CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
The wind whipped cold and fierce across the deck as Marty stood at the helm, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon. The air had a bite to it now, a sharp contrast to the humid jungles they had left behind weeks ago. The sails billowed above him, catching the strong gusts as their high-prowed vessels cut through the choppy waters of the southern Atlantic. The journey had been long, almost three weeks of endless ocean, and the men and women on board were weary, but there was a growing sense of anticipation as they neared their destination.
Marty pulled his cloak tighter against the chill of the early morning. It was one of the many patchwork creations made from various animal hides that the Neshili had prepared in response to the cooling weather. He had warned them that this place would be different, colder, harsher. The weather had been gradually cooling as they sailed south, but it wasn’t until dawn of this morning that someone had shouted from the lookout, their voice edged with awe and fear.
Squinting at the horizon, he spotted the first sign of what he’d been looking for—an iceberg, its massive white form floating serenely in the distance, a silent sentinel of the frigid waters they were entering.
Marty stared at it, his heart sinking and yet oddly exhilarated. An icy destination. It was exactly as he had envisioned. They were getting closer, maybe very close. He turned to the others on deck, a mix of former islanders and his own team, and gave the order. “Veer onto shore. It’s time to find a place for all of us to settle.”
The crew moved quickly, adjusting the sails and setting their course toward the distant shoreline that was just beginning to take shape against the graying sky. Marty kept his eyes on the land, his mind racing with the possibilities that lay ahead. This land was vast and wild, untouched by any civilization they knew of. This was where the Neshili would make their new home.
As they neared the coast, the full scope of the landscape came into view. Rolling plains stretched out before them, covered in tall grasses that swayed in the cool breeze. To the north, the land rose into rocky hills, their peaks dusted with snow. The sight was both beautiful and forbidding, a stark contrast to the lush jungles and warm beaches they had left behind.
The ship grounded softly on a pebbled beach, and Marty was the first to step ashore. The ground was firm beneath his feet, the air filled with the scent of salt and earth. He turned to the others, who were beginning to disembark, their faces a mix of relief and uncertainty.
Surjan hopped off the bow of the ship, splashing at the shore and grimacing. “The water is freezing!” He hopped onto the pebbly beach, put his arm over Marty’s shoulders, and whispered, “Is this where we start our journey to the beyond?”
“It is.” Marty nodded. “But we need to find a suitable site for the Neshili.”
Surjan turned to the nearest islander who’d just hopped onto shore and said, “Tell the other ships to moor near the shore. We need some warriors for an exploration team, and we will scout this place to find our new home.”
Without hesitation, the islander raced off to do what his king had requested.
As more of the island warriors gathered, Marty announced to the group, “We all return back to this spot before sundown. We are looking for somewhere with access to fresh water, native fruit, and good hunting grounds. We’ll split into groups and search the area.”
The Neshili formed their own search parties and moved out quickly, with one of the groups being led by Surjan. They all spread along the shoreline and into the hinterland. Marty led one group of about a dozen warriors himself, heading toward the northern hills. As they trekked inland, they found signs of wildlife: small streams trickling down from the hills, clusters of berry bushes, and the tracks of animals unfamiliar to them. The land was fertile, promising, despite the cooler climate.
After nearly a full day of scouting, the teams regrouped near the beach. They gathered around a small fire, sharing their findings. One group had discovered a large freshwater lake just a short distance inland, its waters clear and cold. Another had found an area rich with trees bearing fruit that were strange, unfamiliar, but seemingly edible.
“The site near the lake is ideal,” one of the scouts suggested, his face flushed from the cold. “It is fed by a large, winding river which comes from the north and continues south. The water is sweet, I spotted what I think are deer and maybe some form of furry, short-necked llamas, and it’s sheltered from the worst of the wind by the hills.”
Marty nodded, considering the options. The lake was a good choice, providing a reliable water source and could likely be used to introduce irrigation and farming techniques to these people. He’d also noticed the temperature rose quite a bit the farther inland they were. The nearby forests would also provide plenty of wood to build with. This place in the future would be miles upon miles of fertile grasslands that supported farming and the raising of livestock. There wouldn’t be a reason these people couldn’t make those things work in this ancient past, once they figured out what grew here.
He turned to Surjan and asked, “What do you think?”
Dawa, who’d been sitting near the fire with Surjan, grabbed the king’s hand and pronounced, “I like it.” She panned her gaze across the landscape. “Are we sure there will be no flooding?”
Marty noticed the look of concern and realized that these people had no clue they weren’t on yet another island. Their people had always lived on an island and probably couldn’t conceive of what living on the mainland would be like. “I think you will find that these lands are vast and proof against the kind of flooding you encountered back on Nesha.”
Dawa held a thoughtful expression and nodded. “It will be different,” she said softly and sandwiched Surjan’s large hand between her own, “but we will make it our home.”
Surjan did his best to not look uncomfortable, but Marty could easily guess what was going through the man’s thoughts. The team would be leaving these people behind and their head of site security was not thrilled about the inevitable upset the young bride would encounter with her husband’s departure.
“Then it’s settled,” Marty said, turning to the others. “We’ll set up camp near the lake and start planning the settlement. We have a lot of work ahead of us.”
The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the plains as the island people of Nesha finished removing all of their possessions from the boats and began the process of migrating inland toward their new homesite. Marty lingered on the beach for a moment, watching as the last light of day glinted off a distant iceberg, a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead.
He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, and turned to follow the others.
They had brought these people to safety, and this was just the beginning of what he knew would be an arduous journey. But as he walked toward the unknown, there was a strange sense of peace that settled over him.
The Neshili were where they belonged, but the vision of a large, glowing wall of ice loomed large in his mind.
Marty and his team had come this far with fewer dangers than he’d actually expected. If things continued going as planned, they might reach their goal within the week. What lay beyond the wall of ice was something that kept him up at night.
Despite Surjan’s role as the king of these people, Marty knew that the team would be looking to him as the de facto leader. It was easy enough for him to point generally to the south, given that his visions had made their destination clear enough. But once they reached their destination, then what?
If only he could see past the icy barrier . . .
It was early morning as Kareem moved cautiously through the dense brush, his spear held loosely in his hand, ready to strike at the first sign of danger. The air was cool, the sun casting long shadows across the unfamiliar landscape as he explored the area around the newly chosen settlement site for the islanders. The ground was damp beneath his boots, the earth rich and dark, and the scent of wet foliage filled his nostrils. It was quiet here, the only sounds the rustling of leaves and the occasional distant call of a bird.
He had been walking for nearly an hour when he spotted something unusual: a mound of disturbed earth, partially obscured by thick undergrowth. Kareem narrowed his eyes, approaching cautiously. As he drew closer, he saw that it was not just a mound, but the entrance to a burrow, wide and deep, the earth freshly turned.
Kareem’s instincts immediately went on high alert. He crouched low, peering into the darkness of the burrow, his grip tightening on the spear.
He slowly breathed in deeply and tasted the air. There was a musky scent of an animal on the breeze. Kareem wasn’t sure how he knew it, but his senses told him that there was something living nearby.
His mind raced, considering the possibilities. What kind of creature lived in this hole dug into the side of a hill? Something large enough to warrant a burrow this size, that was certain. But before he could ponder further, movement from within the burrow caught his eye.
Two large shapes emerged, shuffling out of the darkness and into the light. Kareem’s breath caught in his throat as he took in their appearance. They were like nothing he had ever seen before—somewhat resembling sloths, but far larger, easily the size of a large dog. Their thick, shaggy fur was matted with dirt, and their long claws dug into the earth as they moved. But what struck him most was their behavior. These creatures were not slow or timid like the sloths he’d heard about as a kid. Instead, they eyed him with an unsettling aggression, their beady eyes narrowing as they regarded him. One of them let out a low, growling sound, a noise that sent a shiver down Kareem’s spine.
Kareem instinctively raised his spear, every muscle in his body tensing, ready to eliminate what he perceived as a potential threat to the former islanders. But as he steadied his weapon, François’s voice echoed in his mind, sharp and reprimanding. We’re a team, Kareem. . . . You don’t act alone when other people’s lives are at stake.
He hesitated, the memory of the chewing out he had received from François still fresh. His instincts screamed at him to act, to neutralize the threat before it could grow into something more dangerous, but he forced himself to lower the spear. The creatures were watching him closely, their movements cautious, their bodies tensed, ready to spring at a moment’s notice.
Kareem slowly backed away, keeping his eyes on the creatures until he was out of sight. Only then did he turn and make his way back to the camp, his heart still pounding in his chest. As he walked, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had encountered something significant, something that needed to be addressed.
When he arrived back at the camp, he found François and immediately pulled him aside, his voice low and urgent. “I found something. A burrow, with creatures inside. They looked like sloths, but bigger—about the size of large dogs. And they didn’t seem at all afraid of me. In fact, they seemed . . . aggressive.”
François’s expression darkened, his eyes narrowing as he listened. “How big were they, exactly?”
Kareem thought for a moment, then gestured with his hands, indicating their size. “Larger than most street dogs in Cairo, but not by much. Maybe the size of a wolf, or a big dog.”
François’s face grew even more concerned, and he glanced around the camp, his mind clearly racing. Without a word, he turned and called for Marty, his voice carrying across the camp. Within moments, Marty appeared, his brow furrowed as he and Lowanna approached.
“What is it?” Marty asked, his tone serious.
François quickly relayed what Kareem had told him, his voice urgent. “If these are what I think they are, we need to investigate immediately. They could be dangerous, especially if there are more of them around.”
Marty nodded and didn’t hesitate, immediately gathering a small team of the best warriors and trackers. Kareem watched as the group quickly armed themselves, preparing for whatever they might find.
“Show us where, Kareem,” François said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Kareem nodded, his mind still racing with the memory of those creatures, and led the team back onto the rough hill area he’d been exploring. As they moved through the dense undergrowth, he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was the issue. After all, Kareem was sure he could have dispatched the threat himself. Why all the others?
Even with the brightness of the midday sun chasing the shadows away, Kareem felt a sense of foreboding settle over him like a shroud.
As they approached the flat area ahead of where he’d found the burrow, the air seemed warmer. It was thick and heavy, the warm breeze carried with it a strong scent of musk.
They were obviously downwind of the sloths, but why was the scent so much stronger now than just a couple hours earlier?
Noticing Kareem’s nose wrinkle, Marty breathed in deeply and detected the musky odor of an animal.
Kareem pointed east and whispered, “At the base of that hill in the distance is where the burrow is.”
François approached Marty and said in an urgent voice, “If Kareem is right, these aren’t just any sloths. They might be Megatherium.”
Marty glanced at François, frowning. “Megatherium? Let’s pretend I’m not a zoological expert. What is a Megatherium?”
François stopped and motioned for Kareem, Lowanna, and the eight warriors to gather closer so they could hear. “Megatherium is a type of giant ground sloth that lived during the Pleistocene epoch.”
“The Pleist . . . what?” one of the former-islanders asked.
François waved dismissively, “Sorry, I mean these creatures aren’t something you’ve ever seen before. They are mostly herbivores—plant eaters—but they are massive, capable of growing to the size of an elephant.” He glanced at the islanders, who seemed more confused than ever. “Twenty times bigger than the largest goat you have ever seen. Anyway, I think the creatures Kareem saw were very young specimens. And if those were truly young burrow-dwellers, then their parents are likely not far away.”
There was a collective intake of breath from the team. Marty’s mind raced as he processed the information. “Infants the size of wolves? That’s . . . insane. But the sloths I’m familiar with are slow-moving and not typically aggressive.”
Kareem cleared his throat and shook his head. “Those things growled at me. It was like they were trying to intimidate me, by God.”
Marty nodded, reevaluating their position. The tools and weapons they had were designed for hunting animals they knew, not for taking down elephant-sized sloths. He wasn’t sure they were equipped for this.
He looked over at Lowanna and asked, “Is this the kind of thing you have any guesses about? I know you’re an anthropologist and all, but—”
“No.” Lowanna shook her head and gave him a crooked smile. “I’m not aware of any animal’s disposition ever being captured in the fossil record, nor have I learned of such in the spoken history of the indigenous people. I’m guessing these things mostly disappeared a long time ago.”
François nodded. “Just about ten thousand years before our time.”
Marty sniffed the air once again and said, “Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out, but everyone needs to be extremely cautious. We have no idea how aggressive these creatures might be, especially if they feel their territory is threatened. So we’ll go at this very slowly.”
With Marty taking the lead, the team continued onward.
The pungent scent of these Mega-things filled his nostrils and even the Neshili, whose senses weren’t as sharp as his, began wrinkling their noses at the aroma.
For a moment, the clouds above parted and the sun beamed its harsh light down onto the grassland. Marty squinted at the brightness and his heart skipped a beat.
There, at the base of the hill about two hundred yards ahead, two massive creatures lumbered into view and paused next to a copse of bushes. These things were easily the size of large bears.
Kareem pointed frantically and Marty nodded. “Those aren’t the size of dogs.”
With Marty’s hand blocking the sunlight, he focused on the creatures in the distance, trying to make out the details of what they were facing. Their shaggy fur lay very differently from a bear’s, and the loping gait was another dead giveaway that these weren’t bears. And besides, he was pretty sure there was no history of bears ever having been in this part of the world. Marty’s breath caught in his throat as the reality of it hit him. François was probably right.
Giant sloths.
Creatures that were supposed to have been extinct for over ten thousand years—from a twenty-first-century point of view, that is—and yet here they were, living and breathing before his eyes.
François’s face was pale, but his voice remained steady. “It’s hard to believe it, but this is undeniable proof that we’re not in Kansas anymore.” He glanced at Marty with a grin. “That’s what you Americans like to say, isn’t it?”
Marty felt a surge of adrenaline, his mind racing. These things weren’t exactly something he wanted to mess with, but now what? What should their objective be? Were they here to document, to observe, to protect the former islanders from these massive beasts? His thoughts were interrupted by a low, rumbling growl that reverberated through the air.
The winds had shifted and the sloths had caught their scent.
Marty’s heart pounded as the creatures turned their massive heads toward the group, their eyes locking onto the group of humans with an unsettling awareness. The larger of the two let out a deafening bellow and began to charge; flying clumps of dirt and dust billowed behind the accelerating creature. The other followed suit, their movements surprisingly fast for creatures so large.
“Get ready!” Marty shouted, his voice cutting through the tension as the team braced for impact. Weapons were drawn, but there was an air of uncertainty, a sense that they might not be enough to stop these beasts.
But before the sloths could reach them, Marty caught movement from the corner of his eye.
Lowanna, who had been standing slightly behind the group, moved forward and began to glow. A soft, ethereal light surrounded her, growing brighter as she raised her hands toward the charging sloths. The creatures, mid-charge, suddenly froze in place, their bodies seemingly rigid as if every joint had locked in place.
Marty watched in awe as the massive creatures toppled over, their momentum carrying them forward even as their bodies refused to move. They landed heavily on their sides, the earth shaking with the impact. But they were still breathing, their chests rising and falling rapidly, their eyes blinking in confusion.
These things were easily thousands of pounds each, with the larger of the two probably twice the size of an American bison.
Marty turned to Lowanna, who was now approaching the downed creatures with a calm, steady gait. She glanced back at him and gave a playful wink. “I suggested they hold their position. We want to talk . . . and I guess my suggestion worked better than I thought it would.”
Marty stared at her, his mind reeling. He had seen Lowanna’s abilities before, but this was something entirely different. She had stopped these enormous creatures with nothing but a thought. As she neared the sloths, she knelt beside the larger of the two, placing a gentle hand on its thick fur.
Lowanna’s glow intensified slightly as she closed her eyes, her lips moving silently as she communicated with the creatures. Marty and the rest of the team watched in stunned silence, not daring to interrupt whatever was happening. Marty knew that if he walked closer, he would understand the conversation, but he was afraid that his presence might upset the sloths, and stayed put.
After a few tense moments, Lowanna opened her eyes and stood, turning back to the group. “We’ve come to an understanding,” she said, her voice carrying a strange, soothing quality. “We won’t disturb their den, and they won’t disturb us.”
Marty exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s . . . good. But why were they so aggressive?”
Lowanna tilted her head thoughtfully, her gaze distant as she relayed the sloth’s words. “They’re wondering why we’ve settled here. Most humans they’ve seen travel south from the north.”
“South?” Marty asked, his curiosity piqued. “South where?”
The larger sloth, still lying immobile on the ground, made a low rumbling sound.
Three days’ journey to the south.
“They say there’s a human outpost three days south of here,” Lowanna announced for the benefit of the others.
Marty’s mind raced. A human outpost? In 9000 B.C.E.? “Where exactly?”
Lowanna turned back to the rigid sloths; her brows furrowed as she concentrated. After a moment she turned back to Marty and said, “Their thoughts aren’t exactly like ours, but the best I can get out of them is that the outpost is ‘where the ice meets the river.’”
Marty’s blood ran cold at the mention of ice. They had seen the iceberg in the water, the harbinger of a colder, more treacherous land, but there was no real sign of ice on the land. His thoughts raced as he tried to piece together what this could mean. A human settlement at the edge of an icy expanse? It didn’t make sense, but nothing about their journey so far had made sense.
Yet such a thing would match what his visions had been promising him. Somewhere south of them was their icy destination, and if there was a human outpost to the south, and it was in any way associated with ice, then that’s where they’d have to go.
Lowanna’s glow faded as she took a step back.
The sloths made loud guttural sounds as their limbs twitched.
We do not hate humans. We will leave the humans alone.
We know of no other humans here.
The team took several steps backward as the giant creatures began to move.
The giant sloths slowly rose to their feet and, for a few terrifying moments, stared silently at the humans. Then they turned and lumbered back toward the den, casting one last glance at the humans before disappearing into the darkness of the burrow.
Marty motioned to Kareem, François, and Lowanna as his mind still buzzed with the implications of what they had just learned. “Guys, we need to figure out what’s going on to the south. If there’s a settlement there, we need to go find it.”
François leaned forward and spoke in English. “I’m thinking this is where we leave our island friends behind.”
Marty nodded. “We need to have a team meeting, but yes. I suspect so. Regardless, we need to inform the Neshili that Lowanna has struck a bargain with these creatures.” He looked over at the hill and noticed that two smaller sloths had come out of the den. “I’d recommend that the Neshili not disturb these creatures.”
As the team began walking back the way they’d come, Marty walked up beside Lowanna, snaked his arm around her waist, and gave her a quick one-armed hug. “Pretty impressive stuff you did back there.”
Lowanna glanced at him and her normally somber expression cracked with a hint of a smile. “I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, and it was what came to mind.”
François looked over his shoulder in their direction and Marty leaned his head against Lowanna’s. The Frenchman grinned, shifted his gaze to one of the Neshili, and began talking with him.
Lowanna grabbed Marty’s hand, interlacing her fingers with his as they walked side by side.
Marty wasn’t sure exactly why, but he sensed that something had shifted within Lowanna. Maybe because they were getting closer to their destination. Or maybe because he’d tried to show that he appreciated her as a woman. Either way, it was a positive change, and one that they’d need.
Marty knew one thing for certain: their mission was far from over, and the dangers they faced were only beginning to reveal themselves.