POV: Lennox Miller

  Hunger made his stomach twitch with discomfort. The basket of berries had been neither tasty nor filling. They had large seeds, and their flesh wasn’t very sweet. He craved the sweet taste of a strawberry, and would give anything for an avocado. But none existed in this hellscape.

  He had been sweating ever since he arrived here. But he refused to behave like the hillbillies he was trapped with. He had watched in horror as Jack and the other barbarians had bathed in mud before running off into the woods. To make matters even worse, the fools had brought the only taming artifact they had with them. Now the tribe of idiots had nothing to defend themselves with but some dumb Triceratops wannabes that were half the size of the real deal. Yet they seemed to produce the same amount of shit every day if the growing pile on the south side of the camp was anything to go by.

  Lennox had been considering taking some of the tools and heading north to find a real tribe of civilized people. But he had yet to convince any of the others that they were doomed unless they found more competent people to lead them. Marcus was a middle manager at some insignificant business. He had been working a dead end job in a small town, and did not have the education or experience to properly lead the tribe.

  He had a college degree, he had studied history and art and culture. He was the clear choice to be incharge, but everyone took one look at his nice clothes and had been intimidated by him. Now he was being ostracized. They wanted him to do manual labor like a common worker. He had made it clear that his skills were much better suited to recording the history of this disaster and leading them to a prosperous future.

  Another pang of hunger caused the rant building in his head to come to a stop. He looked down at his basket of berry seeds. It may as well have been empty with only the dark brown berries that looked too close to rabbit poop to be appealing left. Marcus had claimed that the alien artifact had scanned them and they were safe to eat, but that just showed that Marcus was willing to trust the monsters who had gotten them all into this mess. They should be looking for a way home, not taking their false handouts designed to make them reliant on the aliens.

  When his stomach grumbled again, he forced himself to get up and walk over to the lunch lady and get more. He sighed as he stood. The camp stank, and his request to have some water heated so he could take an actual shower had been laughed at. The audacity of these people to think that such basic hygiene was beneath them. He shook his head with disgust. He would need to find a way to properly dry clean his clothes soon.

  Before he had made it thirty feet from the shade he had been resting in, a strong hand grabbed him on the shoulder and spun him around. Lennox nearly fell over from the brute force, then nearly fell over again from the smell of Marcus as the old man scowled at him. He wasn’t sure what the wannabe leader wanted, but Lennox figured he could play the game with Marcus and weaken his social position in the eyes of the others. That would make convincing them all to abandon this fool and listen to his wisdom much easier. He pulled himself up, looking the tired man in the eyes, as he brushed the dirty hand off his shoulder.

  Two of the larger men in the tribe stood just behind Marcus, who still had his broken arm in a makeshift sling. None of the men wore shirts, one of them wore camo pants, and the other was dressed in the simple kilts that Taressa had created. Their legs and arms showed evidence of bug bites that proved Lennox’s decision to keep his fine suit on was objectively correct, even if he was sweating more than them. He didn’t remember the larger men’s names, but they looked strong enough to handle some of the smaller dinosaurs on their own. Once they were on his side, they would be useful.

  “Linux.” Marcus started in his best diplomatic tone.

  “It’s Lennox.” He said haughtily. He needed to remind Marcus of his place. If he couldn't even get Lennox’s name right, how could he be expected to lead them correctly.

  The two men behind Marcus smirked causing Lennox to smile.

  “Lennox.” Marcus said with obvious displeasure. “If you don’t get off your ass and help the tribe, I will be forced to banish you. The council met on this last night. You have been a drain on resources and morale. The decision was unanimous.” His voice was cool and composed, showing only a hint of irritation from Lennox’s previous taunts.

  “You can’t do that. I demand a trial! A lawyer!” He shouted, half on impulse, half in genuine fear. This was not the way it was supposed to go. Marcus should be the one getting banished, not him. He was special. He was the only one who understood how the culture of this growing society should be formed.

  Marcus shook his head in annoyance.

  “No. This isn't America. There are less than a hundred people here. Our first law is that everyone contributes, and you haven’t been.” He explained.

  Lennox wanted to run. To punch the hillbilly who thought that he was better than him. But running wouldn't help. And if he tried to punch Marcus they would probably throw him out even faster if not just kill him right then and there.

  “Calm down.” Marcus snapped at him, temporarily breaking him out of his spiraling panic attack.

  “We aren’t banishing you, YET. You have a chance to be useful, to earn a place here. We have a pile of clay. I asked you days ago to figure out how to make a kiln with it. Put your fancy art degree to use. Once we can make pottery, we can boil more water, and store food. We currently have more and more people getting sick because we can’t boil the water fast enough. Is that something you can do?” Marcus asked calmly, maintaining eye contact.

  “I... Yes. I can do that.” Lennox mumbled. His heart still threatened to bust out of his chest as his anxiety continued to spiral.

  “Good.” Marcus said with a sigh, some of the anger leaving his eyes.

  “It’s too difficult to survive here, Lennox. This isn’t Earth. We need everyone's help to survive. Even yours. We can’t allow freeloaders, and if you don’t start contributing I will banish you.” He finished his harsh words. Each one felt like a physical blow to Lennox’s heart and ego. He could feel the tears building in the corners of his eyes as he fought down the panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. All he could do was nod in quiet acceptance.

  One of the men who had been beside Marcus started to lead him towards the pile of clay that they had kept wet using the spray from the waterfall. It looked like a massive pile of shit that Lennox did not want to sink his hands in. They would get filthy, and he would certainly stain his clothes. It was just like that backwater hick, Marcus, to demand such demeaning work from him. He would get his revenge. But this had been eye opening. He didn’t have as many people on his side as he thought. He would have to win over the simple folk first, then he could turn the tides on Marcus.

  He examined the man who was guarding him. He wore camouflage jeans and had long black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. His lack of shirt showed off his hard earned muscles. Though he wasn’t the largest man in the tribe, he was clearly fit and used to manual labor of some kind. He had a metal knife on his belt, one of the few that the tribe had, and an extremely valuable tool. If he could get this man on his side, it would be a huge win for him. Now if only he could remember his name. Tom? Harrold? He wasn’t sure.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  He took a moment to center himself. He pushed down all the anger at Marcus and the other scum he was forced to be with. He composed his face, and started to think of the perfect things to say to get this man to follow him.

  “Hey, Tom.” Lennox said with confidence. “If you don’t mind, I have a question.”

  The man turned to look at him. His eyebrow raised. For the first time Lennox noticed that he had narrow green eyes.

  “You were in the army right? Why are you letting Marcus give you orders? Shouldn’t someone with more qualifications be in charge?” If he remembered correctly and Tom was in the army, he should be predisposed towards following orders and respecting authority, but only if that authority was worthy of respect. Lennox was sure he could convince the man to see things his way.

  Tom shook his head and snorted with derision. “First of all, my name is Haden. Secondly, pull your head out of your ass and get to work. I’m here to make sure nothing comes to eat you, and to make sure you actually do the work. All you have done is laze around and complain. If you had cared to contribute you would have seen that Marcus has been working his ass off to help everyone, even with a broken arm. What have you done?” His glare was as sharp as his words.

  Lennox flinched at the harsh tone and cutting words. He scowled at Haden, but when he opened his mouth to respond, the brute just pointed to the pile of clay.

  “Linnix. I have been given permission to treat you like an army recruit if you make yourself a problem. So save us both the headache and get the fuck to work.” His tone was low, aggressive, almost with a hint of excitement at the idea of tormenting Lennox.

  He shuddered, and his pride, already wounded by Marcus, was poked full of more holes. He wiped the tears from his eyes and started to take off his shirt. It was far too nice to get covered in clay. He would just have to accept that his pants would get dirty. They had already been sweated in for far too long.

  Haden found a spot in the shade by the cliff wall. He climbed up a few feet to rest on one of the natural ledges and looked out over the surrounding area. Lennox sat down beside the clay after he had removed and stored his clothes. He had to grit his teeth to hold back the sobs. His fingers started to dig into the clay. He had to add more water, but the waterfall provided. He had taken pottery classes before. But he wasn’t sure how to actually build a kiln. The ones he used had been made of metal and powered with gas. He didn’t know if the clay would harden right if he used a campfire, but he supposed it was worth a shot.

  After an hour had passed and he had stopped thinking about revenge and petty complaints against Marcus and the tribe leadership, Lennox actually started to make progress. He figured that his best bet would be to make a simple brick. Then he could test out different methods of hardening the clay, and build a proper kiln out of whichever one works best. He shaped the bricks easily enough, making sure to work them first and ensure no bubbles were trapped inside the brick. He made two dozen, each around a foot long, six inches wide, and three inches tall. He took pride in making them all very uniform.

  He then split them into several different test batches. The first he laid out on a sunny spot near the cliff wall. Because the cliff was south facing, it would get sun most of the day. It might still take a day or two to dry them fully, but it would be a good control. Haden watched him without saying a word. He had been making stone spears as he had watched over the camp. Lennox thought he was going to doze off, maybe give him a chance to take the knife, but the man was stubbornly perceptive.

  The second batch he brought to the largest bonfire. It was midday, and the fire had gotten lower. Mavis and her team of crafters were sitting around it, working on various projects. It looked like half the team was trying to improve the stone tools they had made so far, with piles of broken rocks at their feet, and the other half of them were working on trying to sew primitive clothing out of the rough twine they had created.

  Lennox had to admit that they were clever for figuring that out. But the twine was of such low quality that it hadn’t interested him. He would wait until they had real supplies to have a custom outfit made.

  “Mavis, would you put these bricks into the large bonfire pit before it is built up again tonight? I need to get them as hot as possible, and they will need to dry inside the fire for a long time. It's best to just do it overnight.” He requested.

  The younger woman looked up at him from her seat. She had deep bags under her eyes, and looked both worn out and sad. One of the women beside her made an ugly expression as she glared at Lennox, but Mavis stopped her before the women could speak.

  “Sure. Just leave them beside the fire. You can pick them up in the morning.” She said, gesturing to a flat rock beside the fireplace. He quickly nodded and placed the four bricks down. He was tempted to take a break now, his stomach was killing him. But Haden had gotten off his mighty perch and was stalking towards him. Lennox headed back to the clay, and Haden stopped to watch.

  Lennox grabbed the final two sets of bricks and walked over to where the builders were working. Miles, the young man who had been appointed the leader of the construction and had been injured fighting the monster on the first day, was in the process of building the walls of the settlement. Most of the encampment had been enclosed by now, with the last section being finished today. They had needed to expand the original design to make room for a large stable that would eventually be built, but for now it was just home to the three Styracosaurus that gave Lennox the creeps. If they were cleaner creatures he could have appreciated them, from afar. But their habit of shitting in large piles and not being very picky about what they ate made them disgusting in his eyes. He had thought them gentle herbivores at first, until he watched the grumpy one Karen kill and eat a Compy. It was barbaric.

  “Miles. Do you have a minute?” He asked. The young man stepped over to talk with him. A look of curiosity on his face rather than the contempt most of the other tribe members looked at him with.

  “Sure. What do you need?” He asked. It was clear that Miles was badly suffering from a deep sunburn from the long days without proper clothing out here, but he had a smile on his face. Lennox had to keep his own fake smile up when he noticed the younger man had something between his teeth.

  “Well, I am in the process of trying to fire some clay. I think I know of a good way to do it, the same way some Native American tribes used to. But I need some help digging a shallow hole, and filling it with lots of kindling. I wanted to borrow some of your people and ask if you know where some looser soil is. This rocky soil here would be difficult to dig through.” Lennox explained. He figured it would be good to get the man’s help with the digging, but also show that he could work well with others and get permission before he dug up a place that was already marked off as somewhere a future building was going to go.

  Miles thought for a minute, then called two of the guys who had been on a break over. They both had shovels, and looked bored.

  “James, Roy, would you two help Linux build the experimental kiln? Just dig a ditch and help him gather the firewood. Put it over by the tanning hut. We want to put anything with a lot of smoke or other unpleasant smells over there. I have no idea how much fire you are going to need, but once we are further along we can make a proper building for a brick furnace or something. This will be a temporary solution.” Miles explained. Both men sighed, but didn’t argue. Lennox however, was not interested in being anywhere near the mad hunter.

  “WHAT!?” He shouted, causing several people to look over at him with confusion.

  “I will not be working near that disgusting place. The tanning shack should be burned down. It’s a barbaric disgrace to a civilized society.” He said arrogantly.

  Suddenly there was a sharp flash of pain at the top of his head. He turned around to see Haden had slapped him. He hadn’t even noticed the man approaching. Tears welled in his eyes.

  “You slapped me. How dare you!” Lennox spluttered.

  Haden slapped him again. His eyes were cold. “Get a hold of yourself, you spoiled brat. We don’t have the luxury of throwing temper tantrums at every inconvenience. Go dig your hole, and stop bitching.”

  Tears were rolling down Lennox’s face at the pain of the slaps. He had never been struck before. In the old world, no one would have dared. He would have sued them. His parents would have taken them to court and made sure they were ruined.

  Snot started to fall from his nose, and he vowed to himself that he would get revenge on this stupid tribe and their backwards ways. He would destroy them. He would see to it that they regretted making him lower himself like this. He snatched the shovel out of one of the man's hands and stormed off. He would bide his time. Make them rely on him. Then ruin them.

  He couldn’t hold back the tears and sobs as he dug the hole. The stench from the tanning shack made him want to vomit. But he hadn’t eaten anything today, so nothing came out. The hole slowly grew. The physical work took some effort and it was beneath him, but it wasn’t hard. He only needed it to be a half foot deep and long enough to fit the bricks and burn for a while. When he was done, he lined the pit with flat rocks then placed the clay inside and started gathering kindling.

  The sawdust from the wall’s construction wasn’t very fine, but it would do for this and they had plenty of it. It was more like wood chips, so he made sure to add in some of the dried grasses. Once the hole was full, he lit it on fire. He would sit there until the sun set, plotting his revenge as the clay slowly hardened.