Champ

By Scott James Thomas

Champ breathed hard as she forced her legs to pump despite the pain. The men were slow, but not so far behind. Ahead were the taller buildings of the ruins, which were only getting closer.

Jafe called out to her again, “Hey Champ, we only want to talk!”

She didn’t pause, but the repeated cry of peace gave her hope, clearly Jafe was concerned she would escape as the ground became flatter and the trees thinner.

A minute later she passed the first of the old ruins, which most people would never approach. She glanced behind her but couldn’t see her pursuers, who had either given up or were biding their time, waiting for her to emerge from the ruins.

Champ considered entering one of the burnt buildings, but kept penetrating deeper into the old gigantic village. She slowed to a walk as she passed by the towers that seemed like black fingers that once tried to reach for the stars, but had become broken and burnt from the angry sun when they got too high.

Champ didn’t take a straight path but took a twisting path in case the men were still following her. However, it appeared she was by herself.

Deep in the ruins, Champ turned a corner and froze, seeing something she had rarely seen, and never so close – a zombie ship! It was shiny like her knife, standing on three stout legs in an open meadow. A door to it was open.

She crouched and quickly slipped behind a nearby bush to examine the large shining building, which she knew could fly. She breathed hard, trying to capture all the details in her mind.

Suddenly a zombie appeared in the ship’s opening. The female creature had long yellow hair like hers, but dressed oddly. The zombie pointed a strange looking stick directly at her. The stick made a little popping noise and a moment later there was a sting in her arm. Champ quickly looked down to see that a large red bug had attacked her. She slapped the strange bug from her arm, which had had a painful bite.

She looked at the bug lying on the ground – it was no bug. As Champ looked, she felt dizzy, the world spun once again and she collapsed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Scott James Thomas
• Release date: Jul 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463012239

Scott James Thomas

Dr. Scott James Thomas has traveled the world as an exploration geophysicist, exploring remote locations in the search for critical minerals for society.He received his bachelors of science in geophysics from Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, then his Masters and Doctorate from the University of Arizona in Tucson.He enjoys nature and creating, but since he can't draw, he writes. He favors sci-fi, but mostly his stories revolve around human interactions and life changes. His first novel was the sci-fi trilogy Darkmatter, which was started before E-Books existed. His second was Sakuya Stood In The Road, a fantasy fan-lit piece.Afterward was: Champ, Valkiree, The Elf War, and lately the Black Magic series.Scott currently lives in the Denver suburbs of Colorado.

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CHAMP

Scott James Thomas

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Published By:

Scott James Thomas on Smashwords, December 2022

Cover image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

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License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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CHAMP

Chapter 1

Champ sat on a rock and stared into the village fire. The small morning fire had died to only a few flickers of flames that lingered over the glowing coals. Breakfast was done.

Most others who had gathered around the morning fire had already wandered away, off to mind their gardens or to harvest fruits and nuts that grew in the area. Some would check their snares for squirrel or possum that might have been caught the previous evening.

It was the usual ritual around the fire pit. The morning talk came and went, nobody had much to say to Champ, which was fine with her. She had nothing to say, no dreams to share with the other women, or ideas about where to move camp to next, as was oft discussed by a few elder men amongst themselves.

The fire was the center of the dispersed huts and gardens. It was where the elder men would converse with Dulana, the chief, about village matters. They would talk about such things as moving the village, which was becoming a pressing topic.

Champ’s hut was further from the fire, on the outskirts of the village. The chief and the elders had huts close to the fire – they were important people.

Champ had her garden right in front of her hut so she could keep an eye on it. It was larger than most gardens since she found it paid to be prepared. If a pig or a deer got into it, she knew nobody would offer her so much as an onion to soften the loss. She didn’t bother to set traps in the forest for meat – anything she caught would likely be stolen by others.

Champ thought back to her mother, who had always been old. They would sit together around the morning and evening fire. Her mother was the only one who had ever sat with her. No man ever had, even though she had a big garden. Soon she too would be old, and then it wouldn’t matter if a man ever sat with her or not.

The fire was small. Collecting dry wood for it was requiring longer trips out into the woods.

The tribe had already been at the site for two years, fall was coming, it was time to move, and a year overdue. The ground around the fire was dark with old ash and the grass throughout the village was trampled. Out in the forest, nuts and berries were harder to find. Like the village site, she too grew old. She was overdue for finding a man who actually wanted her, perhaps one from another tribe might come. But she was too different – always had been – it had sealed her fate.

Champ had lived with being shunned her entire life. It was just how things were, she couldn’t fight it.

The women were the worse. The men would look at her then turn away, but the women would exchange scowls with her. If any man did want her, she’d be seen as nothing but a thief, taking a man who she shouldn’t be allowed to have.

There were four times as many people in her village as she had fingers and toes, and not one could she call a friend.

A noise caused her to lift her head and she saw Jafe sitting on his mat, looking at her from the other side of the fire with a sly grin. She frowned at the young man – she had not been careful. Mornings were not usually the worst time, but apparently, Jafe had not yet relieved himself of his morning urge.

The grin on his face said it all, as it often did on many of the young and older men of the village. Jafe didn’t want to be her friend, he was just looking for a trophy, something to brag to his friends about.

Champ looked around, a few children were running about and some women were minding their gardens. A woman she knew, Jazine, looked up at her with a disapproving frown.

Champ turned back to Jafe, he knew the village fire was not the place to be speaking to her. He was taking his chances. If his mom saw him he’d get a good scolding. Jafe could defend himself by simply saying that he was teasing her, and it would be the truth .

She sneered at him as she stood and spat, Go hump a tree.

The man rose to his feet and challenged, in a pleading way, Aw, com’n Champ, why fight it?

She reached down to her waist belt, bringing out her shining knife to display with a warning grin.

The man, taking heed of the sharp edge, sneered, You’re such a bitch, ya know that? Someday I’m gonna teach you a lesson! He stood and added with a scowl, One you ain’t gonna forget!

Champ just humphed as she put the knife away. Jafe wasn’t so tough, he was kind of cute even, like a puppy dog. She scoffed her reply, In your dreams boy.

Champ turned to head back to her hut. With her back to Jafe, she knew he would feel braver and, as expected, he took a step closer and said, You better watch yourself, I ain’t the only one who wants a piece!

She looked at him over her shoulder, taunting, A piece of what? My knife?

You know what I mean, he angrily replied. I ain’t the only one and you can’t wait forever!

Champ continued walking away, but frowned at the thought that Jafe had made was a harsh point that stung – she was well of age, late even. Way late. But the thought of laying with any of the village men left her with only a bad mood – they only wanted to play with her, make her scream then be done with her. None of the men liked her and she knew why, she was different in just about every way possible. She was too skinny, too white, too weird – she was, after all, a zombie.

I’m willing to give it a try! she defiantly yelled back. But that wasn’t how she felt. Perhaps someday a man from another tribe, looking for a wife, would come and select her, but none ever had. None ever would.

Once back at her thatch hut, a bit miffed, she stepped in and tossed her food bowl toward a corner so she was less likely to step on it later. It took half a day to weave a new one, and she knew from experience that nobody would loan her one.

Champ grabbed her pig-skin bag and walked down to the creek to fill it. She was one of the last to do so, carrying the water back to her garden where she carefully gave each of her plants a drink. As she went along the row of tomatoes, she noticed a tomato missing, a big red one that she had let ripen an extra day before harvesting.

With disgust, Champ fingered the stem she knew the ripe red fruit had hung from as she looked around at her other plants for signs of thievery, not finding any. She should have been more careful, the tomato was big and red, just waiting to be stolen.

She angrily stood and looked at the nearby huts. There were a dozen who might have taken her best tomato. Probably a woman, one who did it just to be mean. Topping her quick mental list was Jazine, over on the other side of the village. Even if Jazine didn’t take it, she would have wanted to, out of spite if nothing else.

Champ made sure her knife was securely tucked in her waist pelt, then marched to her enemy’s hut. Jazine was working her own garden soil with a stick. Jazine was a few years younger than Champ, and strong. But Champ had butted heads with her before. She knew that if she didn’t make Jazine pay, another tomato would be gone tomorrow morning. Champ angrily snapped, You took a tomato from my garden!

Jazine, having seen Champ’s angry approach, was already on her feet ready for the antagonistic encounter. She glanced around before replying, Says who!

Says me! Champ shot back, not breaking stride.

Go away, nobody cares about you! Jazine retorted defiantly. You just one person, you don’t need no big garden. Hell, you got no husband or child. Ain’t gonna get one neither!

Champ menacingly stepped to face Jazine and demanded, Says who?

Says everyone! You gonna die if you get a child in you!

Champ crossed her arms, the words smarted – she knew her hips were small. She had heard of women who died trying to give birth, even her mother had warned her long ago.

That doesn’t matter! Champ blasted then pointed to Jazine and accused, You stole my tomato!

Prove it! Jazine shot back, slapping Champ’s finger away.

Champ looked around. People were starting to come out of the huts to see what the commotion was about. Most men were out hunting, most women were gathering, but the morning was young, many small children and older women were about. She loudly declared to the loose observers, A tomato was stolen of mine! Jazine took it!

Did not! Jazine shouted to the approaching spectators in defense.

Did too! Champ shouted and marched toward Jazine’s hut, figuring it would be there.

Jazine quickly leapt forward