Tor remained as immobile as a rock, expressionless. He’d entered some state of mind his son didn’t know about. The boy could only follow this example.
The storm was reaching a crescendo. Lightning fired directly after the peal of thunder. One bolt cracked against a tree nearby, splitting the trunk down the middle and scorching leaves as it burst into flames. It was then that Tor let go of his son’s hand. The boy’s fear rose to the level of terror.
Ayak thought of running but he could never leave his father behind. He had to trust the one who’d always been with him, the one who’d taught him everything he knew. His instinct to flee was held in check by a stronger force – the love for his protector.
Tor passed the handaxe back to his son, who immediately placed it into his pouch. The boy was operating on instinct alone. He was just doing what his mentor wanted him to do, although he didn’t understand what was happening.
The storm had already set a tree alight in the distance; now, it started a bush fire. Lightening had glanced off a rock into some nearby grass, sparking flames which were whipped up by gusts of hot wind sweeping across dried ground. The fire ripped through some bushes and then crawled up another tree trunk, igniting its leaves. Soon, a blaze was spreading, the flames jumping ever higher. The fire crackled and roared and rushed onwards. The rain was too light to overcome the stronger force of the blaze.
The two hunters could already feel the blast of heat. They saw rising waves of fire heading towards them. It was like a hungry monster eating everything in its path.
Tor grabbed his son’s hand and started running, abandoning his plan for the initiation. Suddenly, the plains seemed to come alive with fleeing animals running aimlessly in all directions.
CHAPTER THREE
LARGE PARTS of the grasslands were now ablaze. Suddenly, the habitat’s natural pecking order, which ruled life out on the savannah, no longer counted for anything. In flight and fear, animals and birds, predators and prey, were all equal. Now, only the fastest, or smartest, or luckiest would come out alive. Survival wasn’t about strength or size anymore. There was only one rule: respond or die. Animals or hominids who fell after being knocked down would be burnt alive.
Tor and Ayak, too, were caught up in the naked panic. They’d never seen such high flames, or felt such heat, before. It was also the worst stampede they’d ever experienced. In reality, it was more like a series of different stampedes, coming from all angles.
Even though Tor knew how to catch and use fire –a fallen branch could carry fire from a bush fire – this conflagration was simply too hot to approach, too big to control.
They were racing towards the valley – and its river – as fast as their little legs could go. But then they encountered some stray wildebeest streaking in the opposite direction. As the frightened animals bounded and careered past them, Tor was hit, losing his balance and his hold of Ayak. Just then, plumes of smoke blew across them. They could hear hooves and bellows and cries of animals in distress. More creatures flew past them.
Ayak screamed out for his father. More smoke, more heat, more animals in flight, more thunder and lightning. The ape-boy couldn’t think anymore. He only knew he was going to choke on the fumes swirling around him…or he might get trampled. He had to find air to breathe. He had to find a tree to get off the ground away from the mad animals. Only in a tree, out of the line of the fire, would he be safe. And he was sure the fire was going to swallow him alive at any moment.
The ape-boy was coughing and panting, stumbling around. It was then that his life changed forever.
As he got ahead of the swirling smoke, he found himself near a tall, twisted tree. The ground around it was stony and rocky. He wanted to catch his breath, so he paused for a moment. But that was when the ground gave way. At least, that’s how it felt. What was really happening was that he was slipping, sliding, falling. He could sense himself dropping down. He tried to find something on which to hold. He was disappearing into a hole into which roots of the tree were hanging. He grabbed a thick root but his hands couldn’t grip. He continued falling. Below him was black darkness, a big hole. The sky was falling away, too, above his head, as the ground gave way. By now, Ayak was slipping down so fast that he lost control. He found himself in mid-air, falling. At some point, a second or so after he began plummeting, he lost consciousness….
He awoke in a dark cavern, a narrow shaft of light tunnelling down the sinkhole through which he’d fallen. He was lying on sand next to some rocks. There was a sharp pain in his right shoulder which hurt even more when he tried to sit up. His shins were cut and bruised. His feet were bleeding.
At the bottom of the cave, he felt lost, exposed and confused. Where was he? What kind of dark place was this far under the ground? Had he fallen into the place where night itself lived? He wondered what creatures might lurk in such a strange den.
As well as being sore all over, he was so thirsty his mouth burned.
Ayak tried to get up. He was afraid that some beast might suddenly charge at him in the darkness.
The ape-boy forced himself to sit up, wincing when his injured shoulder hurt. Once he was sitting, he could look around. His eyes were slowly getting used to the darkness. The light from the top fell on some bones scattered over the ground. He noticed the handaxe had fallen out of his pouch. He picked it up and put it back in its holder.
There were scratching sounds somewhere. It was probably a small animal looking around for something to eat.
Ayak got to his feet. He caressed his shoulder to ease the sharp pains stabbing him. Looking up, he could just make out the long roots of the tree hanging into the cave. The acrid stench of smoke hung in the air. There was still some commotion above ground.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the dim interior light, he noticed pointed objects hanging down from the overhanging rock, as well as pillars on the floor that looked like the ant-hills where they’d sometimes caught termites. In one corner, the rather narrow cavern sloped downwards towards a section where there was no natural light whatsoever.
He scooped up some sand in his hands and let it slip softly back to the ground. This was softer than the red dirt of the ground, something he’d never felt before. He noticed some animal droppings, both old and recent, and concluded from their size that there weren’t any large predators living in the cave. Or so he hoped.
Just ahead of him were some bones and shells. He wondered if the bones were of animals which, like him, had fallen down the hole. He found a large femur bone which he thought could be useful for defending himself. There was also the broken horn of a buck which had obviously fallen headfirst down the cave hole and smashed its head on a rock. He added the horn to his set of weapons.
Ayak edged towards the blackness of the cave’s dark zone. He paused to allow his eyesight to adjust. He sniffed the air. He could smell water, although of a dank kind with a slightly acrid odour. A creature flew over his head, flapping its black wings so close to his face he could feel a gush of air against his cheeks. He exhaled sharply, unsure what to expect.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the light – or lack of it – he observed lots more of these peculiar black birds hanging upside down in rows from the roof of the cave.
To one side, a long, brownish snake slithered away quickly, as if afraid of him.
The ape-boy decided he’d try to escape from the cave by climbing up the rock face towards the source of light above. He would go out the way he’d come in. Although he was a very agile climber, used to mounting and ascending trees, the rock-like surface was too smooth to grip. He kept sliding backwards. Any paths there were, formed no doubt by the constant passage of animals, were grainy and sandy, adding to the difficulty of the ascent. Eventually, he was able to grab hold of some very long roots from the tree above the hole. Slowly, he hoisted himself closer to the light. The higher he climbed, the thicker the roots became.