Caveman: A Time Travel Romance, #1

By Avery Kloss

Surviving a plane crash was a miracle, but what happened next defied all logic.

Flying to Miami for a photo shoot, make up artist Janet Delgrange’s plane crashes in a freak electrical storm, instantly killing the pilots and five other passengers. The survivors, some of whom are injured, discover the world is not what it should be. Photographer Philippe Fey sees strange and unusual things through the lens of his camera… creatures and people that look… primitive.

Archaeologist Amy Sandhurst discovers a cave near Cactus Hill, Virginia. The drawings on the ceiling baffle her, leaving her to believe whoever painted a Twitter username amongst images of mastodons had to be playing a joke. After further analysis, she realizes they were written nearly ten thousand years ago.

The survivors are not alone, traveling amongst fearsome, giant creatures and the Clovis people, who seem the most puzzling of all. Janet befriends young Punda, whose father, Gundre, is a hunter for the tribe. She is drawn to Gundre, who watches her across the fire, the flames of interest flickering in his eyes.

Trapped in the past, Janet realizes she may never be able to go home again. Although this new life isn’t something she could ever have imagined, she must adapt to survive. That could very well include becoming a caveman’s wife.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Freedom To Wander Publications
• Release date: Nov 4, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386049708

Book preview

Chapter One

July 10, 2015 Cactus Hill, Virginia

The humidity felt unbearable, sweat dripping into my bra, soaking it thoroughly. Having seen the opening, I had gone back to grab a flashlight, although I had one on my phone, but the battery ran low. Professor Pine’s voice resonated in the distance, Stephen giving a tour of the excavation site to a new group of volunteers.

Insects buzzed in the foliage, a bee flying over the brim of the baseball cap I wore. My sneakers slid in a layer of dust upon a flat rock, nearly sending me to my knees. I scrambled towards a gap between two boulders. The opening looked to be nearly two feet wide and taller than a man, perhaps six feet in height. I would more than likely get bitten by a nasty spider in there, but curiosity propelled me forward.

Amy!

Shit! I muttered. Yeah?

What are you doing? William Jacob, an associate professor at Stony Brook University, came up behind me. You on a break?

I am. I turned to look at him, seeing a man in jeans and a white, long-sleeved shirt. He wore a white, wide-brimmed hat to protect his skin from the sun.

He glanced at the flashlight in my hand. You find somethin’?

Irritated that he had followed me, I murmured, I don’t know. I’m just wandering around.

You mind if I join you?

I might not have another opportunity to explore, because I would be leaving the site in two days, and I had a million things to do before then. I guess. I'm just poking around.

He grinned. The story of my life.

Is that an archaeology joke? I stepped down between the boulders.

Digging, poking, brushing … I guess. What you got there? He pointed to the rocks. Is that a cave?

I don’t know. I’m sure people have been to it before. Everything here has been examined thoroughly. The summer dig was in full swing, a steady influx of professors and students arriving to help with excavations.

They’ve done a detailed station survey, that’s for sure. I don’t recall this on the map, though.

Well, I’m sure it’s been looked at. The opening loomed, partially hidden by foliage. Are you missing lunch? I had wanted to explore alone, dammit. Go away!

I forgot to refrigerate my sandwich. The mayonnaise is probably bad now. I don’t want to spend the afternoon puking.

He wasn’t going away. That sucks. I’d had cheese slices and an apple. Do you think we’ll fit in here?

You will. He followed me, crawling over the rocks to stand at my side. Turn your light on. Let’s see what we got.

I had only just met William at the beginning of the season, knowing he had a girlfriend in New York. My fiancé had not joined me this summer, staying home to work.

You might have something there, he said.

I doubt it. Everything around here’s been gone over with a fine-toothed comb. The opening was indeed wide enough to pass through, a dusty, musty smell emanating. Here we go. Turning the light on, I pointed it inside, seeing a rocky cavern. It doesn’t look very big.

Let’s check it out, Professor Sandhurst.

All right. I stepped inside, worried about cobwebs, but nothing tickled my face other than the particles of dust floating in the air. The flashlight illuminated streams of them. We could use more light.

I’ll help with that. He withdrew a phone from his pocket, turning it on, flooding the space. How’s that?

Good. I passed the light over, finding nothing of interest. It’s just a tiny cavern. Several steps led to the center of the room, the air cool against my skin. It’s kinda nice in here.

William bent to examine something on the floor. Yeah, that’s what I thought.

What is it?

A Clovis point.

I knelt before him. Let me see. I examined the distinctive, fluted projectile. It is. I met William’s gaze, as a sudden sense of excitement crackled around us. They have to know about this.

Apparently not.

It’s so close to the site. They did scouting for months.

He shrugged, getting to his feet. Maybe they do know, but we’re here now. I want to see what that is.

What?

The light from his phone illuminated a crack. That. He passed me, his feet shuffling in the dirt.

We need to be careful. There might be other artifacts, and they’re fragile. We should probably leave it and tell Professor Pine about this.

Yeah, we will, but … he stood before a wall of stone, feeling his way around a crack. There’s more in there, Amy.

What do you mean? To my surprise, he took a step back and kicked at the stone, the wall crumbling. What the hell are you doing? A cloud of dust floated in the air, filling my lungs. I coughed. Are you out of your mind? I just told you we need to be careful and you go commando? Appalled, I glared at his back, scowling. You just wrecked the entire site.

Slow your roll, honey. Let’s have a look.

The whole thing is compromised now! I glanced at the debris on the floor. You’ve disturbed whatever could be there. You smashed an entire wall. I closed my eyes, praying for patience, yet feeling entirely exasperated. I can’t believe this. Do you know what kind of trouble we’re in now?

Ignoring me, William broke off sections of the opening to allow enough room to pass. Come on. We’ll blame it on somebody else.

You’re terribly cavalier about vandalizing a potentially valuable archaeological site. This is wholly unprofessional.

Yeah, blah, blah … sue me. You were gonna do the same, and don’t pretend you weren’t. You sneaking off to explore. You knew there was stuff here.

I did not. I’m on my lunch break. Indignation had my shoulders back. You’re the one following me around. You’re like a stalker. It’s creepy.

He gave me a look, dust coating his nose. Are you gonna stand there and lecture me or are we gonna explore? There’s a decent sized room through here. I’m seeing artifacts. The floor’s littered with them.

Then we shouldn’t do another thing, until we map everything out. We can’t touch anything. If you find something, it needs to stay where it is. It has to be photographed and measured and—

I’m well aware of that. This is simply a scouting exercise. Quit gettin’ your panties in a bunch. Let’s check it out, Professor.

Jesus, I’m gonna regret this. You’re going to ruin my career.

"Well, I’m going in. He squeezed through the opening, promptly discoloring the back of his shirt with a smudge of dirt. Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about. He held up the phone, illuminating the interior. You need to come in here, Amy."

All right, I muttered, knowing I had just gotten myself into a world of trouble. What if I had come by myself? Would I have broken down the wall like William did? I didn’t want to believe I could be so bold, so careless, but perhaps curiosity would have won out. I squeezed through the opening, the edges scratching my arm. Ouch.

William held the light to the ceiling. Wow. Just frickin, wow.

We’ve totally contaminated the site. We’re probably crushing Clovis points beneath our feet as we speak. I’m in a heap of trouble now. I hope you’re happy when they fire my ass. I glared at him. You know I’m taking you down with me, don’t you?

Check this out. He pointed the light overhead.

I glanced at a ceiling filled with rock art. Holy shit. Stunned, I stared at the paintings, not believing my eyes.

He chuckled, Wow. That just … blows my damn socks off.

They have to know about this. There’s no way this has gone unseen.

It wasn’t on the map.

Reaching into a pocket, I withdrew my phone, knowing I would drain the battery in the process. The light helped to illuminate the ceiling. From one end to the other, there were drawings of stick men and animals; the scenes depicted were familiar, as I had done a fair amount of research on rock art during the Clovis period. I recognized a drawing of a mastodon and what appeared to be a camel.

This is unbelievable, said William. Keep it lit up. I’m gonna take some pictures.

I did as he asked, too stunned to say anything, my eyes scanning the images. Several flashes went off. I glanced at the dusty floor worried I might be stepping on artifacts. The tips of what I thought might be Clovis points jutted from the dirt.

Hey, hold up the light, would you?

Sorry, I murmured, pointing the phone upward. The drawings are just amazing. I can’t believe how finely done they are. They’re clearly hunting and herding. I see weapons.

It’s outrageous. He took a series of pictures.

We have to tell Professor Pine about this. I’m worried about you breaking the wall, though.

Lie, and say we found it like that.

I gave him a look, irritated, but he faced the other direction, so he didn’t see it. He knelt, examining the soil near his shoes. The spear tips look like they’re obsidian and jasper. There’s quite a variety here.

The site’s been compromised. I examined the drawings overhead. It’s all probably bullshit. No wonder the pictures are so good, so fresh-looking.

What do you mean? He got to his feet, approaching. You find something?

Yeah, I said bitterly, looking at what someone had drawn above my head. Check that out. I pointed the flashlight at an image. Clovis man didn’t have a Twitter account.

What?

Look. The light fell on writing that read, @JanetArt.

William’s mouth fell open. What the hell?

There’s another one too. See. I illuminated a second one, which read, @BLutz. Someone’s idea of a joke, I guess.

Good catch. I didn’t see those.

I took a few pictures, not amused by the graffiti.

But … He scratched his head.

What? I glanced at my phone, as the images filled the screen. That was when I noticed a date as well. It said, 3-5-12.

This is a Clovis site. We’re looking at a debris field. This stuff is authentic, Amy.

We can’t know that until we test it. I’ve got a feeling someone is playing a sick joke. They came in here and scribbled all over the walls. Then they left their Twitter usernames. It’s all bullshit.

I don’t know. We were the first to break down the wall. The room had been sealed. He frowned, pacing back and forth with his hands on his hips.

But who’s going to believe that? You shouldn’t have knocked it down. There’s no way to prove it had been sealed. He continued to shuffle around. You’re disturbing the floor.

This can’t all be a hoax. I’ve seen enough Clovis points to know these are real. The drawings are real.

They’ll need to be carbon dated. I slid the phone into my pocket. I can’t believe some idiot would do that.

Yeah, that was dumb.

I’ll find out who it is. They were stupid enough to leave their usernames behind. Tracking them down should be a piece of cake.

Teenagers.

Yeah.

But we still found something. Professor Pine’s gonna shit a brick when he sees this place.

That worried me, because of the damage we had caused. Let’s not … let’s not tell him just yet. You take the Clovis point, and I’ll find out who the vandalizing clowns are. Let’s keep this quiet for a bit.

He grinned. Good idea.

Chapter Two

March 5, 2012

My phone rang just as I cleared security at the small, private jet terminal in Teterboro. Hey, Brian.

Janet. You haven’t left yet?

No, we’re heading for the plane now. I held the phone in the crook of my neck, while I tucked the passport into a handbag. Rush hour traffic was a bitch. I caught sight of myself in a wall of mirrors, seeing a heavyset woman with long, dark hair. I’ve got some news. Megan’s getting married.

Congrats for her, but I’m not surprised.

Mom’s gonna freak out, cause that’s two weddings! Both her girls are getting married. A diamond ring sparkled on my left hand. She’s gonna sweat bullets trying to plan everything. I spied Martha Lopez by the security door with our photographer, Philip Fey. Crap, I gotta go soon.

I just wanted to say goodbye before you got on the plane.

I’m glad you called. A clap of thunder sounded overhead. It’s raining. It’s coming down in buckets. I approached Martha, who seemed hesitant to leave the building, staring at the rain on the other side of the window. A large, black handbag hung from her arm, while a small suitcase stood by her feet. Hey, Martha.

See you made it. We’re waiting for the models. She made a face. Why can’t they ever be on time?

Traffic was bad. I glanced at my phone. Brian, I’ll text you before I take off.

I know you’re busy.

I love you.

I love you, Janet.

We hadn’t been engaged for more than twenty-four hours. The excitement of the event lingered. I grinned broadly. We might have to elope. Mom would die planning two weddings.

Don’t worry about it now. I’ll let you go. You be safe. I’ll see you in three days.

Don’t forget the gala on Friday. I’ve got a dress showing up at the apartment.

I’ll take care of it.

The rain continued, the tarmac glistening. I’m going to miss you.

It’s just a few days. Love you bunches.

I’ll talk to ya later.

Okay, he said, the line cutting out.

I glanced at Martha. Who’s missing?

Everyone. Her look soured. They’re all late.

A grouping of seats had been arranged nearby. Let’s wait here. I’m not dying to go out there right now.

I’m texting Stuart. He should be here. He was the company publicist.

Go ahead; much good it’ll do.

They had hired me as the make up artist for the high-end catalogue shoot. The clothing came from a well-known haute couture designer. We would be in Miami for three days, with several models in tow. While browsing through emails, people began to arrive, one person dressed in a pilot’s uniform.

Oh, good, I murmured. We’re gonna need you, buddy.

The pilot grinned. Good evening.

Hi.

He left the building a moment later, stepping into the rain.

Caroline Gagnon approached, her hair damp. Well, that sucked. She sat next to me. Where is everyone?

Looks like the girls are here. I spied Claire McBride and Selma, who went only by her first name. Our photographer, Phil, sat a few seats away, digging through an enormous camera bag. We’re waiting on Carl and Stuart. Monika also.

Let’s hope the weather’s better in Miami, said Martha.

I deleted a few junk emails. It’s gotta be. I’m so sick of rain. Female giggling caught my attention, the models taking selfies.

I wanted to congratulate you on your engagement. I heard about it this morning.

Thanks.

You guys have been dating a while, haven’t you?

Two years. I grinned, feeling happy and content and excited to embark on this new adventure. My sister just got engaged too. My mom’s gonna be so stressed out. She doesn’t know about Megan yet.

You could do a double wedding.

Brian and I will probably elope or do something small. I like low-key stuff. I don’t want to spend a fortune or make a fuss.

Very practical.

Carl appeared, having passed through security. Monika and Stuart came up behind him. Looks like the gang’s here.

Caroline glanced over her shoulder. Time to board, I guess. Wish I brought an umbrella.

I don’t have one either.

Is it safe to fly?

Why wouldn't it be?

It’s raining.

That’s no big deal. I shoved the phone in a pocket. Planes take off in rain all the time.

Okay, folks, said Carl. Let’s hit the road. We’re about an hour late as it is. He scanned the faces, nodding. Looks like we got everybody. Are we missing anyone?

No, sir, said Martha.

Head on out. A sliding glass door opened for him, as he exited the building.

We followed in the rain, traipsing towards a private jet, which the company hired for our transportation. I had traveled on these before, working for some of the best designers and make up companies in the fashion industry. I loved my job, but it required I travel often. I longed to find work closer to home, but that was impossible in this line of business.

A soaking red carpet lay before a set of stairs, Carl and Stuart taking them, while bowing their heads in the rain. The rest of us tramped onward, subjected to the downpour. The models hid beneath hoodies, while Martha held a handbag over her head. Once inside, we ambled down a tiny aisle, finding seating on either side. The aircraft wasn’t as luxurious as others I had traveled on, but flying private was still a vast improvement to cattle car.

I sat next to Martha, who was our location scout. I had worked with her on several shoots in the past. God, I’m wet. The vent over my head blew cold air, and I shivered.

We can ask for blankets.

I hope so.

The models sat together, chatting non-stop and taking photos. Claire McBride was an up-and-comer, having appeared in Italian Vogue last month and the cover of

Reviews for Caveman

[Sheena Gurbakhash · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Very interesting premise. There are two threads in the story and the switch between past and present is well done.
Looking forward to part 2. It will be interesting to see how the two threads intersect.