Sacrifice by Erik Schutzman

SECOND PLACE

Sacrifice by Erik Schutzman

In a stone shelter at the base of a cliff gathers Chakka’s tribe. Centuries of wind and water erosion created this oasis hidden from view. There are many massive stone shelters like this one throughout the foothills, but an available one like this is hard to find. Rival tribes, or a large animal usually occupy them, and they can only be taken with a fight. Chakka’s tribe was fortunate to have found this one unoccupied. Best to avoid a fight when you can.

Jungle vines hang from the edge of the shelter like a curtain giving them some concealment. Trees sway beyond the vine curtain in the constant gale. The roof angles up hundreds of heights high like a cathedral. Too far to touch, but several adolescents have managed to climb the vines to precarious heights as their parents watched from below. The space is so wide, it would take their fastest runner several minutes to go from one end to the other. It smells of damp freshness and mushrooms. A waterfall trickles water into a pool at the center. That area is reserved for the elders and the chief. Children run and play in a grassy area where sun shines through the hole above created by the waterfall. The young adult males and females camp at the outer edge near the opening to keep watch and protect against attacks. On top of a hill next to the pool, a fire roars. Around it sit large stone form seats where the elders gather and talk. Smoke crawls up the angled ceiling and filters through cracks.

A crowd has gathered in front of the fire. Elders watch intently.

Chakka and Chee stand before the warmth of the bonfire and face the crowd. Chakka flails his arms. “It was like dream. I flew like a bird.” He moves his hand through the air. “A magical feeling overcame me. A place called to me.” He points up. “The haven of our forefathers in the sky among the clouds. There was a bright, foggy light. I felt at peace. However, this place has new feeling. This place not have feeling of familiarity, but of alien… weird feelings. Cold like snow. Quiet. No scents. I lay on back and three godlike creatures look down at me. Thin like white trees… large heads.” Chakka motions his hands around his head to indicate how big they were. “Large, black eyes studied me… gentle hands explored skin. Motionless mouths spoke strange words that sounded like the singing of the grass plain birds, but more magical. These are not like anything seen before.”

Children gasp. Adults look at each other and chatter. Chakka spins around to study the reaction of the council sitting around the fire. They look back with skepticism. He spins back to the crowd, see excitement in their eyes. He walks to a large stone and draws the aliens with white chalk. Silence overcomes the shelter. Water dripping in the pool echoes.

“White light above.” He draws the light shining down on the aliens. He spins and gestures wildly. “White stone ground. Fruit. Odd forces… like someone else controlled me. I feel touch on shoulder where there is no hand. They poked and pulled at me. They make things appear… disappear. The glowing ball!”

Chakka holds up a crystal globe. Chee yanks the ball from him and wraps her arms around it. A gasp flows over the crowd. Whispering side conversations spread.

Chakka feels the energy of attention. He is important. Safin stands at the back of the crowd, arms crossed.

“Dakma!” shouts Chakka as he holds up his hands like claws. The crowd leaps back. “I was alone facing Dakma. He stalked forward…” Chakka stalks toward the crowd. They back up in fear. “The beast came from the shadows into the light. I step back on spear. How is a spear there? I pick up spear and will go for its eyes first. Then I thought, where is my tribe? I cannot face it alone. Then, Dakma disappeared. Gone as fast as appeared.

“I was alone under a light like one after sunset. It was blue. I looked in the shadows around me for long time. Something was in the shadows. Could not see it, but could feel it. You know the feeling when something watches you in jungle. Then… it came.” Chakka holds his hands menacingly. “The Hooba!” Children scream and run.

“No!” shouts Safin. He pushes his way through the crowd to the front. “Hooba not around in many cycles. No Hooba here. We left it behind when we moved here. Now stop with these false stories.”

“No. Hooba not here,” says Chakka. He points to the sky. “Hooba there. I have only seen the Hooba once when hunting. You were there.” He points to his friends, Bint and Boll. They nod in agreement.

Bint whispers something to Boll, then looks to the ground, shaking his head.

“We sat for long time in forest when hunting,” yells Chakka. “Quiet,” he whispers. “Hooba came out of ground, look around, then go back. Gray head and hands, no hair. Orange eyes. Lightening flowed over black body. That is what I saw in room with white floor. The Hooba snatched Chee and I.”

Safin grumbles, “What about white tree people? Now you saw Hooba? Which is it?”

Stumped, Chakka pinches his chin. “I saw both. Tree people like a dream. Hooba was real. He stood in front of me.”

“If it was Hooba, why they return you?” Safin shouts, suspicion in his eyes. “No one ever return when Hooba takes them. Why you?”

Chakka looks to Chee and shakes his head., “Not know?”

“I tell you why. It was not Hooba. It was something else. I saw when you disappeared. Hooba not in sky… Hooba underground. The white tree people you saw, that is what took you and Chee… not Hooba. We hunt tree people. Not need another menace haunting us.”

Chakka looks at Safin. “You have good point. White tree people looked at me. Then I under light. That is where Hooba was. Then he disappeared and I wake up in jungle.” He points. “Over there.”

Safin points at the wooden cart with wheels. “What is this?” The crowd’s attention shifts to him.

“I do not know,” says Chakka. “Found it in forest. Maybe tree people give to us.” He pulls the handle. “See, circles move. Easier than poles.”

A curious crowd of hands explore the cart.“Well,” says Safin. “Now, we have tree people taking us. Hooba taking us. Dakma hunting us.”

“But white tree people return us,” says Chakka. He senses Safin’s jealousy. He wants the attention. He will steal it anyway he can.

A loud tap, tap echoes through the shelter. All eyes turn to the Chief seated on the other side of the fire, his staff pounding onto the ground. His booming voice echoes, “We must not allow Hooba to find us here in our new home. We cannot be found.” He points to Chakka., “You bring trouble. I do not know what you four were doing… “He points at Chakka, Safin, Bint, and Boll. “ ...but it sounds like dream.” He looks to the elders. “Too much leaf.” The elders chuckle. “I do not know if what you say is real, but if Hooba knows where we are now, we need to make sacrifice. To keep Hooba away, we make sacrifice.”

The crowd murmurs. Energy evaporates. Sad eyes are on Chakka. He turns to the Chief. He knows he must make amends. “My fault . What must I do to make amends?”

“You will make the sacrifice,” the Chief says. “Safin will lead a party to the pyramid. Bint and Boll will go as well. Recruit others. Not too many. Keep it small.”

Chakka turns to look at Bint and Boll. His heart sinks. They look back, anger in their eyes for Chakka. They do not want to go into the forest to the Hooba’s home and possibly be hunted by the Dakma. He has put them in a dangerous situation. Chakka spins. “No. I go alone,”

The Chief raises an eyebrow. He looks to the back of the crowd and taps his staff. From the back walks a mother holding a baby close to her breast. It is Sira, a close friend of Chakka’s. She looks back, a tear in her eye. She is widowed by a Dakma attack and Chakka has stepped in to help raise her children.

Anger flows through Chakka. He spins and shouts, “No!”The Chief leans back and raises his eyebrows. “You will make sacrifice.”The eyes that were locked on Chakka now water and look down. Heads drop.

“Go now,” says Safin to the crowd. “Enough of story time. Go back to your work.” The crowd obeys and shuffles away to their space under the stone shelter. The Chief looks to the elders and they file away in order after him.

The chief glares at Safin and Chakka as he approaches with a knife. “This is the sacrificial knife.” He places it in Chakka’s hand. “With this you will make sacrifice.” He places a hand on Chakka’s shoulder and nods encouragingly. The council of elders follows. They all pat Chakka’s shoulder as they pass.

Chakka has never held the relic. He studies the knife. Transparent blade like water, Unbreakable and never needs to be sharpened. The knife holds magical qualities. He must protect it with his life.

Safin and Chakka watch the crowd leave. Chee puts the globe in the cart.Safin studies the crystal ball. “What is it?”

“I do not know,” says Chakka. “Never seen such a thing. Rolled to me from the shadow, then disappeared. I found it when I woke up in the jungle. It was in the cart.”

“It looks like Makka’s eye,” says Chee.

“Makka’s eye,” Chakka says. “That we call it. What we do with it?” Just then, it glows orange from within. Chakka looks at it in amazement. He rests a hand on it, which warms and gives him comfort. He looks at Chee and Safin. “Touch it!”

Chee touches it and smiles. “Magic,.” she says with awe.Safin lays a hand on it and grunts. A smile cracks his face.“Come, we take it home,” says Chakka.

Chee pulls the cart and the wheels squeak. “See. Easier,” she says. She admires it as if she made it herself.

Safin stops Chakka with a hand on his chest. He growls through clenched teeth, “Your children alone, your mother worry.”

“I was just gone a short time. Why angry?”“You gone seven cycles.”Chakka’s jaw drops. “I just gone short time.”

“No,” says Safin. “I know not what game play you.” He squints. “I challenged my father just to find you two and hunt whatever took you, and you just return like nothing happen? Now we make sacrifice? One of us must die, because you disappear and bring trouble. Now I must lead us down jungle pyramid road. You know what hunts that road. We all put in danger for this sacrifice, because of you two.”

Chakka stutters, “I… we did not choose for this to happen. It happened to us. I do not know where I was. It felt like only a short time… one light cycle. I do not know if it was real.”

Chee puts a finger on Safin’s chest. “I had same dream. You think I lie.” She pushes the finger and Safin’s eyes light up as he backs away from her, but she pursues him, continuing to tap her finger on his chest. “How do we get such things from dreams… from imagination?” She points to the cart with the crystal ball.

Safin squints and studies the cart, then looks back to Chee. “No. I believe you.”“You saw it,” Chakka says. “You were there with me.”Safin stands close to Chakka. “I just want…”“I know. You not want to put others in danger. I am regretful of causing this for us.”

Safin steps close to Chakka, staring him directly in the eyes. Any other member of the tribe would be intimidated by such a display, but Chakka knows Safin better than even his own father. His threats are all for show. He is as gentle as they come, yet ambitious and will do anything to realize his aspirations. Even lie and steal. He will come for the crystal and Chakka will not allow him to have it.

Chakka stares back defiantly. Safin relaxes and backs away, looks at Chee, then back to Chakka. “I will leave you to say bye to Chee.”

Safin says, “Time to go recruit.”He marches to the vine curtain, throws it aside.

“I will return,” Chakka says to Chee. He drops his head, unable to look her in the eyes. “I bring shame.”

“No,” says Chee. She lifts his chin with her finger. “You did nothing. I will be here. Now go, recover your honor. Not for me, but for the elders. I am always here.”

Chakka’s heart warms. He smiles. “I will return.”

The trail stretches out before Chakka, Safin, and the rest of the party as they stalk toward the jungle pyramid. Safin leads in front of Chakka. Bint and Boll follow quietly behind, shielding Sira who holds her infant son, Sar. Zat, Shib, and Nost, who were recruited by Bint and Boll, follow Sira. The path is less open and clear than Chakka remembers. Fallen branches criss-cross the highway making for difficult passage. The jungle canopy waves and sways with the constant gale. The deafening rattle of leaves and whipping wind through branches drowns out their march.

Safin knows the highway as if it were the palm of his hand. Every turn, descent, and climb. He knows where an ambush is likely and good places for rest and shelter. What is unknown is whether the Dakma still hunts here. So far, they have seen no sign of them. The balance of the forest is favorable. Its inhabitants chatter in a harmonious chorus. Chakka stays vigilant, not only for the Dakma, but also for the Frego. The forest watchers that fly in flocks high in the canopy. If anything is out of place an alarm will spread throughout the valley. The Dakma is known to use the Frego to locate prey.

“How long will it take us to reach the pyramid?” says Sira. She will not hold anyone’s gaze and looks to the ground. Chakka’s gut wrenches. His own relatives have been sacrificed. He remembers the feeling of losing someone to sacrifice, but also knows the feeling of losing one to the Hooba. What the Hooba leaves behind demonstrates the brutality of the snatching. Blood and entrails left, and no sign of a body. Months later bones may appear, stripped of flesh. A horrible and less than honorable death.

“A half day,” Safin says. “We will return before the bigsun is down.”A whimper and a sniffle are all Sira can muster in response.

Boll and Bint run past Chakka, next to Safin. “What is our plan for the Dakma?” says Boll. “We only have seven plus Sira, who is useless.”

“We have enough. If chief is able to kill Dakma alone we can kill one.”“We are not as big as Chief… you are not,” Bint says.Safin sneers at him. “I am bigger than you.”Bint cowers and falls back next to Boll.

“Tell Zat left behind Sira, Shib right behind, and Nost last,” Safin says. “They remain vigilant at rear. We will remain in front. Me front, then Chakka. Boll behind me left, Bint right. If rear attack happens, those three hold spear wall toward attack. Bint flank left and charge, Boll flank right and charge, I launch spear from back. Chakka protects baby. If attack from front, switch tactics. We will rotate left and right for side attacks. Front holding the wall on both. Is good?”

Boll and Bint nod and relay the tactics to the rear.Safin nods to Chakka looking for approval. Chakka nods back in agreement. Chakka evaluates

the crew. Boll and Bint, two of the top warriors in the tribe. Their manes are not fully grown, but that does not matter. He has seen them fight and knows the mane is just for display. They will grow with time, and even challenge for Chief. Zat, Shib, and Nost are promising young fighters. They have each survived a moon cycle alone in the forest and taken down a full grown Bultipit to become adults. They can each take down something twice their size. The seven of them can kill a Dakma if they remain coordinated and keep their heads on top of their necks. If the Dakma hunt in a pack, that will be a different story. They will have to go to the trees. Hopefully they see only one, none would be better.

Safin stops and turns to the group. “This is the last spot we can speak openly. From here forward, only bird whistle and hand talk.” He makes the signal for “understand?”

They all signal “Yes.”

Two hours pass. Several game animals have been open for the taking, but this is not a hunt. Taking an animal now would only raise alarms and reveal their presence. Seeing game is a good sign the Dakma is not near. The signs indicate one has not been on this road for many moon cycles. But Safin knows that does not mean one is not here now. An easy trap to fall into while deep in the jungle.

Safin raises his fist to stop the party. A rock outcropping is ahead. He signals, “Rock, group, ahead. Approach, quiet. Clear, area, rest, eat.”

The group responds with subtle clicks of the mouth in acknowledgment. Safin signals Bint ahead to scout. The rest crouch down and hide. Bint disappears into the foliage. No sound or sign reveals which way he went. They wait.

Minutes pass.

Chakka studies Sira and the infant, Sar, wrapped in soft grass seed fluff and leather. He quietly sleeps as Sira caresses his head. Sira’s wet eyes shift up, locking on Chakka. A tear drops from her cheek. Chakka’s heart melts in her eyes. His breath catches. He thinks of his own children, nieces, nephews, and cousins. The entire tribe a family. He does not want to do this. Every cell in his body rejects the tradition, but he has no choice. If he defies the order, he puts the entire tribe at risk and he would be banished. Leaving him to fend for himself, or to start a new group with others that have also been banished. Not desirable either. They are alone for a reason. He must redeem himself.

A tap on the shoulder spins Chakka around. Safin points. In the gap of the rocks stands Bint who signals “Safe.”

Safin leads the groups quietly to the outcropping. The roads path is becoming less clear. Now fully overgrown. And this side path to the rocks is gone. Passing through thick foliage even more risky as sounds increase. Leaves brush, sticks snap, ground moves.

Safin takes up a spot with a good view of the valley below and pulls out a small ration of nuts and fruit. He signals to the group “Eat.” He signals for Bint to watch above, Boll to watch back down the road, the others to watch ahead on the road. Chakka sits next to Sira in the small shelter, hidden. All sides covered. The outcropping offers a view of the valley and surrounding area. Their scents carried above the forest floor. A safe spot for a stop.

Sira eats and feeds her baby without making eye contact with Chakka. Safin keeps looking back to her. They know the baby’s scent is an attractant to many predators, not just the Dakma.

Chakka watches Sari feed her baby. How odd it is that they protect and feed this child only to later take its life. Does not seem to make sense. This baby could easily be his own. Could be Safin’s. Safin must be agonizing as well. Sira is one of the many mates vying for Safin’s attention since she was widowed. Safin had spent a lot of time with Sira. Chakka knows he desires her as a mate, but the current events will put the entire possibility into question. She could not trust him, thus recall her desires for him. If he cannot protect her child, he has no use to her.

A flock of birds erupts from the trees just in front of the outcropping. Chakka looks to the tree, nothing visible. He then studies the floor below. He sees nothing, but something is off. Safin rushes air through his lips, short of a whistle. All of his warriors turn to him. He points down.

A leaf rustles. Not more than ten leaps away lurks a Dakma back down the trail they took. Their outcropping did its job. Their scent lingered in the valley and has been broken up by the climb upward. They wait as the Dakma passes, tracing their path. However, the Dakma will eventually realize he is losing the scent and double back, then catch the scent up the side trail. They are blocked from retreating back home. Their only safety lies in the stone pyramid. They need to move now.

Safin signals, “Let, pass. Caught, scent. Will, return. We, continue. Immediate.” He points, signals to Sira, and they quietly descend back to the road on the other side of the outcropping.

Upon hitting the trail, signs of the Dakma are apparent. A wide path is pushed through the leaves. Dirt overturn from sharp claws. It is alone and large. Full-grown from the signs. They know that the likelihood of another Dakma being in the area is slim if one this large is around, so they can pass with more confidence and move quickly. They know the Dakma avoids all of the Hooba dwellings, so if they can make it to the pyramid, they will be safe.

Safin signals to the group, “Make, pyramid, safe. Dakma, stay, away. Must, hurry.”

The group doubles their pace. They must still remain silent and avoid being spotted by the Frego. The longer it takes the Dakma to find their scent, the better their chance to make it to the pyramid. What they do after is yet to be decided.

An hour passes and they are making quick progress toward the pyramid. Chakka recognizes that the forest has gone silent, a sure sign the Dakma is near. Safin signals quickly over his shoulder, “Pyramid, close.”

They enter the ravine. A pool of water marks the beginning of the climb. Safin points and signals, “Trail, Up.” The group looks up the ravine, a steep and long climb over rocks and through the stream as it zigzags across the water and up the mountain. This will give them an advantage, breaking up the scent path and confusing the Dakma.

Safin barks quietly, “Go.”

He leads them in a sprint up the path. It shows signs of use from smaller animals. Both good and bad. The way is clear of obstacles, but many animals will be traveling on the path and drinking water from the stream. Speed is their only chance of getting to the waterfall entrance before the Dakma catches them.

They reach the first crossing. Safin stops the group with a fist held high, sniffs the air. Eder and Muskfish are about, but no predators or alarm callers. He waves them forward and sprints across the gap. Water splashes, but the falls mask the sound. He glances back as he runs. Chaka looks back. All safe across.

They climb a narrow path twisting through boulders and tree trunks. A prime spot for an ambush, but Safin does not stop.

The second crossing. A wide pool that only offers a way across at its outer edge on slippery rocks with a short leap to the other side. A narrow knife’s edge that is done with assistance, but time will not allow that. The crossing also exposes them to view from below. A risk they have to take. Chakka reaches for the baby and Sira pulls her child back. Chakka signals, “Give, baby. I, carry, across.” Sira pauses and Chakka frantically waves for her to do it. “You, cross, alone. Dangerous, carrying, child. I, carry.”

Sira gives Sar over. Chakka sprints carrying the infant in one arm, balancing with the other, and leaps to the others side. Boll follows, then Bint. Sira is next.

She slips on the rocks, sending scree falling into the stream below, leg hanging over

the edge.

From above a flock of Frego burst from the trees and their alarm echo down the valley.They have been spotted. The Dakma knows where they are now.

From below, a hooting bark of the Dakma sends birds flying from the trees. He is close.Safin shouts, “Go.”

Sira steadies herself, holding arms out to balance, reaches the crossing and leaps. Zat, Shib, and Nost easily cross and the group sprints up the path, Safin holding the baby.

They reach the third crossing, a well-covered, but rocky crossing that requires dexterity. No time to look back. The Frego follow the party and continue their alarm calls. Several swoop down tapping their heads with beaks.

They negotiate the third crossing and continue up the path.

A loud splash sounds from below. The Dakma has leapt into the pool and swims across. The waterfall above roars, it is close. One more crossing.

The terrain levels out and the forest opens up. The sky is visible from above and the Frego have left. A straight sprint to the next crossing.

The trail winds left over a knob, then down a drop. A short loop around the small gully, then the waterfall.

Safin leads them down the gully, leaps over the stream and begins to loop back from the back of the ravine—the waterfall in sight to his right.

Legs and lungs burning. Rushing blood roars through Chakka’s ears. He looks back. Sira struggles to hold the pace. Nost holds one of her arms. Chakka waves his arms to encourage them to move quicker.

They sprint, as quick as tired legs will allow them, to the waterfall and safety.

Chakka can smell the spray from the waterfall and the mildew of the damp cave behind. He makes it to the edge of the waterfalls and spins to wave Sira and Nost through.

Ten leaps away sprints a black shadow up the path toward them. Chakka’s body freezes. He cannot move his legs or his arms. Bint looks at Chakka, eyes grow wide, and spins to see the Dakma. Bunt shoves Sari to Zat and Shib and waves Nost to continue. He wedges his spear into the ground at his feet and crouches.

In a flash, the Dakma is on Bint with a lunge, takes the spear to the shoulder, and encloses Bint in one bite. The Dakma throws Bint up in the air and catches him, shakes his limp body and swallows him whole. The Dakma swats at the spears in its shoulder, breaking it off. Blood pours from the wound where the rest of the spear remains.

Safin shouts, “Into the waterfall!” Chakka hands Sari her child as she passes. Boll and Nost stand their ground, facing the beast. It pauses and studies the two. A gruesome snarl rattles Chakka’s chest as the beast circles to the side to cut them off from the waterfall. He’s not finished eating. Boll and Nost slide to the side with the Dakma blocking its flank, spears pointed at the creature.

The Dakma stalks forward, head lowered, and swats Nost with this right paw, sending him flying down the ravine. A blood curdling scream echoes through the forest. Boll launches forward sending his spear into the Dakma’s chest. The beast howls in agony and swats Boll with its left paw thrusting him into the rock face with a wet splat.

Chakka sees his opening on the beast’s left chest. Without hesitation, he launches his spear at the Dakma and hits with deadly accuracy, piercing the center of the Dakma’s chest.

The Dakma lurches back with a gurgling roar, landing on his back. The beast flails and rolls back on its haunches and sits up. Eyes locked on Chakka. It shudders, but remains standing.

Chakka is weaponless, his only protection is the cave behind the waterfall. As he tip toes backward, the Dakma limps forward, one arm curled at its chest. Heavy water chills Chakka’s shoulders and falls over his head as he backs under the waterfall. He sees the rippling shadow of the Dakma through the curtain of the waterfall. Chakka trips backward over a slippery rock and falls on his back. The dark shadow of the Dakma recedes and fades away.

Chakka leaps to his feet, and flounders up the greasy stone cave, eyes watching for another attack. He reaches the small opening and slides through. Panting and flopping feet echo in the dark tunnel. A light appears ahead. Warm, dry air. The scent of flowers. Sunlight.

Spread out before Chakka is the warm jungle bathed in sunlight. Hidden within the twisting and choking jungle is the entrance to the Hooba’s home. A massive door stands stark against the green jungle. Safin, Shib, Zat, and Sari wait with eyes wide. Sari hugs Sar tightly.

“Where are they?” says Shib. “Bint? Boll? Nost? Where are they?”

Chakka’s eyes well up. An emptiness opens up within him. There are no words to speak. He walks up and brings them together in a hug. Their arms reach around Chakka comforting him. They crouch and mourn together.

“The Dakma will not follow,” Chakka whispers. “We need to go to the pyramid… then take road back home. I do not think it will bother us anymore. We put stone and wood into its flesh. Its blood feeds the forest. He will not hunt us again.”

Safin holds the ceremonial sacrifice knife before him. It’s yellowing, clear blade glistening in the suns. “Come. We do what we came for. We do it in their honor.” Safin looks at Chakka with new respect.

They climb up the stairs to the black gate and to make their sacrifice.