FP-S6 (Finale): “I am Jane”

Monday, 23 Oct 9am: Byron strode thru the forest eastward along a beaten path, back to site 4. “Hope is a fickle bitch. Imagine being one with the animals, ready to hunt my prey…an urge to hunt…predator…I return to my pack as the Alpha to become king of the jungle. I am…Jane.” Unconsciously 'Jane' dropped to all four and began to run like an animal. In no time he/she entered the empty camp. Where was his pack to dominate? He took his frustration out on the truck only to find it already sabotaged. “Ah Jane, you already marked your territory last night while you left me hanging. But I am Jane now.” Byron/Jane proceeded to trash the camp, slashing the tent, denting the cook-wear, and tossing items deep into the woods.

Pissing on the smoldering fire before heading northwest, “I can smell them. The fear sweating from that cowardly professor.”

Harold nervously watched the creatures the Paleontologists had described as spined- Therapods but now called spined-apes for the way they stood upright like man. “The ‘apes’ seem to be surrounding us cautiously.” Clive was already at the Assayer Office backdoor and peeked out thru gaps in the wall boards, “There’s some back here too. Do we have any weapons besides Harold’s pistol? The General Store: did you guys find anything in there? Shovels, picks, axe. Hell, dynamite?” Marcus scoffed, “60-year-old dynamite? Can you imagine how unstable that would be?!” Clive quipped, “Got any better ideas? I’ll run across to the store as a distraction and to at least search which will give you guys time to slip out the back to escape.”

James was near hysteria as he kept pressure on his shoulder wound, “I’m going to bleed to death in here. I need a doctor! Maybe Dr. Baker and his team are holed up in the mines.” And with that he burst out the front door in a panicked run. Ignoring Marcus and Harold’s shouts, “Get back here!” Clive also exited per his planned run to the store, with his digging trowel held high as his weapon. Leaving Marcus incredulous, “Is it too much for you professors to act reasonably?!” He reached into his backpack and began fumbling with his camera supplies, soon crafting a magnesium torch out of a broken chair leg, rags, and camera flash-paper. To then rush out the door, leaving Harold dumbfounded, “Everyone Stop! Have you all gone mad?!”

As Harold stood at the window watching all unfold before him, he saw more detail of the ‘apes’. Larger ones carried spears and stones while a few smaller ones more primitive and adorned with necklaces held a blunt stick they seemed to wave in front of them toward the fleeing humans. “Anthropologically, the smaller ones appear to be female. Definitely more vicious, baring their teeth and seeming to command the warrior class. Their actions with their wands remind me of Indian shamans.”

Harold watched a female direct a pack of warriors to chase James, herding him out of town toward the mines. Another female waved her stick at Clive while commanding others that stood between Clive and the General Store. [POW fail] Clive suddenly winched in pain as if arthritis flared in every join. But that’s when Marcus, close behind, let out the old ‘Cincinnati School Cheer’, and charged forward shielding his eyes as he lit his torch. Sunrise. The brilliant light blinding all looking in that direction; even Harold. The female ‘ape’ stunned and thus stopped her dancing. Clive gasp at relief from his pains.

Marcus grabbed Clive’s arm and led him forward, “Let’s get inside your damn store you fool. Gotta die someplace.” Alone, Harold abandoned the Assayer Office and charged out with his gun. Pointblank shot at the female, splattering her brain matter behind her. He ran into the store leaving the warriors howling in anger. Angry monkey hoots and howls.

Byron stopped in his tracks at the distant sound of gunshot. He picked up a thick tree limb as an improvised club and, back on all fours, charged toward the sound.

As James hobbled past the hotel, he suddenly turned left to run-stumble past the jailhouse. His pursuers followed and closed. A thrown black rock (coprolite) clipped his ankle causing him to fall. The warriors surrounded him as the female began to...interrupted.

Byron saw the chase approaching him. Still on all fours, he charged forward while yelling, “I am king of this Holler!” The female hooted at her warriors who turned their spears toward the new threat. Stepping forward to stand on James’ wrist to keep him from getting away, a warrior braced to throw his spear. The female began to cast...James kicked out at the shaman distracting her. Byron stood to throw his club but the ‘ape’ warrior knocked it aside. Byron pulled a knife from his belt and charged only to impale himself [major wound] on the warriors thrusted spear. The shaman now focused on James who last heard the shaman’s rhythmic hoots (her spell). His last vision before his eyelids closed was of Byron corralled by two warriors and being drug along.

Inside the General Store, Clive desperately searched for weapons or something flammable. Thinking civil war era weapons but none. If the town had been attacked, then surely the miners had grabbed every weapon themselves. Marcus found some old jars of preserves and jams, “Fermented and flammable. If I use some of my film flash-paper we’ll have some grenades to throw.” Clive suggested, “Or draw the ‘apes’ in and use a jar to start a fire as we exit the back.” But Harold not buying it, “We’re in survival mode. Burn our own holdout? Kill ourselves too?” Clive repeated, “I said just before we exit.” But Marcus and Harold rejected the idea as they hunkered down.

Clive tried to reason, “Can’t you see the warriors are pissed you killed their leader. They are ready to storm in thru the large front window and doors.” But the others ignored him as they readied flame-jars to throw. Clive busied himself piling clothes and other flammable items in a corner. And when the time came, when the ‘apes’ rushed in, and ducked a thrown jar, and Marcus and Harold turned for the backdoor, Clive grabbed a jar and threw it into the corner starting a blaze.

Harold exited first and threw a jar at the feet of some warriors out back. He then ran left trying to distance himself. Marcus followed as coprolites bounced around them. Clive exited and turned right, only to be quickly surrounded. He reluctantly surrendered. Meanwhile, Harold and Marcus kept running down a street in front of the jail with the warriors in pursuit. And that’s when Harold saw the other ‘apes’ dragging James and Byron up the road towards the jail. Marcus already had his hands up in surrender. He’d seen the female ‘apes’ abilities, so Harold drew his gun and shot at this female. She survived. And cast against both of them. [POW save 94 and 96] Both Marcus and Harold collapsed unconscious. And when Clive was brought forward, he too was rendered unconscious.

Clive was the first to wake in pitch-black, realizing he lay on a cold rough surface. His eyes slowly adjusted to make out a faint light in the distance. Moans around him as others began to wake. “Where are we?” An unfamiliar voice, “Who’s there?” Marcus groggily awoke and recognized the voice, “Martin, is that you?! Where are we? Where are the others of your team?” Martin Butcher answered, “Oh God, they got you too? Dr. Baker is here…in body…his mind fried. Now insane. Thank God Dr. Stewart and Clara ran away before these things attacked us. I hope they’ve reached safety; they weren’t brought here. The creatures took Dr. Baker and Mrs. Winters away days ago; we could heard her scream. But she wasn’t brought back with Dr. Baker…what’s left of him.”

[Both Stewart and Clara were ritually sacrificed by Jane to gain their life essence.]

James too began moaning as he woke, “My shoulder. Where are we? Is Dr. Baker here? Maybe he can treat my wound.” Martin laughed at the idea, “Our Dr. Baker has checked out. Funny farm. He thinks he’s at a party thrown by his sister.” And then another voice, “I am Jane.” Martin’s voice rose in pitch, “Where is that bitch?! She’s with them. Led us into a trap in the town. We’ve been caged here for days unfed.” Harold started to wake, “Unfortunately, THAT Jane is our Mr. Philips. He left last night to help Jane chop wood, and this is what we got in return. Covered in blood.” Byron continued in whispered intervals, “I am Jane.” To the point others broke down, “Can’t you shut him up?!”

Marcus asked, “What do they want with us?” Martin replied, “Sacrifices? I don’t know. Besides Victoria, they took Dr. Tucker a few days ago, he’s gone. They’ll be back soon for someone else.” Clive assessed the situation, “Our best chance of escape is now while we have the strength. How are we caged?” James had already crawled to the thatched gate and saw it poorly constructed, “You could have broken out, why didn’t you?” Silence for an answer. They had given up all hope. James clung to live and began kicking at the gate. Marcus cautioned, “Wait till day.” But the others questioned, “We don’t even know how long we’ve been unconscious. Is it day or night? All I can say is it’s time to try to get free.” Clive tried to reason, “I remember the General Store on fire. Maybe the West Haven sheriff came to check it out. Or check up on us per young Matthew Penman’s stories about us.” Marcus just scoffed, “Wishful thinking.”

Marcus stayed behind as James/Clive/Harold crawled toward the distant faint light. As they got closer, they made out the shape of an ‘ape’ warrior standing guard beyond a side tunnel from where the light spilled. Their tunnel continued on and curved right. Clive peered into the side tunnel: hundreds of coprolites stacked in cairns in a huge cavern maybe 500ft across and 150ft high. More ‘apes’ gathered around its center where the ceiling seemed to dip down. He backed up toward the others, “Coprolites. If we could get a few, we could bash the guard.” James remembered, “The prison gate was made of interlaced branches. We could fashion spears and club-handles with the stones as the head.”

Meanwhile, had they paid attention; they might have noticed Byron also exited. But he turned in the opposite direction, away from the light. “Shadows. The hunter uses shadows for stealth. I am the Alpha predator of Sica Holler.” Byron crawled along his pitch-black passage. Feeling his way along while occasionally sniffing the air. Time? He had no sense of time for he was on the hunt where time stood still as the predator approached. Faint light. A large cavern. Prey gathered near the center dancing in a rhythmic motion. The dance of death. Theirs. As he focused and readied to attack, he saw the glint of white/grey bones. Something moved nearby that seemed to pulse and squirm. Like people inside a sleeping bag.

Then realization those were giant maggots 6-7ft long! [Sanity failure 99] Byron lost all sense of reality. An almost out-of-body sensation. Disconnected with his own body. Unable to move without looking at the body part he wanted to move. Byron could only look at his feet as he mentally commanded them to shuffle forward. Left then right then left. Closer to his prey.

Marcus was anxious to hear their report upon return. “If we get outside, then what?” Harold spoke up, “We can worry about that AFTER we get out.” Marcus added to the plan, ”Instead of a flimsy warclub, why not just slip the coprolite into a sock and use it like a cosh?” Oliver began relieving the original survivors of their socks while James worked on a 3-pronged spear fashioned from the gate. Marcus joined them on the crawling return to the side-tunnel. Oliver elected to stealth forward to get the stones.

Oliver used his shirt front to collect stones. [Spot 01] Till he noticed movement further inside. Two warriors seemed alerted to something off to the right. Olive peered around the corner and was shocked to see Byron their target. He seemed frozen as they grabbed him and began dragging him toward the center gathering of the females. A dozen of the shaman swayed in a chant before the lowered ceiling…that moved and pulsed. And drew Clive’s attention: black liquidy oil with tentacles hung down that vaguely reminded him of a cow’s utter. The tentacles tending moving cocoons that he quickly realized were giant maggots!

[Sanity failure 92: Indefinite Insanity] Clive dropped his shirt-full of coprolites that drew the attention of a warrior. With blank eyes, Oliver stared at the approaching form, “Captain Nemo? Is this your submarine cave I’ve heard so much about? You know my name? I’m flattered. And look, your crew too. Is that King Neptune? And Professor Aronnax (Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea). My, you’ve gathered them all. Yes, please, show me your wonderful creations.” As he strode forward beside Nemo, he noticed a young lad (Byron) delivered to King Neptune where he dropped to his knees in supplication, “I am Jane. Let me take her place. I will aid you.”

Harold saw Clive drop the stones, “What is he doing? What is he saying? The idiot discarded the stones and is going further into the cavern.” James heard enough and turned to attack the guard further down the passage. Harold turned to join him. Both attacked with surprise but barely scratched the warrior who bellowed hoots and calls. James and Harold slipped past the warrior and ran into the darkness beyond, stumbling as they felt their way along. Meanwhile, Marcus entered the large cavern, grabbed the closest coprolite and exited (shielding his eyes from the activities inside) to then follow the others. Fashioning his cosh as he followed.

They didn’t get far. Soon rounded up and herded back to the grand cavern. Where they too witnessed the scene before them. A dozen shaman surrounded a huge pile of bones in the center, below the descended cow-utters. Huge maggots crawled across the bones cleaning them while tentacles from above tended each maggot. As if fostering its young. If that didn’t stress their Sanity, they realized the maggots were shitting out the coprolites. And the shaman were picking each stone up to engrave it before gently stacking on another cairn.

Rather than supplicate themselves, each took action. James charged and tried to attack a maggot with is spear, only to be intercepted by a warrior who crushed his skull with a stone. Marcus dug into his backpack for his flash-paper jar and charged to attack the utter. [DEX 000] He slipped and stumbled upon the bones and smashed the jar, which splattered its contents on a maggot. That squealed horrifically before going lifeless. A piercing cry echoed from above and beyond. The tentacles waving and dancing as they searched out their maggot care. One tentacle unsuccessful.

And that’s when the ‘ape’ creatures went silent before scrambling toward the exits. In panic. Pausing at the exits to see what unfolded next. Enough sanity remained in Marcus and Harold to reason, “Oh shit. That can’t be good.” They too scrambled for the exits but were trapped. The utters withdrew from the ceiling, replaced by darkness with glinting lights. As if viewing the heavens. And then, just as quick, the void filled by…

The shaman and warriors eventually returned to the cavern to add the human bodies to the pile of bones. The maggots hard at work cleaning the bones and pooping more coprolites. An endless cycle as every few days another Baker prisoner was brought forward for sacrifice.