The Extinct

CHAPTER

43





The night wore on and Eric grew tired. The elder’s stories had ended and the children were put to bed, the women with them. The men sat around now and ate salted chicken and drank a fermented drink out of a communal bowl.

There was a commotion from something coming up the hill and the men jumped up, some grabbing their weapons. Soon, the dim glow of torches could be seen and Eric made out a group of people walking up toward the village.

It was a group of about five men with a woman walking behind them. As they approached they were greeted with cheers and what sounded like congratulatory words. When they were close enough that Eric could see them in the light of the fire, he saw that the woman was bound with rope and being pulled by the men.

“What’s going on?” Eric said.



“I don’t know,” William said, looking over to Thomas. “What is this?”



“Leave it.”



The men rose from beside the fire and encircled the woman, who was cowering and trembling with fear. Eric could see a stream of urine run down her leg. The men began to grope her, feeling her breasts and buttocks and tearing at her clothes.

“What the hell is this, Thomas?” William said.

“I said leave it.”

One of the men picked the woman up, holding her up in the air and laughing. He tossed her back to the ground and she landed with a thud on her back and began to cry.

William jumped forward and Thomas quickly stood and got in his way.



“It’s none of our business, Will.”



“What’re they gonna do with her?” William said.



Thomas didn’t respond. He just looked to the woman and then back to William.



William said loudly, “What are they gonna do with her, Thomas?”



Thomas gazed in his eyes, unwavering. He had the innate ability to look through somebody, as if they just weren’t there. “They’re going to take her in that hut and gang rape her. They may or may not kill her when they’re through.”

Anger gripped William. “Why?”



“They’re a capture from a rival tribe. It’s the way of things out here. The police leave it alone, and so will we.”



“The hell we will. We’ll stop them.”



“We’ll do no such thing. Sit down, eat your food and drink your drink. This has nothing to do with you.”



The woman began to fight as they dragged her into one of the huts, the men laughing and throwing their clothes onto the ground.



“Stop them Thomas,” William said frantically. “Stop them now!”



“I can’t.”



“In the name of God stop them!” He tried to push his way past but Thomas wrapped his arms around him and held on with an iron grip.

“If you interfere they will kill us. We’re their guests.”

“God damn you!” William yelled, pulling away. Thomas swept his feet out from under him and William landed on his back.

Thomas sat on his legs and pinned his arm to his chest. “I won’t let you kill us over this, Elder. Trust me, this not unjustified. The other tribe has done very similar wrongs to this tribe and no doubt they will want revenge for this. It will go on and on, as it probably has for centuries.”

William fought with all the strength he had but his frail physique was no match for the surly Thomas. He stopped fighting, closing his eyes and praying instead. As he heard the screams, tears began to run down his cheeks.

Soon afterward the men came out of the hut, some of them wiping bloodied hands on their bellies. Thomas sat back down near the fire as if nothing had happened.

William rose to his knees and then stood up. “Damn you,” he hissed. He stumbled off, heading down the hill and Eric rose to grab him.

“Let him be,” Thomas said, not looking up. “He’ll be fine.”

Eric looked down the hill until William was out of sight. He turned back to Thomas who was busy getting drunk and staring at the flames. Eric came and sat across from him.

“What?” Thomas said.



“I didn’t say anything.”



“By the way you’re staring at me I can tell you want to. So, just say it.”



“You could’ve stopped them.”



Thomas took a long gulp of the drink and absently held the bowl in his lap, running his fingers along the edge. “I had a dream the other night. It was of a pond I used to visit with my father when I was young, I think it was called Topps Pond. It was a beautiful place, a small body of water on the top of a mountain near our home, all the plants a bright green around the water’s edge. We used to fish, though, I found out later there were no fish in the water. My father just wanted to spend time with me.

“I had my first exposure to death in that pond. It was an old dog we had, I can’t remember his name. He had a toy ball I used to throw around. One day we were at the pond and my father fell asleep in the boat. I threw the dog’s toy in the water, thinking he’d swim it back. For whatever reason, the dog couldn’t swim. I thought he was fine under the water. By the time my father woke up the dog was dead.

“I hated the pond after that. I refused to go, and soon my father stopped asking.” Thomas finished off the rest of the drink and threw the empty bowl on the ground. “In my dream, I was at that pond again as a child. I was staring into the water and I was so full of hate. But I was looking at my reflection, and there was no hate looking back at me . . . the pond just didn’t care.” Thomas stared off into the distance, unblinking. He finally took a deep breath and looked at Eric, his eyes softening. “Anyway, I’ve waxed philosophical long enough. I’m drunk and going to bed.” He rose and stumbled off into the night.

Eric stared into the flames. One of the tribe, a male who had raped the woman, walked to him and took the empty bowl off the ground. He went to a large vat across the village and filled it up again. He brought the bowl over to Eric and, smiling, offered it to him. Eric took the bowl and the man seemed pleased.

The man still had smears of blood over his skin from the woman, but it didn’t seem to bother him. For the first time Eric realized these people were not like him. Not just in appearance or culture, but in soul too. They were part of the landscape, part of the jungle itself. And like the jungle they did as they felt.

He tilted the bowl and spilled out the drink onto the dirt, watching as drops splashed into the fire. The body of the woman was brought out by two men and tossed near the forest. Eric used the empty bowl as a shovel and dug a hole near the fire, putting the body in and filling the hole. He watched the fire awhile and then kicked dirt onto the flames, extinguishing it and leaving himself in sullen darkness.





Victor Methos's books