The hillside they had camped on became broken and wooded below. Beyond he could see a broad river, which must have been the river they walked along a few days back. The river flowed through the middle of the big valley, which seemed to have narrowed at this point.

They were following the stream down into the wooded valley. His pack was considerably lighter without all of the bows and arrows attached. They were obviously going hunting—the entire family, like a trip to the market on food stamp week…

They were walking just within the sparse trees at the edge of the woods which had them partially concealed. They were shadowing a herd of tiny horses that looked like little zebras without stripes. He so wished he could help. He was so frustrated by his inability to use the bows and arrows. He knew that he was not strong enough to draw the bow when properly strung. Jay had tried to coach him on this. In fact, only Jay and Bruco and that freak Hoost could draw these bows once strung. Even Doc and Terrence and Sensei could not.

His plan had been to string it backwards and show them how it was used, and then have their strong asses string and use them properly. But he just could not remember how it was that Jay used his ass and leg to assist in stringing the bow, which was too difficult even for him to string with just his hands. It was no use. All he managed was a backwards bent toy that would only be good for small game like birds, squirrels and rabbits. His new friends apparently did not even recognize small animals as food. When they thought food, they thought by the truck-load. It seemed like the hides that they carried and wore were all of huge hairy animals, a giant kind of cow apparently being the smallest. He was even surprised that they were interested in eating the little horses.

Shoot son, as slow as they move I don’t give them much chance of bagging one of these tiny horses. I think a hairy elephant stuck in quicksand is more their style.

Regardless of his unfortunate archery experiments he was determined to shoot a bird or some other small thing just so he could contribute.

Crack-Head and Spear were ranging out ahead. Thag, Cave-Girl and Big Mama were with him and the kids. The real wide guy was dragging the old lady in her bed, and the wolf cubs and kids were running around like it was a holiday picnic. The teenage boys were out of sight, and he was feeling out of place.

Darn son, I’m getting hungry. This thick crew has got to be starving.

He got side-tracked in the woods trying to shoot a squirrel. He eventually did manage to lose an arrow by getting it stuck into a tree about twenty feet up. There were no branches on the lower portion of the tree which made it impossible for him to climb.

We won’t tell anyone about this, right Squirrel Hunter?

By the time he made his way back to the group they were at the base of the wooded slope where the stream came together with another small stream before it pushed on to join the river. There was a lot of splashing and commotion; mostly grunting and snorting and the neighing of tiny horses.

He ran along the streambed until he got to the scene-of-the-mess, which is what it was. There was a dead horse that was being chopped to pieces with sharp stones. The thing was about the size of one of those carnival ponies he liked so much. Thag was starting up his fire and the females and young were gathering wood, everybody working like a bee, except for Spear. That frightfully savage ape-man was leaning on his over-sized spear while Big Mama looked at his knee—which was a mess—and then looked up at Eddie, a question in her eyes.

“I gotch’you Big Mama, Uncle Eddie to the rescue.”

He dropped his bow and arrows and pack and went to the man’s side and took a knee so he could examine the injury. It was bleeding but that was just from a hoof-scrape. The knee-cap itself felt like broken glass in gelatin. He motioned for Spear to lay down and for Big Mama to elevate the leg and set it across her thighs, which they did. He then cleaned the wound with peroxide and iodine, dressed it.

He got out the Velcro one-size-fits-all knee brace he had brought in case Jay had hurt a knee. In fact, he had brought an ankle, elbow and wrist brace as well, and they took up no room in his pack. He showed Big Mama and Spear how to adjust the brace, and explained about the importance of elevation. He then went back to a felled tree where a patch of snow had remained in the shade despite the warming weather and rain, and scooped up a handful. He packed the knee in ice, gave his patient two Tylenol for the inflammation, and patted him on the chest and thanked him for dinner with his hands like Cave-Girl would do.

“If you don’t mind y’all, Doctor Eddie is going to kick back a little and enjoy your tiny horse barbeque. I got an injured leg I need to elevate my own self.”

He brought over his pack and elevated his and Spear’s legs on it. The vicious looking ape-man actually smiled at him.

The men were sharing raw horse scraps with the little moochers, who vied for position with the kids who—having forgotten their wood-gathering chores already—crowded about the kill as the men butchered it and Cave-Girl and Fat Butt helped Thag with the fire. Grandma was sniffing the wood-smoke and singing deep in her throat. Big Mama soon took it upon herself to raise his tent and Crack-Head was walking the perimeter liking a stalking cat, growling and coughing in his throat.

This is a nice little clearing for a camp son. These people don’t have such a bad life. I mean, eventually you should be able to get used to sleeping in what amounts to the back of a butcher’s stall at the market.

Doc said six months son, so you got six months with these people, then you and Jay-Bone—if his ass returns—will probably skip town with Cave-Girl here. I just don’t see any other choice. You could take a second person. How about Big Mama? She could be a bouncer at a lesbian night club.

He woke just before daybreak and emerged from his tent, the cubs piling out ahead of him.

Only Thag, tending the fire, and Crack-Head, prowling around the small 20-foot wide campsite, were up and about. He cleaned the sleep from his eyes while he stepped around the big dead tree at the edge of the campsite and whipped it out. He had a nice long enjoyable piss with his eyes closed, just easing into the primitive morning, listening to his piss plash on that rock behind the tree.

His whole time growing up he had enjoyed pissing with his eyes closed. However, Aretha whooped his ass more than once for hitting the seat, so when it came time to shake it off it had become his habit to look down at his target.

What he saw froze his blood in his young veins.

He turned and ran as fast as he could toward camp while he tried to remember where the capacitator was.

He wanted to warn everybody but they were all already up and looking around with their spears and leg bones and sharp rocks in their hands. Some bitch was screaming her lungs out like a crossing guard at a Crip jump-in—Oh that’s you son. Shit’s embarrassing!

He ran through camp, out the other side, and ran straight into another scary-ass Dominican, only with his face painted white.

He stopped so fast that his boots kicked up dirt clods, turned and ran back into camp, and dived into his tent to get the samurai sword.

They got you surrounded son, you and your friends. Oh yeah, the Kevlar vest, put that joint on. Shit, if this is Eddie’s Last Stand these Dominican motherfuckers are going to know it!

He charged out of the tent with a loud KEEEAH! Just like Sensei had taught him, and fell head-first over a body that had a giant arrow sticking out of it. No, it wasn’t a body yet. It was Thag, laying on his back trying to pull a giant arrow without feathers out of his chest.

You got to help him son. Look around. Oh shit!

Eddie looked up to see his friends huddled low around camp, except for Spear and Crack-Head, who were threatening the many face-painted men in tailored animal skins that were closing in from the woods on three sides. He looked over his shoulder out onto the grassland above the streambed and saw nothing but grass and sky for miles. He knew then that his slow-footed friends were never going to escape this place alive.

You can’t save these people son.

He snapped his helmet, grabbed the sword and ran for the two green hills in the distance. When the screams came he had the urge to look back. But it was too painful to consider.