Darwin's Quest: The Search for the Ultimate Survivor by Jonathan P. Brazee Page A

players. And if this was part of our season’s twist, we sure couldn’t figure it out.
    “It’s just a simple crapper,” Josh said sourly. “What can go wrong with it?”
    “Well you go into it and tell me if it reminds you of a dozen roses then.” The tension was making us all little on edge.
    Josh just ignored her and put another piece of wood on the fire.
    “Try this,” said Mike, handing me my spear , in which he had jammed the fat end of a piece of flint into its hollow center, a somewhat pointy end protruding from the tip. Ratt had laboriously stripped a piece of vine into thinner pieces of, well string, I guessed you would call it, and Mike had used that to bind the flint in place. This was his second attempt. The first attempt had been to bind a sharp piece of flint to the side of Josh’s spear, but after Josh tried thrusting it about, the flint fell off. So I had Flint Spear 2.0. I stood up and jabbed it back and forth. It stayed in place. I moved over to the log bench, intending to stab it when Mike called out.
    “Stop! That flint is pretty brittle, and you’re probably going to snap it if you stab that.”
    I looked back at him. “Well, what good is it going to do me then, if I can’t stab with it?”
    “Well, if another T-Rex tries to take a bite out of you, maybe snapping a piece of flint off in him wouldn’t be such a bad idea?”
    I grunted. He was right. I was letting the mood get me pissy. I brought the tip of my spear to my forehead in a salute, only half in jest.
    Josh rolled his eyes. “If you two are done with your little love-fest, I’m going to get some more wood.” He got up and left the camp and out to the bridge. Darwin’s Quest made some things hard, but some things were easy. We had an abundance of vines and wood right outside the entrance to the camp on either side of the bridgehead. So we didn’t have to go into Indian Country as some other seasons’ casts had to do.
    I handed my spear to Hamlin who inspected it closely, finally grunting in approval. “You think you could make me one now?” he asked Mike.
    “Alfhid’s next, but sure, I can get you one after that.” He glanced over his shoulder to where Josh had walked out. I knew what he was thinking. As a member of Josh’s alliance, he probably should make Josh one before he made one for Hamlin. But Josh was being a pain lately, and I had the feeling that our alliances were not as solid and unbreakable as those from most other seasons.
    “At this moment, for you, I will make one.” Borlinga looked up from her knapping.
    Hamlin looked at her and shrugged. “Sure, thanks.”
    Josh came back into camp without any wood. “Guys, I think you need to see this.” He jerked his head toward the entrance.
    I looked at the others. Hamlin just shrugged and stood up to go see. The rest of us followed. We got to the bridgehead and looked around.
    “OK, Josh, just what do we have to see?”
    “Look down there, down where we walked today. And listen.”
    It was hard to hear over the roar of the water below, but I thought I could hear a growling and snarling in the distance. And if I looked closely, I could see some bushes thrashing.
    “Isn’t that about where we left Paul? And I’m betting that those ain’t no St. Bernards.”
    He was right. We walked down the trail in that direction, and that was about the right distance.
    What could be making that disturbance?
    All of us looked around again at each other. I clutched my new spear tighter.
    Hamlin watched the distance for a moment before turning around and starting back to camp.
    “Where you’re going?” challenged Josh.
    “Back to get something to eat.”
    “Don’t you think we need to do something?”
    “Like what, pray tell?” Hamlin stopped walking and looked back at Josh.
    “I don’t know. Maybe like go see what’s up?”
    “And what good will that do? Or did we get a Challenge that no one told me about?”
    “In case you haven’t noticed, things are a