THE MAN’S EYES ROLLED UP into the back of his skull, his ankles flopped, his knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground at their feet. The woman who shot him lowered her gun, still holding her breath, and listened.
     Beyond the knocking of her adoptive daughter’s trembling knees, the low whines of her young dog, the deceitful stillness of the small glade where they stood, and the fading timbre of the gunshot, she could hear the river.
     ‘Diane,’ her daughter whispered, ‘is—’
     ‘Sh,’ Diane held up her hand, ‘sh.’
     Her eyes scanned the forest around them, slowly roaming over the spaces between the bark and up to the branches bearing new leaves.
     ‘We’ve strayed too far north,’ she whispered.
     Her daughter’s eyes drifted back down to the man lying before them. His broad chest, now transfixed by a red-plumed dart, heaved out wheezes through an open mouth, and his eyelids shivered under the matted locks of dark hair spread across his hairy face. When she looked up again, Diane had slung the rifle over her shoulder and was tuning her radiophone.
     ‘How do you know?’ she asked.
     ‘I can hear the river,’ Diane said before speaking into the receiver, ‘hello? Hello? I’m a visitor in need of assistance. Hello?’
     The fuzzy crackle of the phone grated against a sudden but calm breeze. The noon sun dappled the ground at their feet with the shadows of leaves, and above them loomed the mountain to the north. The river sprang from its southern slopes, flowing east under the electric fence surrounding the reserve. Despite the subtle but ear-piercing whine of the radio, Diane’s daughter could also hear its waters rushing in the distance. Diane pushed down the antenna and stashed the phone.
     ‘We’re too far from the rangers’ station,’ she said, ‘they’ve lost our signal.’
     ‘So what do we do?’
     Diane looked to her daughter, then to the man at her feet. The dog shuffled her paws and groaned.
     ‘Sh, Bella,’ Diane pinched softly behind the dog’s ear. ‘We need to move quickly. Are you sure you want this one?’
     The girl did not respond. The breeze gave way until all that disturbed the still air were the curious songs of the killdeers, finches, and starlings watching over them, as well as the distant river. The man’s eye twitched and he groaned softly.
     ‘Rene, you need to decide now.’
     Diane searched the girl’s green eyes as they studied the groaning prize at their feet. He was lean, not very tall, and they were both fit and strong, but it would take at least two hours of hiking to return to the reserve’s entrance; even more so were they to carry him. They could not take him back down the steep hills they had already climbed, and would likely encounter more men if they walked through the heavily wooded vales in between. These men would not be the calmer, tamer sort they had seen further south, either. But Rene looked back at her and said, ‘yes.’
     ‘Alright,’ Diane sighed, ‘help me with this net, then.’
     They lay a net on the ground and knelt by the man. Rene lifted up the musty bag still slung around his shoulder while Diane laid her gloved hands on his hip.
     ‘What about his bag?’ asked Rene.
     ‘Leave it.’
     She pulled it off his shoulder slowly, gathered it up and peered inside.
     ‘Hurry,’ Diane whispered, ‘just leave it.’
     ‘It’s full of mushrooms!’
     ‘Rene, leave it and help me with him.’
     Rene set the bag aside and gently placed her hands on the man’s shoulder, hesitating at the first touch of his leathery skin. Diane glanced at the bag as it folded over to let the mushrooms tumble out and chuckled.
     ‘You sure you want this one?’ she asked with a wry grin.
     ‘Yeah, I’m sure. Why?’
     ‘Never mind.’
     They rolled and wrapped the man in the net, secured it with cords, and took one last look around. Diane rested a firm hand on her daughter’s shoulder, met her curious gaze and raised a finger to her thin lips.
     ‘Absolutely no talking when we start moving,’ she whispered.
     Rene nodded. They lifted him up on their shoulders on a silent count of three, one carrying his head on her left, the other his ankles on her right, and trudged back into the woods.
     ‘What if he wakes up?’ asked Rene.
     ‘He won’t for a few hours,’ Diane grunted, ‘and I have more just in case. Now shut up.’
     The sun followed them west, casting long shadows ahead as they descended the more forgiving slopes which led down to the narrow vales that would turn them south. They stopped only to change shoulders, regain their footing, or drink from their canteens. Bella found no cause for alarm even as she forged ahead of them with her snout to the earth. An hour later they reached flat ground and rested by a shallow creek until the sun caught up with them.
     They moved on though a vale that broadened out toward the forest in the south, allowing room for stouter trees and mossy boulders on either side of the water. Looking left or right they were each treated to the sight of bluebells blooming earlier than in their lower homelands to the east. What little sun made it through the branches above shimmered over the boulders’ bright limestone, forming little pockets of white light alongside the quiet creek amid the soft summer shadows.
     Rene gazed about as much as she could before Diane led them back into the tree line and steadied their pace through the sprawling ferns at their knees. But then she stopped.
     ‘Bella,’ she called softly, ‘Bella?’
     The dog had disappeared, nose down, into the ferns ahead. They stood there on quaking knees, still holding the man up, and listened.
     The buzz and hum of the forest seemed quieter. A dreadful stillness surrounded them, broken only by their quavering breaths. Rene opened her mouth to speak after one long minute, when suddenly there was a stirring in the trees, and beneath the frantic flapping of wings they heard the hastened pit-patter of paws on soft earth as Bella returned. She was groaning anxiously.
     ‘Down,’ Diane said, ‘down.’
     Diane about dropped her share of the load, leaving Rene to awkwardly lay the rest of the man down, as she dashed to a nearby elm and knelt beneath it. Bella rushed over and lay flat on her side.
     ‘Rene,’ she hissed, ‘get down!’
     Rene ran over and knelt beside them.
     ‘What is—?’
     Diane shut Rene up with a ruthless glare just as sounds of a struggle came splashing into the creek ahead of them. Both jolted into stillness, caught their breath, and stared into each other’s eyes while crunches, thuds, growls, and grunts punctuated every moment thereafter.
     There was a long bout of thrashing and thumping, and then a sudden snap followed by a wrenching wail that made them wince and look away. Diane looked up through the branches to the mountain and breathed through her nose slowly as the fight continued.
     The sun bathed the mountain’s southern slope on its way west. The soft spring breeze felt colder in the shade. She could feel her skin tightening over her bones and the sharp contours of her thin face. She measured her breaths along with her guessed minutes; the afternoon could not wear on for too long. They had to move further south before darkness fell, but the men just kept fighting in the creek ahead of them. Her eyes never strayed from the mountain between the trees as she rested her hand on the dog’s trembling shoulder.
     One of the men screamed suddenly, groaning in pain while the other panted and snorted like a wild boar. The groans dwindled into strained gasps, then desperate gurgles. Diane looked down from the mountain to Rene; her daughter’s eyes were shut tight. The fight would be over soon, and the girl would have witnessed a murder, or as close to a murder as two wild beasts could come. She slowly removed her rifle from her shoulder.
     ‘Rrrreeaugh!’
     A loud, scratching scream followed by a resounding thud jolted her so she fumbled the gun, dropping it on Bella and making her whine. She hesitated, slowly caught her breath, and then picked the gun back up and clutched it close to her chest. The tide of the fight seemed to turn, with the screamer now gnashing and snarling as his quarry yielded to silence. Every one of his blows landed with a loud crack, syncing in a sickening rhythm with his grunts of exertion until the rock he wielded crumbled in his hand.
     Then all fell quiet.
     They did not hear the winner climb out of the creek; no grunts, no padding footsteps, no roar for victory, and so they sat by the elm in a stricter silence. Birdsong returned in phrases, the breeze slowly picked back up, and the babble of the creek returned to its former prominence in their ears; a deceptive peace.
     Diane leaned out from behind the trunk and scanned the trail ahead, but dare not move until Bella chose to rise again. She could not see where the dead man had fallen, or his killer leaving the scene. She looked back down to where they had laid their own man beneath the ferns, and then to Rene.
     There was no more need to tell her to be quiet. The girl’s eyes had opened, but were disturbingly still, and her throat seemed caught in a prolonged gulp. Diane followed her gaze to the creek. The dirt on the bank, the mossy white rocks, the green leaves and the blue sky had been tinted red as blood ran over their rippled reflections in the water. They waited a long while, listening for any further disturbance, until Diane again looked up at the mountain. The shadow on its eastern face encroached across the southern slope. Quarter to three, she guessed, not even bothering to check her phone.
     ‘Rene,’ she whispered.
     The girl turned slowly, her eyes still and unblinking.
     ‘We should go now.’

ON ALL FOURS

THE VALE’S RIDGES FLATTENED the further they hiked south, allowing them to veer from the creek and into a thicket of stout beeches. Diane’s eyes flitted left and right, and often she stopped to readjust the man’s head onto a different shoulder. A drudging hour of stepping over rocks and roots, ignoring aches and sweat, and distrusting their shady surroundings slowly wore them out until they collapsed between two enormous roots. Bella stood between Rene and the man with her eyes squinted and her tongue out.
     Rene patted the panting dog and gazed around; the fading light of the afternoon left the greenery grey, and the birds’ cheerful songs devolved into laments before giving way to the taunts of crows and ravens. She looked to her mother.
     ‘Where are we?’ she asked.
     Diane held back from scolding her. ‘Not long before we reach the trail. I’ll try the rangers again once we’re on it. For now, just stay—’
     ‘Hrrnngh!’
     ‘—quiet.’
      Bella’s low growl ended on a piercing whine as she quickly lay flat between Rene’s already trembling legs and the man’s prone form. Diane sat up, grabbed her rifle, unbolted the chamber to check both darts were in, and lay back down. Bella whined again.
     ‘Rene,’ she hissed, ‘shut that dog up!’
     Rene softly pinched behind the dog’s ear and held her breath. Diane held her gun’s barrel up by her cheek and rested one finger on the trigger. Bella whined again.
     ‘Rene,’ she glared at her petrified daughter, ‘shut that fucking dog up!’
     A stick snapped behind them, shutting Diane up and pricking up the dog’s velvet ears. A slow crunch followed the snap, along with the rustle of ferns and soft but creeping footsteps. The closer they came, rounding the tree, the higher the pitch of Bella’s whines grew until they throated into a bare-toothed snarl. Diane quickly looked over her shoulder and then at Rene, who had now shut her eyes, as the dog stood up over her legs and barked.
     The steps stopped at this for a moment and a half, shuffled indecisively and then took off again. Diane leapt to her feet and cocked the gun just as a dusty little body dashed in front of her, tripped over an exposed root and fell face-first into the dirt.
     Rene’s eyes shot open as it quickly picked itself up and looked at them. Bella crept towards it, still growling, as Diane took aim.
     It screamed.
     Bella recoiled a moment then barked back. The boy backed away from them, screeching to the sky at the top of his lungs, until he tripped again and fell on his butt. His emaciated torso was caked with dust and mud, and his arms and legs were heavily scarred. His blue eyes, peering out from behind scraggly locks of fair hair, fixed themselves on the bore of Diane’s gun. Rene stood up at last and looked to her mother.
    ‘It’s a kid,’ she said nervously.
     Diane shot her a knowing glance as the boy picked himself back up again. Bella stopped growling a moment, her ears picking up again, and started pacing between her humans and the boy. In the distance they heard more rustling and a dozen bare feet stomping towards them.
     ‘Rene,’ Diane said, ‘don’t talk.’
     The rest of the boys appeared all at once, each as filthy and skinny as the first one. None of them stood higher than either of the women’s chests, but their eyes were desperate and three of them brandished wooden stakes. They approached on all fours, save for the tallest one who walked, and gathered around the boy who had screamed for them. Their eyes leered at the women from between hunched shoulders. None of them looked older than twelve.
     Bella paced in front of the boys, growling lowly and frightening them with frothy, gnashing barks. Each of them appealed to the taller one, standing over them all, as Diane took one heavy step forward. She aimed the gun squarely at his chest, and he backed away nervously.
     Rene looked back and forth between her mother and the boys as they followed their apparent leader. The dog lapped up their fear, licking her chops, and slowly advanced. Rene reached out to her mother.
     ‘Diane—’
     ‘Sh!’
     ‘Ungh!’
     One of the littler boys used the moment when Rene distracted Diane to land a swift, cracking blow to the tall one’s head, shove him to the ground, and run off on only his feet. The rest wasted no time following suit, leaving their fallen leader at the mercy of Bella’s teeth. The dog lunged for him, planting her front paws on his back and biting at his side.
     ‘Bella, no!’
     Rene rushed over and pulled Bella off by the collar as the boy yelped in pain. She dragged the still snarling dog back to the trunk, where Diane stood with the gun now lowered. The boy clutched at his side, sat up on his knees, and looked at them. He blinked a watery film away from his eyes and gulped. Bella’s vicious snarl fell to a disappointed whine, and Diane turned around to face the tree trunk.
     ‘Look away,’ she said.
     Rene ignored her, transfixed by the boy’s confused stare. His grubby hands clutched at his bent knees, his ribbed chest shivered in short bursts with every breath, and his sunken cheeks stretched over his scarred jaw like a frayed canvass.
     ‘Rene, turn around. Now!’
     She did as her mother told, and so the boy scurried after his rebellious minions.
     Bella barked after him one last time as they slowly turned around to see he had gone, and Diane scanned the area. Rene looked about too, a furrow in her sweating brow, until their eyes met. For half a minute they stared at each other. Diane stood tall, her thin face still and the gun firmly clasped by white knuckles, while her daughter slowly stopped shaking in her boots and shrank into her shoulders.
     ‘Diane,’ she started explaining, ‘I—’
     ‘Shut up,’ Diane slung the rifle back on her shoulder, ‘we should move on now. Just keep quiet and do as I say, Rene.’

CHIMPANZEES

NATURE’S PEACE, DEEP IN THE WOODS, with all its humming beasts, filled their minds as they continued south. The man grew heavier, the air muggier, and every rock, root, and erosion seemed treacherously placed in their path. They moved from thicket to thicket as the early evening sun sent blinding shafts of light piercing between the trees. But Diane did not stop, even as she felt her daughter faltering behind her, determined to not let nature’s fragile peace lead them into another surprise.
     ‘Come on, Rene,’ she said, ‘I know you’re stronger than that.’
     ‘Can we switch?’ the girl gasped. ‘Take a break, maybe?’
     ‘Alright, lay him down. I’ll try the rangers here—might as well.’
     ‘Okay.’
     They dropped the man, ignoring his soft groans as they collapsed into a bed of bracken. Diane held the radiophone to her face as she lay flat on her back.
     ‘Hello? I’m a visitor in need of assistance. Hello?’
     The phone beeped and whirred.
     ‘Hello? Is someone there?’
     ‘Yes,’ came the fuzzy reply, ‘yes, we can hear you. Do you know where you are?’
     ‘We hiked south from the Rya by Mount Gorgo’s east slope, then we, er, followed a narrow creek into the forest, and now we’re…’
     ‘Head southwest,’ the ranger’s voice came in clearer, ‘you’ll run into the trail a lot quicker.’
     ‘We’re carrying a subject with us.’
     The ranger paused a moment, then, ‘We’ll send a rover up the trail to help.’
     ‘Thank you.’
     ‘Keep moving if you can, sun will be down soon.’
     Diane stashed the radiophone and emptied her lungs with a long, heaving sigh.
     ‘Diane?’
     ‘Hm?’
     ‘Can we talk now?’
     ‘Quietly.’
     ‘I know.’ Rene grimaced a little. ‘It’s just…those boys, Diane. They were together. I thought all men were solitary.’
     ‘More or less—boys often move in groups to survive longer, but it’s more a tenuous pact than a true fellowship. You saw how the one attacked the other?’
     ‘Yeah.’
     ‘That’s what happens. One tries to dominate the rest, and so instead of working together, the groups inevitably fail. Boys who make it as men do so by being the last one standing. They trick and beat each other to it.’
     Rene turned her head aside and looked at their man. Beneath the mesh she could see his face; he looked quite young despite his beard.
     ‘He didn’t seem very threatening when you shot him,’ she said.
     ‘Looks are deceiving,’ her mother muttered, ‘he’s probably never even seen a woman before, living so far north. The ones in the south are more used to us, so they’re tamer.’
     ‘But he didn’t seem too wild.’
     Diane fumed softly. ‘Looks are deceiving, Rene.’
     They lay a short while longer, allowing Bella to catch her breath and the sun’s rays to fade from twixt the trees.
     ‘Alright,’ Diane said at last, ‘get up. They’ll be on the trail now.

***

     They could see the mountain more clearly on the trail, its southern face now masked by blue-grey shadows. Without the forest’s obstacles they could pick up their pace, feeling the evening sun on their backs as they walked.
     ‘We can talk now,’ said Diane.
     ‘So all of them just fight all the time?’ Rene asked.
     ‘Shit, Rene, that was quick!’ Diane chuckled. ‘Yes, they do. All the time.’
     ‘Would they still fight if they weren’t kept here?’
     ‘They’ve always fought—even before the virus had wiped most of them out…actually, even as the virus was wiping them out. They were just a little more sophisticated about it back then.’
     ‘Why?’
     ‘Why were they sophisticated?’
     ‘No—why do they always fight?’
     ‘Well, do you remember that film they showed you in school? The one about the apes in Alzaera?’
     ‘The chimpanzees?’
     ‘Yes. What did the chimpanzees do that the other primates didn’t?’
     ‘Form groups?’
     ‘What kind of groups?’
     ‘Think they called them “kin” groups. Right?’
     ‘Yes. And how were they formed?’
     ‘Uh…by alliances between different males?’
     ‘Yes…and why did the males form them?’
     ‘So they could gather and hoard more resources from other male alliances, I think.’
     ‘For what ultimate purpose?’
     ‘So they could coerce females into joining their group and then control the reproductive process.’
     ‘Very good, Rene. They used females to build their groups with more males bonded together by blood—their “kin”. And so what happened to their female offspring?’
     ‘They were exiled to other kin groups to avoid inbreeding.’
     ‘Correct! And what is the only other primate, indeed the only other species in the whole world, that forms these sorts of groups?’
     ‘Er, goril—no, wait…humans!’
     ‘Humans!’ Diane smirked knowingly. ‘So you see out here, without women to coerce and control, there lies no incentive for any of these men to form such groups. All that’s left for them to do is survive in solitude, fighting and killing each other over resources. Without us, they have no hope of forming anything resembling a society. Think about it, Rene—what do men value most highly above all else?’
     ‘They taught us this in world history—“in a man’s world, blood shed from taking life is glorified while blood shed from giving life is shamed.”’
     ‘Exactly. They fight because they have no concept of where they came from—they have no us. They fight because, well, that’s all they can do.’
     Rene thought for a moment.
     ‘So only the biggest, meanest ones survive out here,’ she mused.
     ‘Not necessarily,’ Diane said, ‘some hold the opinion that the smaller, less aggressive men turn out even more dangerous. They feel such burning shame at not being on top, that they will do whatever necessary to rid themselves of it while the bigger men grow too comfortable and make stupid mistakes.’
     ‘Can they talk?’
     ‘No. They are never taught language—too big a risk.’
     ‘So what are they thinking without any words?’
     ‘Who knows? Probably primitive versions of imperatives like “eat, sleep, kill, move, climb, shit” or…I don’t know, really.’
     ‘This man here isn’t too big but he seemed to be doing alright for himself.’
     ‘Yeah, well…he’s resourceful. Remember when we first spotted him—what was he doing?’
     ‘He was…well, it looked like he was carving something on the trees.’
     ‘He was marking where to find those mushrooms. Men like him live more on their wits than their muscles. They use trickery to win fights or, better yet, to avoid confrontation altogether.’
     ‘So he’s a coward?’
     ‘So now you don’t want him,’ Diane teased, ‘after all this effort bringing him down the hills. For fuck’s sake.’
     ‘No, I’m just—’
     ‘Depending how you look at it, he’s either a coward or a genius. Perhaps the “burning shame” of being smaller and less aggressive never affected him. If he is a coward, perhaps he doesn’t realize it because he’s too busy thinking of better ways to survive rather than risking his life just to prove he’s not a coward.’
     ‘So some men fight, some men die, and he’s sort of…in between?’
     ‘Again, it depends how you see it. Some men can never stop fighting, and I mean never. Some men are destined to perish, but the ones around here, in the south, are tame because they want us to find them because they want sex.’
     ‘Like that one we saw looking into the river?’
     ‘Yes. He was trying to make himself look good.’
     ‘He didn’t.’
     ‘I never said he did. But that’s the irony—these tame men have learned not to altogether fear us, even going as far as to attract our attention, while the wild and dangerous ones would never dare go near our dogs and guns.’
     ‘So all the tame men get taken to the city?’
     ‘Well, not all of them. Some men are…well, some men…’
     ‘Hrrrgh!’
     Bella’s low growl only slowed their pace this time. When they did stop, they lay their man down without a word, and Diane did not bother with the rifle. She reached down and softly pinched behind the dog’s ear.
     ‘Sh, sh, shh. Good girl.’
     She looked around and listened. All stood calm on either side of the trail, but she heard a strange beating sound, as though someone were thumping their fist on a hollow log.
     ‘Diane,’ Rene whispered, ‘look!’
     She turned around and followed where the girl’s finger pointed. About ten yards away, beneath a gnarled rowan, sat a pale, sweating man all hunched over with his back to them. His right shoulder was bobbing vigorously, and he gasped and grunted like an injured faun.
     ‘What’s he doing?’ asked Rene.
     ‘Rrrofe! Rrofe, rrofe!’
     Bella’s hoarse barks jumped the man to his feet. He turned around, and both women had to look away once they saw where his hand was. A look of shock twisted his scraggly face a moment, then he dashed off, the dog still chastising him as he ran. Rene looked to her mother, whose hand shot to her mouth to stifle a giggle, and took her cue to start laughing as well. They watched the man almost trip over himself as he rounded a rocky outcrop and disappeared.
     ‘Um,’ Rene asked, ‘you were saying?’
     ‘Hm?’
     Rene raised a cheeky eyebrow. ‘About some men…?’
     ‘Er,’ Diane scratched the back of her neck, ‘some men are…’
     The dog stopped barking, eyed the pair of them as they chuckled, and let out a bewildered snort.
     ‘Some men are just lazy,’ Diane shrugged, ‘I guess.’
     Their laughter faded quickly as Diane saw Rene’s eyes veer over her shoulder. Turning back, she saw a pair of headlights approaching from the south.
     ‘Finally,’ she sighed, ‘my neck is killing me.’
     ‘What do we do?’
     ‘Just wait. They’ll help us when they get here.’
     The black jeep pulled up alongside them and two khaki-clad women emerged. Each had a massive pistol at her hip and a crimson beret on her head. They marched past without a word and lifted the man up on their shoulders.
     ‘Thank you,’ said Rene.
     ‘Mm-hm,’ the taller woman grunted.
     They dumped the man in the back without a word as Diane, Rene, and the dog climbed into the passenger seats. Once the driver settled in her seat she looked at the trio from her rear-view mirror. Both women leaned back against the headrests with closed eyes and open mouths. Bella whined impatiently.
     ‘Hope it’s worth it,’ the driver muttered before shifting into gear and turning the car around.

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