After Earth

Gart  strode quickly across his tribe's temporary camp site; his anger and fear plain upon his broad features. Those who saw him did not dare to delay him and fell silently in behind to follow. By the time he had reached the small animal hide shelter that belonged to the tribe's leader, Tarthiak, Gart had gathered a considerable entourage. Not bothering with customary greetings, Gart called out, "Tarthiak, we must speak right now." His voice carried through the camp site, hoarse and rasping. Tarthiak emerged from her tent, a look of startlement and relief upon her face. "Gart, thank goodness, we thought we had lost you. What took you so long in returning to us? Was there trouble?" Gart held up a hand to stall her questions and said simply, "Come, we must talk privately." With that he turned and began across the camp site to an unoccupied area beneath some scraggly bushes where they would be able to speak relatively private. Tarthiak's expression changed to one of concern and she quickly followed behind indicating to the others that they were not to follow. Confused, fearful and curious eyes watched her walk toward Gart. No one followed but neither did they leave instead they remained where they were watching the two converse.



What is it Gart? Tarthiak asked in a hushed tone.

The Harvesters have changed their hunt. Gart responded. They have another type of bug with them now and it is my belief it can sense us in ways they never have been able to before. Tarthiak eyes widen with shock and she shook her head in confusion.

What do you mean? Sense us? I don't understand?

It knows how to locate us somehow. Not just our tracks and other signs we leave. It is not fooled by our fake trails and turns the harvesting party back toward our real one almost immediately. Why do you think it took me so long to return? It took me days to finally get them off of your true path. I'm not even sure why I was able to. Anyhow, we must call a meeting of the tribes. We have to warn others. We have to come up with a plan or we will all become meat for their breeding pens. Gart's words, while softly spoken, felt like hammer blows on Tharthiak's heart. Oh dear god, she breathed almost moaned. The tribe...? No, we must keep this quiet until we can speak to the other tribes. We cannot start a panic until we have some clearer idea of what we are dealing with. Tarthiak's expression had changed from confusion and fear to one of determined calm. She was the leader of the tribe due to her ability to remain calm during crisis and quick thinking.