The Mantooth | Page 2

Christopher Leadem
to his primitive demands.
To the end of his days Kalus would not understand what was about to happen next. But in that moment of high emotion, it was as if something in the true nature of his comrades had been revealed to him for the first time. The darkness and evil of their merciless aggression now repulsed and infuriated him, as if some grotesque and twisted visage. Bitter, roused beyond words, he let out a cry and leapt wildly toward the brutal hill-man.
Surprised but not defenseless, Barabbas met the attack head on. Whirling his weapon with savage skill, he struck Kalus square in the face with the butt of his spear. Stunned, Kalus fell to the ground, and before he could move, found the point of Barabbas' spear held threateningly only inches from his throat.
And so, as quickly as it started, the battle was ended. Though a stern and forceful leader, Barabbas was not without compassion. Combining sign language with angry, animal grunts and gestures, he told Kalus he must now leave the tribe and never return. For by questioning the authority of its leader he had committed the one act of disloyalty that could never be forgiven. The other males huddled silently behind him, adding their mute support.
It was only then that Kalus realized the full significance of what he had done. Though Neanderthal and ape-like, the hill-people were the only family he had ever known. Looking to the back of the cave he saw his mother whimpering softly in dismay, and the other women clutching tightly to their children, as if uncertain as to what it all meant.
Searching the faces of the men, he found sympathy but not forgiveness. He had been banished, and knew he could never return.
Utterly confused and dejected, he turned and walked slowly through the opening and down the shallow, sandy incline which led to the grasslands below. Looking back one final time, he felt a warm tear trickle bitterly down his reddened cheek. For he knew that his destiny had been changed forever, and that life could never again be the way it was before.

Chapter 2
Truly alone for the first time in his life, Kalus wandered aimlessly, trying to put back the pieces of all that had happened, and think of the things he must now do to survive. Though rarely forced to do it, he knew he was capable of hunting on his own.
But hunger was not the real danger. The valley in which he lived was full of game, but as a result, was also full of predators, many larger and more powerful than himself. He also knew that some were highly specialized killers, and ruthless in their struggle to survive. Most would kill him without hesitation if they thought he had encroached on their hard fought, territorial boundaries.
His mind filled with such thoughts, he was easily startled by the sound of padded footfalls behind him. Whirling about he saw that it was only Akar, and that this time there was no danger. His belly glutted with the fresh meat of a recent kill, he now followed the man-beast more out of curiosity than anything else. He was deeply puzzled by the presence of a lone cave-dweller, and even more so when he discovered it was the same creature who had saved his life only hours before.
For Akar, unlike his primitive ancestors, was a being capable of rational thought. And though resembling in appearance the gray wolves of northern Canada, that was where the similarity ended. Although unable to formulate intricate patterns of thought, the wolves of the Valley had long since existed in well-defined clans, not unlike the wolves of Kipling or Tolkien. The two studied each other a moment in silence.
Then suddenly both man and beast stiffened, simultaneously aware they were no longer alone. Kalus' sensitive hearing had detected the hissing breath of a nearby predator, while Akar's keen nose (he heard the breathing as well) now caught the thick and unmistakable scent of a Commodore. Not wishing to remain and discover its source, the wolf darted quickly away, leaving the man-child alone with his fears.
As the rasping hiss grew louder and nearer, Kalus headed instinctively for higher ground. Trapped among the shadows of a narrow canyon he was unable to see his pursuer, but knew from the sounds of shuffling stone that it was gaining on him rapidly. Moving to the craggy bluff upon his right he began to climb, hoping his enemy would be unable do the same.
Unfortunately, he was wrong. Emerging from the darkness the nightmare took a shape. Raising itself stiff and hunchbacked to the top of a massive, sunlit boulder, it took flesh as an enormous reptilian carnivore, like a tiny lizard slowed, and swelled to immense proportions. Throwback to the rock-climbing monsters of
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