50 Million Years from Now

Act 9

The rain fell from the sky like water off a cliff. The clouds were dark preventing any sunlight from reaching the ground. The rain was a relief to some creatures, amphibians frolicking in the wet grass, some reptiles coming out of their holes to cool off, but for others all the rain did was dampen their spirits. And none were more dampened than those of the hunting party hiding in the brush, the green leaves acting as slight shelter but not enough for everyone.

Vall was the closest to their target, a large trunked antelope, although calling it a trunk was an overstatement. Really the protrusion that covered its nose was little more than a large flap of skin that would inflate to increase the volume of its calls, much like the hadrosaurs of the Mesozoic. Other than this strange appendage it didn't look any different than its ancestors. The trunked antelopes were one of the few animals excited about this damp weather. No one including the Black beaks knew why they liked the rain so much. They just seemed to enjoy it. The Black beaks on the other hand were not so thrilled. Their feathers were soaked, their spears slippery and difficult to grip, but most annoying of all was the fact that they were cold, and Black beaks did not like being cold.

"Come on Vall! We've been hiding in here for hours!" Zenith said.

"Listen. I'm just as cold and wet as you are but this could be our only chance in a long while to get a trunked antelope, especially one as big as that one," Vall replied pointing one of his talons at a huge male that stood a few meters away.

Its long legs seemed too thin to carry its body and its long and slightly curved horns looked like pillars that held up the heavens. But despite its massive size, it would not be able to see the hunting party unless it was three meters in front of it, for trunked antelopes had the poorest eyesight of their family. Instead they relied on their hearing for safety and the constant downpour of the rain was a perfect cover for the Black beaks.

"We must wait just a little bit longer," Vall said.

The large male then came closer to their hiding spot.

"Now?"

"Not yet."

The animal got even closer.

"Now?"

"No, not yet."

Finally, it was right in front of them.

"NOW!!!" Vall screeched as he thrust his spear forward, the sharpened tip piercing the chest of the trunked antelope.

The herbivore reared up on its back legs, swinging its forelegs forward as the wooden spear stuck out of it like a fifth limb. Zenith then leapt out of his hiding spot and rammed his spear into one of the animal's back legs. As he sprang backwards, the animal fell like a great tree. The other trunked antelopes inflated their large skin flaps and let out a strong blasting bellow before turning around and running. As the straggler tried to get back up, other Black beaks began to spear it. Soon, the trunked antelope looked like a porcupine. Some of the hunters grabbed rocks and began smashing them on its head until it stopped moving. The hunt was successful.

"Now that is what a true head-hunter looks like," a large Black beak said as he pointed to Vall.

"It... it was nothing," Vall replied.

"Nothing? Vall, that plan worked perfectly!" Zenith chimed in.

"Please, everyone... I don't deserve it. Anyway, Kay will soon enough be the head-hunter again."

"Well then, at least when he runs out of time, he can be sure that he will have a good replacement," another Black beak squawked.

"Why do you use words like replacement? I don't feel like I would be replacing him or anything."

"Vall is right," one of the older Black beaks commented. "Replace is not a word that we should use. No one can truly replace anyone. Same thing will go for Vall and Kay when the time comes. They both have their own way of hunting. And same thing goes for all the others before us. We are all different and yet the same. That is what makes us, Black beaks, special. And yet, at the same time, it is the same thing with the creatures with which we share this world. They too are unique in their own ways. So, are we really special?" Her words resonated through the flock like an echo through a canyon.

"Wise words as usual," Zenith said, "but now, shouldn't we be carving this one up before we get colder?" he asked tearing his spear out of the trunked antelope's body. This comment caused some laughter to come out of the group.

But unbeknownst to the Black beaks, the spilled blood of the trunked antelope attracted something – something larger, stronger, and meaner than any other predator on the savannah. A huge Grass stalker had picked up the scent of blood. Its large body was being carried by four tree-trunk-like legs. A long robust snout housed 116 teeth, each razor-sharp. Cold soulless eyes looked around. Each water droplet hit its body and exploded like bombs dropped on a battlefield. The greyish yellow scales on its body hid it from prying eyes. It dragged its long tail behind it. The large crocodilian crept closer and closer to the Black beaks. The seven-meter long beast was now only ten meters away. Its sense of smell told it there were Black beaks nearby. Its muscles tensed. Its claws dug into the ground. It was about to rush them. Its mouth opened revealing its gleaming teeth. And then it pounced.

Its large body easily crashed through the grass and shrubs. Dirt was being torn out of the ground as it did so. But this sudden explosion of movement caught the Black beaks' attention. They turned to see the crocodilian, only a few feet away.

"SCATTER!!!" shouted Zenith. Soon all the Black beaks tossed themselves into the air.

As Vall and the other Black beaks flew off, he suddenly felt a strong pull on his spear. The sudden extra weight caused him to fall back to the ground. He turned around to see the Grass stalker looking at him dead in the eyes. Vall tried to fly off, but the crocodilian forced him back to the ground with its snout. It towered above him and opened its jaws ready to bite down on him. Vall reached for his spear and thrust it upwards. The wooden weapon was driven into the massive predator's nostril. The Grass stalker reeled back in pain as blood gushed out of the newly formed hole. Vall tore out the spear and with one last desperate leap, he flew off as the Grass stalker snapped its jaws in the air, enraged.

"Vall! Vall! Are you okay?" Zenith cried out as he flew to his side.

"I'm fine... I'm fine..."

"Good. Good. It was quite the risk you took Vall, spearing it in the snout," Zenith then added.

"I didn't have any choice," Vall replied although he understood what Zenith meant. If his spear hadn't hit a sensitive spot, he could have lost a leg or worse.

"We were about to help you, but we couldn't find a chink in its armour," Zenith said. Vall looked down at Zenith's spear. The tip had been broken off, probably from unsuccessfully trying to penetrate the Grass stalker's hide.

"At least you did your best," Vall told him as they made their way back to the cave. Vall then realized something. He quickly asked if anyone had had the time to successfully gather some meat. But a quick look at everyone's empty spears told him all he needed to know. Vall then glanced back at the site of their hunt only to see their hard-earned meal being torn to pieces by the Grass stalker. Vall felt as bad as the weather. He had worked so hard and had nothing to show for it.