David Golemon - Primeval

The look on Jack's face wasn't exactly what she had been hoping for. He bit his lower lip, and then after a second, as though the slight frown had never been there at all, he actually smiled. "You know I love you, and one of the reasons I fell in love with you was your confidence in yourself. You, of all the women I have ever known, didn't need reassurance on a constant basis. You knew how I felt."

"You surely don't have a clue about women, Colonel Collins," she said, still holding his blue eyes with her own.

Jack chuckled and then nodded. "Okay, I love you, and I hope that makes up for all the other times I wanted to say it, but couldn't."

Sarah smiled and batted her eyelashes, which Jack saw and shook his head.

Helena Petrovich waited silently on the long, covered porch of the store. She had been awakened early by the signals throughout the night by the Chulimantan. The constant hitting of the trees and the unrhythmic beat made her toss and turn. It had been almost twelve years since they had heard the beating of the clubs so close to the camp, and she asked herself why they had ventured this far down from the north. It was causing her a sleepless night.

The beating had stopped about an hour before the sun rose and its rays started reflecting off of the moving Stikine. She had gone into the store an hour before and told Marla it was almost time to get the frozen bait for the Tlingit Indians to start their day fishing. She heard the girl moving around in the back of the store as she sat in her large rocker and listened to the sound of the many fishermen as they walked through the woods on the beaten-down path of a hundred years that wound its way down from the hills and mountains that surrounded the small fishing camp.

She waved and nodded her morning greeting to those that raised their hands to Helena. They were surprised to see her out so early, as she usually was inside getting their bait for the morning fishing. Several of the older Indians knew exactly why she was out that morning — they had also heard the constant thumping of wood on wood throughout the night, and they, as she, had gotten very little sleep.

"Thanks for the help!" Marla said as she kicked the front door open with her arms full of the white butcher's paper-wrapped bait. Sixteen packages for eight boats.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart — I just didn't feel up to facing that stinky mess this mornin'."

"Oh, but it's okay for me to?" Marla asked as she made her way down the wooden steps.

The old woman didn't answer as she watched her granddaughter move her small frame toward the river and the waiting fishermen. She smiled to herself as Marla handed out the mornings bait, and laughed and joked with the old Indians, and fended off the sly smiles of the younger ones. After her arms were empty, Marla adjusted the knitted cap she wore and then waved at the fishermen as they shoved off from shore, starting their small engines as they headed up or down river. Marla started back to the store, then she paused a moment and turned toward the tree line. She stopped completely in her tracks, and the old woman could see the girl was sensing something. Marla was so in tune to the river and woods, nothing could escape her knowing that something was different. Helena wondered if the girl had heard the Chulimantan the same as herself during the night.

"What is it?" the old woman called from the porch, standing and letting the rocker sway back and forth by itself.

Marla looked at her grandmother, and then back at the woods to her left. Then she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "Nothing I guess — just thought I — oh, never mind."

Helena watched as Marla started walking back to the store. Her eyes went to the woods where the girl had been looking. She, too, was feeling something — she couldn't put a handle on that particular cup, but she knew something was indeed watching from the woods.

Suddenly Marla stopped and listened, and then she clapped her hands as she heard a familiar sound coming from a distance. The old woman now seemed to relax somewhat as the same sound finally reached her ears.

"You didn't tell me Charlie Kemp was coming, Grandmother!" Marla shouted and clapped once more.

Helena shook her head and smiled. Marla loved the visits by the Mounties, especially Kemp. The RCMP sergeant always took her up in the Bell Ranger helicopter and then afterward supplied her with all of the gossip coming out of Vancouver and Seattle. Charlie was only about seven years older than Marla, and every time the girl returned to school, he would almost wilt and fall from the vine. The relationship was innocent enough, at least on Marla's side of the river, but Helena knew Charlie had a schoolboy crush that would only be called off by time and distance.

Marla put her hand to her brow and blocked out the rise of the morning sun when she finally spied the red and white helicopter as it shot low over the trees with a loud whine of its engine. On the sides of the Bell Jet Ranger were the gold-painted crown of the Canadian government, and on the tail boom read RCMP.

As the Ranger set down in almost the same spot as the Russians helicopters the day before, Marla ran to the door and pulled it open. She screamed aloud, she was so happy at seeing Charlie Kemp. The young sergeant didn't even wait for the turning blades to stop before he had thrown off his headset and jumped from the pilot's seat, and then smiling and yelling himself, picked the young girl up and twirled her around.

As Helena watched from the porch railing, she smiled, and then saw that Charlie wasn't alone. She was stunned to see the commander of the RCMP station at Jackson's Bluff, Captain Dar Wilcox, climb from the backseat, and he also had Corporal Winnie Johnstone in tow. Three men in all — that meant they had taken Helena's call very serious indeed.

"Well, well, Captain Dar, why do we have the pleasure of having the commander of the northern territory to our humble camp?" Helena asked as she moved to the opening in the porch where she waited at the top of the wooden steps.

Dar Wilcox removed his green bush hat and looked around the camp. He had a serious look on his tanned face.

"Damn, did those Indians already start their day?" he asked as he wiped a bit of sweat from his brow.

"Just missed them, why?" she asked as the captain bound up the stairs and put his arm around the old woman and hugged her to him.

"Well, with that call of yours, I don't want anyone running into these fellas until we can find them and check out just what their story is, aay?" He looked around and then finally down at the old woman. "Just how in the hell are ya, Helena?"

"Tolerable, Dar, just tolerable, I've been enjoying Marla's company lately."

Wilcox looked down at Charlie and Marla, who were laughing as they approached the store with Corporal Winnie Johnstone in tow.

"Looks like you're not the only one enjoying her company," he said as he finally released her. "You did good calling us. Speaking of which, Winnie, get in there and let the base know we arrived alive, and we'll keep in contact from time to time."

"You plan on staying a while, Dar?" the old woman asked as the other mountie stepped onto the porch.

"Yeah, maybe a day or two. Figure after we find out what those Russian boys are doin,' we might throw a line into the river and see what we can take back home with us."

"That's good, Dar, real good. I know how hard you Mounties work," Helena said with a jab in the captain's rib cage.

"You better watch it, us Canucks don't take to joking about our work!" he said as everyone laughed.

As they entered the store, several dark shadows moved from the deeper parts of the surrounding woods and finally made their presence known to the sun and river.