Quietly, Quiggly stepped into the darkness as he stealthily approached and steeled himself for the attack. He wanted the kill. If he got enough of them he'd have a steady supply. The sound of the attack came in a sudden rush, and Quiggly leapt back just as the claws struck him and sent him flying through the air. He landed on the ground on all fours and turned on his attacker, who had followed close behind him, just as the creature let out a fearsome howl. Then, turning to run as if possessed by some greater demon, the howling creature stumbled into a sharp, triangular-shaped black rock that stabbed out of the ground as it tripped over it. Its howl became a scream of pain as it fell into the sharpened ground. It landed in a heap with a thud, but still managed to get to its feet, claws skittering wildly as it attempted to get away. Its scream stopped abruptly, and a small whimper, perhaps of shock, came from its throat as the rock rose up behind it and then plunged into its head, slaying the beast instantly. Reeling from the horror that he had just witnessed, Quiggly turned to face the rock, now risen to his full height, and as he did he could feel the blood flowing from his back and through his body, pooling in his feet. His body had been pierced by the black rock's long spike. For a moment, the demon felt a mixture of hatred and a sense of pride in the killing that he had just done. But then as the pain in his body subsided, the demon once again felt fear that he would not be able to survive the pain. For a moment the demon felt despair, until the rage, which he knew always gave him the energy to survive, returned. He moved forward slowly, placing each step in the most careful way possible, for he did not want to attract any attention, or invite another attack. In the growing light he could see the rock in his body now with a clarity that filled him with dread. He did not want to die! A few yards away lay a pile of rocks that had obviously been placed there for a different purpose, perhaps as a marker for where a well was or the like. Quiggly had learned through the years that if one wanted to keep from being tracked, stones could be easily set aside and then left, only to be found at some later time and used to mark where something was, even how someone was killed. For now, Quiggly knew he'd get no help in setting down his load of stolen food, which he hadn't even had time to enjoy before he had felt the pain from the poisoned arrow that had pierced his back and sent him falling to the ground. Now he began to move his body away from the pile of rocks and hide in the deep, dark places that the rocks left behind. He did not want to get caught. He needed to rest in safety, perhaps long enough for his body to heal. Injured by the arrow and weakened by hunger, Quiggly knew he could not possibly survive this mission alone, but he also knew he would not survive to try it with others if he returned home. So he hid himself as best he could in the crevices between the rocks, and awaited the night. For the next day and into the night he watched and waited, constantly keeping his body still. He had nothing to eat, and the wound in his back continued to send sharp bursts of pain down his legs. His body cried out constantly for food, but he knew there would be none. He was beginning to feel his body weaken from lack of food and rest, yet he could see no way for him to survive without one or the other. After the long, dark day, when the sun finally set and the moon rose, he watched the moon rise and then noticed that the rocks began to glow as it rose, brightening the rocks. Soon the rocks seemed to grow large and he understood that the black rocks were slowly growing and were not rocks at all, but rather huge creatures of the wild that only Quiggly and some other members of his tribe had ever heard of. The creatures would now be awake. Quiggly could feel the pain in his back and shoulders now as his head started to clear from the effects of the poisoned arrow. He knew he was a dead man. How many have they now killed? The pain was not good. And food! Would there be food? Quiggly felt a growing hunger in his belly as he lay and tried to rest, all the while wondering how many of the beasts there might be. # Chapter 7 Quiggly's stomach ached for food. The pain grew and grew. He had felt hungry for days, but now he felt the desperation of a starving animal. He needed food, and that meant hunting. For a moment, he wondered if he should go back the way he had come and try to find some food by robbing the human beings, but then he considered that their weapons could kill him as well. Instead, he moved off in the direction of the village. Quiggly did not know where he was, nor did he know exactly where the village was, but he knew he must be close, for the pain in his back and the hunger would not last long. Quiggly decided that he would make the effort to get home, even if it took many weeks to do so. He knew if he didn't do so, he would die. Death was easy to imagine, but getting there was a risk he was willing to take. As the moon rose into the night sky, Quiggly found himself heading east. He moved quietly, afraid that any movement might attract the other beasts. He still felt weak from hunger, but Quiggly felt that he could reach the village in the early morning if he made good time. If only he could make his stomach stop aching. He had not eaten all day. He did not think it would make much difference anyway, for he had tasted the blood of the man that he had killed the day before, and it had filled him up for hours. When he thought of the meal, he felt the hunger more keenly. He needed to eat. There were no plants or animals in the land to eat. His tribe had once again forgotten the ways of eating the earth and living with the spirits of the land. They had now lived in this place for more than five hundred years, but could no longer find their way to the wisdom that was their birthright, and Quiggly often wondered whether they would ever find their way back to their old ways. It was his responsibility as a member of the tribe to return, but he no longer knew if he would ever return home. And besides, he really didn't know how they would treat him after he told them about the sickness that destroyed so much of the land. The tribe no longer went on the hunt to find game, but instead lived on stored seeds and what the humans in the cities and towns would give them. The humans didn't have the patience or the skills to farm, and their crops seldom lasted long before they had to be renewed. When the tribe needed food, they would pay the humans for seeds, water and work. It was a strange exchange. The humans traded grain and vegetables for the little money they could grow, or the labor that they could get out of the people. They didn't work like the tribe at all. That was how they found things to eat when their own stored seeds ran out. The tribe ate the stored grains as a last resort. The grain had to be fed to the people, and the grain came from what the tribe had left behind in the cities and towns. What the tribe gained from the people was a very small amount of grain and seeds, as well as a few of the fruits and vegetables that they would not grow or make. But the people had many good things to eat. Not only did they eat the stored grain, but they also ate much meat and fish, eggs, and beans. This satisfied most of the people, especially the women and children, who did not work hard and so didn't need as much food, especially food that grew in the ground. The men and boys worked hard, but the women had some of the easiest jobs and still had the time to be lazy and be around the people, while the men had to work very hard for very little of the fruits and vegetables that the men ate. Quiggly wondered how many men in the tribe would return to their homes. How would he be received by his people after the news that he had brought? If they did not believe him, his life would be forfeited. But Quiggly also knew that he needed more food to feed his body and that he must hurry to the village if he wanted to survive. The longer he delayed, the weaker he would get and the more difficult it would be for him to survive. Quiggly knew the time had come for him to rejoin his people, and his tribe. If he survived at all, he would be accepted as a lost brother, for he had also gone off in search of his kind and had come back. The other members of the tribe would look upon him now with a mix of pride in what he had done and wonderment at how he managed to survive. His status as a lost brother would be questioned, and it might take him many years to regain the goodwill of his tribe. It was all a big responsibility, but one that he accepted with honor and pride. All the same, he needed to get to