Home In The Badlands

By Rob Smythe

Home In The Badlands is the third of the three part series The Badlands Saga, an adventure story for middle grade readers. Laura, 14, and her brother Mike, 12, are trapped in the Stone Age, living with a cave-dwelling family. Life is harsh and food is scarce.

Stranded with them is the dizzy scientist who invented the method of time travel, and one of the archaeologists who has taken over as head of the family following the death of the family's father. Mike's attempt to help the scientist find a solution to their problem almost proves fatal.

Members of a more advanced tribe arrive to bargain for the family's womenfolk. Expecting trouble, Laura masterminds the cave's defences. After the enemy attacks, Mike must undertake a rescue.

The last window to the twenty-first century will arrive soon, and the kids will have to travel a long distance to meet it. A natural disaster threatens the enemy's camp, though, and Mike knows how to save them. If he stays to assist, he and his sister might be stuck in the Stone Age forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rob Smythe
• Release date: Apr 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9780986967627

Rob Smythe

Rob is a science teacher in Ontario, Canada. His specialties are physics and astronomy. He has written textbooks for those subjects, as well as for computer science. He has written for magazines, and his short stories have placed favorably in contests hosted by Writer's Digest and the Hawaii Writers Conference.Rob loves music, especially musical theater, and has directed or acted in over a dozen stage productions. He is a private pilot (Cessna 150, 172), a scuba diver, and a fishing enthusiast. He plays hockey, baseball, and curling.Favorite writing spots: winter--his home in Burlington, Ontario; summer--his cottage (cabin) in Haliburton, Ontario.

Book preview

The Badlands Saga

An adventure story for Middle Grade Readers

by

Rob Smythe

Book 1: Lost In The Badlands

Book 2: Trapped In The Badlands

Book 3: Home In The Badlands

Book 3

Home In The Badlands

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Rob Smythe

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Chapter 1

A cold wind surged down the valley from the north. The feathery tops of the waist-high grass bent in turn, sending waves of white rippling across the meadow. The maples let go the last of their leaves, which swirled to the ground like huge red snowflakes. Some landed in the river, dozens of little boats heading downstream together.

Mike blew into his cupped his hands, then rubbed them together. He flexed his fingers, trying to get the blood flowing. Squatting, he began pulling in the net.

When Braun and Treller had followed him and his sister into the past a month ago, they had brought the net to catch ancient people. How fitting it was, he thought, that the very people the archaeologists were trying to capture were now using the net to find their food.

A single trout sparkled in the webbing. Mike dragged the net up over the river bank and reached beneath it to slip his fingers under the fish's gills. He tossed the trout onto the trampled-down grass well back from the river. He watched as it flipped and flopped, trying to find the water. The fish wanted to get home as much as he did. For a moment, Mike though about letting the fish go—kind of proving that there was a way home.

But his new family hadn’t eaten meat for days.

He tossed the net back into the river. He got down on his stomach and reached into the water. Stretching, he struggled to straighten the mesh out and position it to block the next fish foolish enough to swim right along the shore.

Jeez, the water’s cold, he muttered after sitting up. He wiped his hands on his pants and looked up past the shrubs on the other side of the river. High on the valley ridge, the trees stood like a row of soldiers. Something just didn’t feel right today. He wasn’t sure if it was that the forest was too quiet, or if he was just missing his old life now that Halloween had passed without any trick-or-treating.

Plodding back across the field, he headed for a gap in the cedars that marked the path to the cave. He pulled his animal-hide cloak tighter around his shoulders. Caveman Mike he could have been, if they'd had Halloween in 10,000 BC.

The dirt-covered trout dangled from his fingers, weary and resigned to its fate. One fish wouldn’t feed everyone back at the cave. What did the fist weigh? Maybe a pound, a pound-and-a-half? He tried to estimate how many mouthfuls each person would get.

Mowatta, the old grandmother, didn’t eat much of anything, but Watta needed nourishment to help her nurse the baby. Laura would get a share, and Umi's two sisters.

Oh, and the professor would need some. Professor Newton would forget to eat unless Mike reminded him.

He hoped Braun and Umi had some luck finding game. He wondered what deer steaks would taste like.

On the other hand, he half-wished that the pair would come back empty-handed. After dinner, that is. It’d serve them right for going hunting without him. Sure, he was limping a little a few days ago when his leg had acted up. His knee had never healed right from the injury with Treller. He grit his teeth. It was good that he’d never see Treller again.

His thoughts returned to Braun and Umi. Deep down, Mike knew that he couldn’t have kept up with them. But leaving him home with the girls…jeez, what an insult.

Take care of the place, Braun had said. You’re in charge.

Well, he had seen through that in a second. As if the women even cared what he thought. And the girls were always giggling at him.

Not Laura, though, of course. His sister treated him decently enough. Still, there were those times when she wanted him to practice some math or memorize some history from the encyclopedia on his Flexi computer. What good would that do if he was stuck back in the Stone Age forever?

Oh, yeah, again he’d forgotten about the professor. Dr. Absentminded was still around, but he seemed to be off in outer space most of the time. Perhaps inner space would be more like it, the way he was always talking to himself. If nobody told him there was some fish for dinner, he’d probably not even notice.

Behind Mike, a dozen ravens exploded out of the willows on the far side of the river. Their angry caws echoed down the valley. The flock rose, spread, then converged downstream on another tree. All the while, the birds complained loudly to everyone within range.

Something had spooked them.

Mike raised himself up on his toes to see over the grass. He heard movement on the river path. Braun and Umi? Mike lifted a hand to wave, but stifled his shout. Across the river, two men clothed in animal skins appeared, walking along the bank. The one in front held up a spear, as he looked down at the water. Two more men appeared behind them.

The leader thrust his spear into the river. A cheer erupted, followed by shouts and cries.

Mike crept forward to get a better view. He had never seen these men before. They looked different than Umi’s people. Their skin was darker and they appeared rougher somehow. Maybe it was that they were dirty, and their cloaks had belts crammed with knives and other dangerous-looking tools.

The spear-thrower held a cord connected to one end of the spear. Hand over hand he reeled it in. The line tightened and he gave it a tug. The others, as mean looking as the first two, gathered round, gesturing and chattering.

The second man grabbed the line and the two heaved. The line snapped. The two tumbled backward to roars of laughter from the others.

The first man kicked off his footwear and pulled off his skins. Naked, he slid off the bank into the water, below Mike’s view. Mike stole across the path behind a tree.

The man wadded through the water, and lifted his spear. On the end was a wriggling trout. Snagged to it was a network of tangled line. The man looked over his shoulder at the others. He lifted the fishnet Mike had placed in the river and began to walk back out of the river.

Hey, that’s mine! The words burst out of Mike before he could catch them. The men’s attention turned toward him.

For a moment Mike stood frozen, wishing he could reverse the clock.

Either that, or become invisible.

One of the men made a move toward Mike. He held his arms aloft, a spear in one hand, shook them, and screamed.

Mike jumped, took a step back, and bashed his head against a tree. He spun around and began sprinting away. Behind him, derisive wails broke out, and he slowed. He stopped and looked back.

Two of the men were doubled over, laughing. One slapped his knee, roaring. Another mimicked the original joker: he raised his arms and yelled, but his scream turned into chortling. He stumbled backward, hooting, and the others laughed harder.

Red-faced, Michael began to steam. First they steal his stuff, then scare him out of his wits, then make fun of him. He took a step into the open, and raised his fist in the air. When one of the men spotted him and copied the gesture, the jeers increased. Feeling even more stupid, Mike lowered his hand. The original hunter was clambering up onto the bank, offering the netting to the others for examination.

Mike watched, chagrined, as they inspected the net, pulling and stretching it this way and that. One of them, tall, with a brown sack draped over his shoulder stepped away from the others. He took a couple of paces toward the bank and peered directly at Mike.

Mike felt a chill down his spine as the man’s eyes examined him. Although separated from him by the width of the river, Mike could sense the man weighing him, evaluating him.

Mike felt like shrinking back into the grass to escape the man’s gaze. But he swelled his chest, and lifted his hand to show off the fish he caught. They might as well see that, despite being only twelve, he was as good a hunter as them.

The man regarded him silently, then swiftly pulled some sort of hammer from his belt and hurled it across the stream. Before Mike could react, the weapon slammed into the fish, knocking it from his hand.

Startled, Mike yelled in surprise and terror. He spun around and sped across the field. Heart pounding, he bolted through the wall of cedars and raced up the gravel path.

Ahead, the trail ended in a little clearing in front of the cave entrance. As always, flames crackled from the logs in the fire pit that shielded the entrance. Crouched to the right of the fire pit, Kama and Salma were performing their usual afternoon job of preparing dinner.

Mike skidded to a halt, breathing hard. The girls looked up at him in surprise as he gasped for breath. Embarrassed, he turned away. Bent over, he stood with his hands on his knees, panting. He snuck a peek at them. Seven or eight year old Salma wasn't paying him any more attention, but Kama, almost his age, was still looking at him.

Hey, Mike, any fish? He turned to see Laura slip out of the cave between the wall and the fire.

I had a whole bunch, Mike wanted to say, big ones. But these big goons threatened me and stole our dinner. Instead, he just shook his head.

Too bad, Laura said. I was hoping for some meat for a change.

Jeez! If only he hadn’t shown himself.

The professor bumbled past, mumbling, examining the orange box hanging on a cord around his neck. He’s got another idea, Laura said. He wants to string a wire across the valley. He says it might resonate with the singularity. Whatever that means. You know, some days I think I understand what he’s saying, but one minute later, I don’t have a clue. She raised an eyebrow. What’s got you so nerved?

Mike realized that he’d been glancing over his shoulder toward the field. Is Braun back yet?

No, why?

Mike snatched another peek down the path. With no sign of the strangers, his heart and breathing were almost back to normal. Although he didn’t want to alarm his sister, he couldn’t resist relating what had happened. I saw five hunters down at the river. They took my net.

Laura’s body stiffened. What did they look like? Her voice broke.

Kind of like you described about those other guys that… He stopped. His sister’s face had gone white. Hey, that doesn’t mean they were the same guys. Umi said those guys wander around and they might not be back this way until next spring. I mean, what’s the chance of them coming here to…

He paused again, kicking himself. The last thing he wanted to do was rekindle Laura's memories. Soon after they'd arrived, a man had captured her and offered her for trade, like a piece of property. Luckily, Umi’s father had come to the trading place and bought her.

Laura’s voice softened. Did one of them have a brown sack slung under his shoulder, like I carry my satchel? And a necklace of white rock flakes? Mike remembered the guy that had stepped aside and looked across the river at him. He had been carrying some sort of sack, but Mike wasn’t sure about the necklace. He shook his head. Besides, he added, they were hunters, not traders. With short spears. He decided not to mention the weapons in their belts.

Laura exhaled and some color came back to her face. Mike knew by the way she scanned the trees that she had only partially relaxed. She stood still, staring down the path.

Don’t worry, they were on the other side of the river, Mike said, just passing by. They have no way of knowing we’re here.

They didn’t see you? she asked, quickly.

Mike cleared his throat. He had already told a bit of a lie. How much deeper did want to sink to make his sister feel better?

Certainly, they know we are here, Newton said from behind him.

Mike whirled around. The professor looked up from his gadget, and continued. They can surely see the smoke from the pit. And when people meet, what do you think they talk about? Probably everyone knows that strange visitors are here living in this cave.

Oh, yeah? Mike responded. "Then why haven’t they come here before?

Why would they? the man said. He combed his hand through his kinky white afro. He stopped, looked at a bit of something he’d plucked from his hair and flicked it to the ground. What does Umi’s family have that they would want?

Women, Laura whispered. Her face had gone white again.

Before Mike could think of something to say, a high-pitched scream from Salma made him jump. The