Episode 1 - The Red Faces (3)
Females and young ones are the heart of the group.
This wasn't just some pretty words. Young males strutted to catch the females' eyes, females birthed and raised the young, and the young grew by watching those adults—becoming new members of the group in turn.
So a group stripped of its females couldn't hold together for long. The very reason to stay gathered vanished.
That Red Face Alpha seemed to know it too.
And as leader, I couldn't just stand by and watch. But a head-on fight against that brute—bigger than the rest of us by a full head, two heads taller than me? No chance of winning.
So...
"We have to use tools!!"
One side of the nest held a pile of dry branches we'd gathered for firewood. I hurled myself toward it, snatching the thickest, sturdiest one within reach.
Pre-cut for the fire, it came free easier than expected.
Gripping it tight, I spun. The Red Face Alpha was already charging toward the females and young.
Too late, and it was over.
Clenching my teeth, I launched my body forward with everything I had, swinging the branch.
Thud!
A dull, horrific squish rippled through my fingers.
For a moment, even I didn't grasp what I'd done.
But then I saw it. The branch tip had splintered sharp by chance, and it was buried deep in his flank.
The Red Face Alpha's body lurched. His reaching arm flailed at empty air, and he staggered sideways before collapsing.
The wound was deep. He might not die right away, but he wouldn't rampage like before.
I twisted, yanking the branch free.
Squelch.
Dark red blood gushed from his side. He growled low, clutching the wound, but it seeped between his fingers.
I seized the moment, scooping up a nearby spear. Panting, he faced me head-on.
"Why attack us?"
That was the burning question. The jungle was vast. Our spot was prime, sure—but desperate enough to stake the whole group on it? Who knew.
In answer, he bared bloodied teeth in a grin. Too ragged for a laugh, too wretched.
"To... live."
His voice broke, breath ragged. But his eyes burned with unnatural clarity.
"Plenty here. Enough to take you in too."
He shook his head—just a fraction. Muttered like I was clueless, mocking.
"No such land... left."
Each word came with a blood-flecked exhale.
"All lands... scarce. Sky dries. Ground dries. Marshes gone. River bare, fish dead..."
I stared down in silence.
He pressed his hand harder to his side but never broke eye contact. Beyond the red-smeared face, his gaze held no rage, no fear, no defeat.
Conviction. They hadn't charged mad—they truly had nowhere left to retreat.
"The world... is drying up..."
With that, the Red Face Alpha's head drooped. Strength drained from his limbs like water; his arm sagged, the hand blocking his wound slid to the dirt.
And he was gone.
***
With their alpha dead, the Red Faces surrendered on the spot.
Bodies low, palms raised—they showed they ranked below us.
Fourteen.
Dead from both sides: six from ours, eight from theirs.
They still outnumbered us, but spirit broken, they huddled in the corner, shrunk small.
I watched a moment, then lifted my fallen comrades' bodies and started walking. The group stared, then followed suit, hoisting their dead.
I turned to the Red Faces.
"You carry yours. Follow."
Couldn't leave the bodies. Couldn't dump them anywhere.
Predators would smell blood, swarm. Today's win meant nothing if tomorrow became hell—with them tasting human flesh near the nest, we'd be lucky to just guard the fire every night.
I walked on without a word. Behind, our group and the Red Faces trailed slow, each bearing their dead.
Minutes ago, we'd been ripping each other apart. Now we marched the same way. But one thought looped in my head.
The world is drying...
Not just dry season.
Two and a half million years ago, Africa blended wetlands, jungle, savanna. But ice buildup at the poles made it unstable—shifting endlessly over decades, sometimes centuries.
To the life inside, it was apocalypse.
Water flowed yesterday, mud today, cracked earth tomorrow. Beasts chased water, predators chased beasts, humans got shoved last.
The Red Faces were just the first wave to hit us. If he spoke true, this wasn't the end—it was the start.
And if what I'd learned held...
Forests would shrink, grasslands spread. Inland deserts creep in.
Humanity, driven from the trees to the plains.
Our fate.
Lost in that, we reached familiar ground: flanked by massive boulders, ringed in bone-dry red earth.
Where my mother—and the alpha before me—lay buried.
Thankfully, the stone tombs stood untouched. So dry, so airy—no rot stench.
I set down my dead beside them, piling rocks big and small.
Truth was, this changed nothing for survival.
Hauling bodies here, building graves? Pure energy waste. Bait for predators.
But I couldn't quit it. We weren't quite human yet—but we were human enough.
As the first tombs rose, the Red Faces glanced, then mimicked.
"This one Bboong, good guy. Put with."
Caesar sidled up, folding his bola neat beside a corpse, like it slept. Others did too.
Bones for some. Fruits or branches a favorite had loved.
Deep grief etched their faces.
Thus, fourteen new tombs stood before us.
***
Back at the nest, settled, Caesar and Ace found me. Their feats in the fight had boosted rank—old males bowed heads, stepped aside.
"Boss."
"What?"
"Keep those ones?"
Caesar nodded at the huddled Red Faces. They couldn't leave, just clustered anxious.
"...What you want?"
"Usually kill."
"Sometimes eat."
I scowled instinctive.
Cannibalism cropped up plenty in primates. Chimps especially—victors devoured losers or weak young after turf wars.
"Never eat."
Ace looked baffled.
"Why?"
"Eat kin, get sick."
"Not kin."
"Are. Just different group."
Caesar stayed sour. Ace cocked head.
"Faces different."
"Fur shade off."
"Smell off."
Expected. They eyed strange scents in our group warily. No wonder after trying to kill each other.
But I held firm.
"Look hands."
I spread mine, chin-pointed at the crouching Red Faces.
"They got hands. Feet. Throw rock, break rock. Bleed red when hurt. Sad when die."
Caesar and Ace turned, silent.
Some Red Faces twitched at our gaze, but the hands piling grave-stones? Pure heart. They'd cried, hesitated, left offerings by their dead.
No different from us.
"So never eat. Ever."
I weighted it heavy.
"Eat them, belly full maybe. Then we eat us."
They didn't fully get it. But knew I hated it bad.
Ace smacked lips, grumbled.
"Looked bad taste anyway."
"Yeah, bad taste."
Good enough. Cannibalism's downsides crushed upsides.
I rose, approached the Red Faces. They flinched as one, curling tighter. A few grabbed stones reflex—but spotted Caesar and Ace behind me, clubs and bola ready. Hands froze.
Power gap clear, at least.
I stopped before them.
What now.
Easiest: chase 'em off. But they'd get absorbed lucky—or eaten whole. Predators tasting human near here? Bad.
And six dead gutted our strength bad.
So after thought...
"You lost."
Their shoulders quivered faint.
"You attacked. Killed ours. Your alpha died by my hand."
I paused.
Fear bloomed on their faces.
"But no kill."
Eyes lifted a hair.
"Condition."
Spear-tip scratched dirt—a shallow line between us and them.
"No grab weapon first. No near hot-center till say. Touch young-female, kill. Share food, but you work first. Guard first. Scout danger first."
Some glanced each other.
"And."
I met eyes one by one.
"Tell dry lands you see. Dried water. Dead beast spots. Predator packs."
Thumped chest.
"Then live."
Pointed them.
"Under us."
Silence fell.
Then the oldest-looking female crawled slow forward. Trembling hand offered a stone.
Truth: no choice.
Solitary meant dead. Even together, outside baked dry. Had to go under us.
Losers joined victors—standard after scraps.
I took her hand first, head bowed.
"Now."
As words flowed, Red Faces lifted heads slow.
"You my group."
That done, something drifted down from sky.
Flutter, flutter.
Wind-borne: one yellowed, withered leaf. Common fall leaf—but it felt wrong, deeply uneasy.