A Long Time Until Now Read Free Page B

bodies. “Lost” could be frightening. Knowing they were . . . this . . . was terrifying. Then he felt himself flush and shake.
    Devereaux ran for the rock, tugging at his fly. Dalton dithered a moment, then followed.
    “We see rhinos,” he said. “Presumably we’re in the Stone Age. It could be a recreation, some kind of image, or I could be having a drugged-out dream in ICU.” He hoped so. Please, let it be a messed-up dream. They’d been hit by an IED and he was hospitalized, recovering. Missing limbs would be better than this.
    Barker sounded surprisingly calm.
    “How did we get in the fucking Stone Age? That bang we heard?” He was smoking, too. Oglesby was chain lighting another and almost brushed the coal off as his hands shook.
    Spencer said, “That had to be it. I have no idea how, but that’s when everything went bugnuts.” He was crying.
    Barker’s voice was much softer as he asked, “And how do we get back?”
    Elliott saw they were all shaky, and he needed to keep discipline. He started talking, slowly and with measure, as he’d been taught by one of his mentors.
    “Listen up. Leak if you need to, then get back over here. I’m going to keep talking.
    “First, we’re going to deal with the immediate situation. We are a small unit, but we are large enough to support ourselves, and God willing, we’ll make this work.
    “I don’t have an answer on getting back. First we have to find out where and when we are. Then we need to survive and thrive. Then we focus on finding our way back.
    “I need fifteen minutes to make some notes. Then I’ll dictate our plan of attack.”
    Hopefully he could silently scream it all out in fifteen minutes. Or maybe he’d throw up.

    Martin Spencer was surprised he wasn’t more shocky. Woolly rhino, cool weather, lusher growth, no people. Time travel. There wasn’t any other explanation. Time travel was impossible, except in sci fi and movies, but it had obviously happened.
    His brain suddenly remembered an old joke. You may get drafted or not. If not, no worries. But if so, there are two possibilities. You may deploy or not. If you don’t, no worries . . . his mind raced through to the ending. If you get wounded, you may survive or not. If you survive, no worries, if not . . . but there are usually two possibilities.
    It was either time travel, or time travel. He was alive. He had people, tools, skills. Either they could get back or not. Always two possibilities if you looked for them.
    The LT, though, was sick with shock and fear, and he couldn’t think, and he was angry, and he couldn’t think.
    “Sir, can I offer some suggestions?”
    “No,” Elliott replied, gripping his rifle, trembling, and staring at the horizon.
    “Understood, sir.”
    That was bad. The man was shaking, wasn’t making decisions, and wasn’t all there. He needed backup. If the man wasn’t in command, the troops would panic all over the landscape.
    But a few moments later, Elliott turned around and gave orders.
    He said, “It’s dry but going to be cool tonight. Dress as you need to for the weather, let’s hang some ponchos or tarps around the wheels like lean-tos, and we can sleep under there tonight. We don’t have much fuel, but I want a small fire in that crack in the rock. Two people on watch as I said, and keep feeding grass stalks to it if nothing else. The smoke will help with bugs.”
    The ponchos went up in a few minutes, but no one crawled into the shelter.
    Dalton said, “If it’s okay with you, sir, I’ll be first watch.”
    “You and me, then,” he agreed.
    It was pretty clear no one was going to sleep. Elliott could order it, but it wouldn’t work.
    Still, he was giving orders. That was good. Spencer added, “Keep the fire small. Light, a little heat, a little smoke.”
    “How about three on watch, sir?” Barker asked. “We can keep an eye out in three arcs at once.”
    If there were rhinos, there might be mammoths, bears and sabertooths, and he