gone off to? I’m gettin’ a bit worried, y’know.”
“He’s an adult. He can take care of himself,” I dismiss. “But fine, do whatever the hell you want. Just finish that head before sundown.”
“I’m gonna go see if he’s alright,” Tom says.
“Heidi knows which way he went. Go ask her,” I reply.
“Thanks, Trevor. You’re a good man.”
“Don’t lie to my face,” I mutter.
He waves and heads off towards Heidi. I sigh, returning to my work.
“Alright, for the few of you that are remotely competent— I thank you,” I say. We’re stood near the lake, eight people including myself. About two hours have passed, and I quickly realized during that time that I don’t have the energy to teach them one at a time. Therefore, I waited until a larger group was ready before beginning. “Let’s get these sharpened, then we’ll start working with the wood. Now find a nice big rock, set it right on the shoreline, but make sure you wet it first. Place the bit you’ve chipped nice and flat on the smoothest face of the rock. Push down with moderate force and slide the head along the big rock until you start to see progress, then flip it over. Make sure you keep the grinding rock wet or you’ll just be working against yourself. Understand? I wanna see rocks sharp enough to draw blood, people. Let’s get ‘em there.”
I step off to the side and watch as the camp members scrounge around for suitable grindstones, grumbling to themselves in exhaustion and in overall hatred of me. But I don’t care. I’m used to working with teenagers, after all.
“You sure handle them well... for a high school teacher,” says Heidi, approaching from the campsite.
“I worked with idiots then, and I’m working with idiots now. I don’t see a difference,” I mutter. “Get back to work.”
“Or we could move on to the next step,” she says.
“Next step? The hell are you talking about?”
“Well, we need shelter,” she replies. “You’ve almost finished yourself a perfectly functioning hatchet. Why not get a head start?”
“And you’re just assuming I can pull a fully functioning cabin outta my ass?” I scoff. “It takes time, and I sure as hell can’t do it alone.”
“What kind of structure did you have in mind? We can at least plot out the area it will require,” she says.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Like I said earlier, we’re building a lean-to,” I reply. “Actually, it’s the traditional Finnish version called a Laavu. It’s basically a half-teepee, but instead of cloth it’s made outta wood. Get what I’m saying?”
“I... have no clue. I suppose I’ll have to wait to see,” she mutters.
“Yeah, well...” I swing the empty wooden handle over my shoulder. “We could use a roof over our heads anyways, I guess. Alright, fine. Just gimme a sec.”
She nods and begins off towards the fire pit.
I approach a man bent down on the lakeshore a good distance from everyone else. He’s a shorter, stalkier man with a shaven head that looks to have just started to grow out again. When he notices me, he looks up with a mildly disgruntled expression. He nods, but his expression doesn’t change.
“There a problem here?” he mutters.
“How much weight you thinkin’ you can you carry over your shoulder?” I say.
“Two fifty,” he says. “What about it?”
“How about dragging two tons a few hundred feet?”
“Not possible.”
“Then you’re probably gonna want to finish that hatchet first.”
He pauses. “What’s this for?”
“What else do you expect?” I say.
He shrugs. He takes the stone in-hand and lightly tosses the other he’d been chipping it with. “Lead the way,” he says.
Newly-made stone hatchets in-hand, we make our way into the forest traveling in the opposite direction of the lake.
“My name’s Trevor, by the way,” I say. “Back in the old world I didn’t tend to give a shit who’s named what. But I guess things are a little different now.”
“Harris,” he says. “Harris Thomson.”
“Well, Harris Thomson... Hope you don’t have a thing against hard work. I ain’t gonna lie, this’s probably gonna hurt.”
He nods.
We stop at a young cedar tree about a hundred feet from camp, about sixty feet tall and no more than twelve inches wide. I knock twice on the bark, and nod to Harris.
“This it?” he asks.
“Sure, why not,” I reply. “I’ll be honest here— I don’t know shit about trees. Is it good? Is it bad? Hell if I know.”
Harris approaches the tree and kneels down on one leg. He flicks away a loose bit of stripped bark then moves his gaze down to the makeshift hatchet.
“Before we do this, we should probably get a good idea of what we want to do,” I say. “Get me?”
“How long do you need it?” he asks, turning to me.
I shield my eyes and look up to the top of the tree. “Ten feet each, I’d say. We’ll split the logs down the middle, as well, so we’ll get about... Twelve logs from this one.”
Harris nods and reels back the hand that holds the hatchet. He yells as he swings the tool. It hits the tree with an unsatisfying thunk, the head of the hatchet falling to his feet. He removes the empty hilt and peers at the chunk he’d taken out.
“Easy there, Grognok,” I mutter. “These tools ain’t as strong as the ones we’re used to.”
“I can see that,” he replies, picking up the stone head from the ground.
“So what I’m thinking is we’re gonna cut just about three down, two from out here and the third right in camp,” I say. “A laavu’s usually made from a tall middle point with wood leaned up against it. For the sake of ease, we’ll cut down the third tree about seven feet up so we don’t have to dig a deep-ass hole and shove a pole into it.”
“Fine,” he says. He shoves the stone head back into place and again reels back, the head again falling out upon contact.
“No, no. Y’know what? How about I call you over when I’m ready,” I say. “I’ll... get this thing down in no time.”
He steps back and nods.
“Thanks,” I mutter, taking his place. “Why don’t you go help the guys who’re almost finished? Then come back out with them and we’ll all get to work.”
Again, he nods. Without another word, he sets off back towards camp. I sigh when he’s gone, and slowly begin chopping away.
The sun has sunk somewhat in the sky by the time the monolith finally begins to creak.
“T-i-i-i-i-m-b-e-r-r-r-r!” I holler, though the sound itself of a huge fucking tree falling should’ve been enough to get people running. It crashes to the ground, sending leaves and dirt flying each way. I take a moment to revel in myself before grabbing a fistful of branches and swinging them clear of the main body.
Strangely, the process of stripping the branches takes only an hour or so, and I finish just as the sky begins to turn an orangish hue. Wiping my brow and struggling to clear the sap from my hands, I turn towards the campsite and ponder whether I should call Harris back over. But I decide against it, and instead sling the hatchet over my shoulder. I idly whistle while I meander my way back to camp.
When I arrive, I’m met with seventeen people crowded around the campfire. They each brandish their own brand new stone hatchets, each better than I’d have ever thought possible... at least coming from them. Harris sits among them, silently tossing a loose stone into the air. His tool is in pieces at his feet for some reason, but I can tell he did well the job I’d asked.
“Finally finished?” Harris says.
“Yeah, no thanks to you,” I smirk. “What, did everyone flake out on me just before coming to help?”
Harris shrugs.
“Tomorrow, then,” I mutter. “Get ready, asshats.”
I notice Heidi sitting a good distance away, under the exact same tree I’d last seen her under. I give them a faint wave and plod towards her. When she notices me coming, she raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms.
“About time you got back. I was beginning to think you’d gotten eaten,” she says.
“Bullshit, you heard me wailing on that thing the whole time,” I reply. I take a seat. “I don’t see you with your own hatchet, by the way.”
“That’s because mine’s over here,” she replies. I nearly leap in surprise as she pulls from around the tree a full-sized stone axe nearly the length of my whole arm.
“Jesus! What the hell...?”
“I wasn’t quite satisfied by making anything lesser than yours. So I improved upon it the best way I could.”
“You’re goddamn compensating,” I huff.
“I most certainly am. I had to off-balance your massive ego with something, after all,” she mutters. “Well? Will this help?”
“Can you swing it?”
“With very little ease, and a great deal of strain,” she replies.
“I’ll take that as a no, then,” I say. “How about I trade you that for mine? I’m gonna need your help as long as I can have it when tomorrow comes.”
“And you’re just assuming I can’t do it if I’m using this?” she says.
“Am I wrong?” I reply. “Use whatever you want. You’ll be working just as long as the rest of us though, so don’t complain if and when your arms start to hurt.”
She nods. She turns to me moments later. “Mind if I pass out some rations? Everybody seems so... tired. And hungry. They could use the nutrients.”
“You mean the stuff I almost died for?” I ask. “Fine, give it all away, why don’t you. Not like I care.”
“Put their needs above your own, for once,” she says. “I won’t give it all, just enough to keep them well until we can spare time for the hunt.”
“You really are the worst vegetarian on the planet,” I chuckle dryly.
“I hardly have a choice in the matter,” she says. “If I had any chance of—“
A rustle in the forest cuts her sentence short. Slowly, we both rise to our feet. The whole camp hears it, and everybody takes a cautious stand. Heidi grips the axe threateningly, but I motion for her to lower it. Moments later, the first sign of marching humans becomes clear. First I see Tom’s red mop, followed by a greasy head of hair I can only assume belongs to Robin. Only... I can hear far more footsteps than what the two of them should be making alone. So I peer deeper into the thick to find a patch of people waddling their way behind them.
“Robin! Tom!” I holler.
Tom looks up at me and waves. “Went out huntin’ again!” he calls back. It’s then that I notice many small animals slung across each of their shoulders, even more than what they brought back last time. I can hear the campers behind me loosen their shoulders.
“What’s with the conga line?” I say as they get closer. I point at the group that still seems to be walking at an odd angle. I quickly realize they’re carrying something, but I still can’t tell exactly what. I approach them, and finally see through to find a whole animal carcass.
“Alrigh,’ set it on down here,” says Tom as they enter the opening. The people sigh in relief and drop it in place.
“Hold on...” I mutter. “Robin, don’t tell me you killed that, did you? Isn’t that—“
“It’s him, alright,” Robin sighs. “It broke its leg and couldn’t walk.”
“ ‘Stead of lett’n it get eaten alive by wolves, we figured we’d do the humane thing. Ain’t that right, Robin?” says Tom.
“Y-Yeah... I guess even the toughest fall sometimes,” Robin nods reluctantly. “Sorry. I know how much respect you had for it.” He lowers his head.
“K-Kid, don’t worry about it. I didn’t mean to sound, Err... I mean... It’s... just some stupid deer,” I waver. “Feeling alright...? Had Heidi here up and worried about you when you ran off.”
“Hm—? Oh, yeah...” he nods. “I just had some stuff on my mind. I’m... I’m fine now, thanks.”
“You obviously aren’t,” I mutter, “But I guess I won’t press anything. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks. Again— thank you, Trevor,” Robin smiles. “...O-Oh, I skipped over the biggest part, though. These people over here were all from the original camp. We were so glad when we found them, I-I still can’t believe it.”
“Really?” I tilt my head to look the group over. “Yeah, I guess they do look familiar. So they didn’t all get... y’know...”
Robin’s face grows sullen. “Yeah... A lot of people got hurt, and a lot of people died... b-but—“
“Ain’t nothin’ to it,” Tom blurts. “We did what we could, and that’s good enough, y’hear?”
Robin nods. “U-Um... So, we’ve got food now. Most of us haven’t eaten much since we got here. We should—“
“Oh, of course,” says Heidi. “Trevor, we have more than enough food to go around now that Tom and Robin have brought it. What you have has already been prepared, so it only makes sense to dole out the rest of it tonight.”
“Fine,” I mutter. “Tom, how quick can you get all this meat processed?”
“Uh... ‘bout seven hours,” Tom replies.
“Sun’s not gonna last that long,” I say. “If we dish out all I’ve got left, we’ll probably be fine for another day. We’ll use tomorrow to butcher, and after that we’ll work on shelter while the meat dries.”
“You really like drying meat, don’t you?” says Robin.
“Well, It sure as hell ain’t gonna last long with all the juices still inside. Drying it means we can keep it out in the open for days without it going bad on us,” I reply. “Getting the shits from bad food would be a death sentence out here.”
“I’m pretty sure just about everything out here’s a death sentence,” Robin whimpers. “Yeah, drying it sounds good if that’s the case.”
“To be clear, the smoke kills most of the bacteria, so—“ I begin.
“We understand well enough,” Heidi sighs. “We should do what we can tonight before getting to sleep. Then I suggest we wake with the sun.”
No one seems to complain, not even the few that arrived with Tom and Robin. They all gravitate towards the campfire until they’re practically on top of it. The others are welcoming them in when I turn my attention back to Tom and Robin. When Robin notices my gaze, he breaks off mid-sentence with Tom.
“So, you’ve got an idea for a shelter, Trevor?” he asks.
“Well yeah, I’ve already cut down a goddamn tree by myself,” I reply. “Speaking of which, go talk to that bald guy over there and have him teach you to make a stone hatchet tomorrow. Despite what pop culture says, you can’t cut down a tree by punching it.”
“But you actually have a plan?” Robin asks.
“Well it ain’t like I’ve built one before. I know how to make it, and that’s what matters,” I reply. “What we are making, and this’s the last time I’m explaining it, is a traditional Finnish lean-to. Call it what you want, but in the end it’ll be the best shelter we’ll have for a while.”
“What about after that?” Robin then asks.
“That— is a good question, and the answer is that I don’t know,” I huff. “I don’t claim to be an architect. All I know are the primitive things, before we took to precise measuring and shit. Best case scenario is we’ve got someone familiar with construction in our midst.”
“Without nails or screws, any type of construction would be a challenge,” says Heidi. “Plus, we hardly have the resources to temper the wood we cut. Anything we do make would need to be from raw tree trunk.”
“With hope, we can make a little more progress,” I say. “Metal won’t come easy, but this land has its fair share. With metal comes stronger tools; tools that’ll let us build way stronger structures. Of course— I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Let’s settle down for the night and we’ll pick up tomorrow, yeah?”
The rest silently agree. We each go our separate ways around the camp, Heidi returning to her favorite spot, and Robin and Tom going over to skin some of the smaller animals they’d caught. I decide to swallow the antisocial beast brooding within me and join the larger campfire for the first time. Little do I realize, however, that these people before me will eventually become some of my most trusted companions— in this world turned back.