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Eden, Dawn Page 26


  Chapter 18

  I was beyond exhausted when I finally hauled myself up my tree to end a long day. Especially after failing to sleep a wink the night before. Even my stimulating dawn-hope experience could not keep my groggy, heavy-lidded eyes open. I must have crashed the minute I strapped up and lay my head back against the thick trunk of the tree.

  Waking with a start, hearing voices already on the ground below me, I knew I had just pulled my first all-nighter. I had slept through the entire dark hours, something very few ever did—and something I wasn’t sure was even possible for me. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. Rested. Alive and well.

  Come on world … give me your best shot!

  And then I noticed it. Besides the creak of tall trees and the gentle sway of foliage caused by a brisk breeze, the jungle sounds were quieter by this time of the morning, and the Dawn Bugs had already signed off their daybreak performance.

  Like miniature dinosaurs from yesteryear, the Dawn Bugs arrived as a harbinger of spring. Legs extended, the adult version was as large as both my hands out-stretched, and was on the ugly range of the bug world; a spectrum that had grotesque on one end and utterly hideous on the other. Making a chilling high-pitched sound; in concert, they turned the first light of day into a harrowing cacophony of noise. Victor had always said that while they sounded similar to cicadas, they looked like the evil, Frankenstein version of Earth’s lobster. Then again, I didn’t know what a cicada or a lobster was. Apparently, like a cicada, these foul bugs generated their ear-piercing noise from tymbals on the side of their abdomen. Victor turned everything into a biology lesson.

  I miss him.

  The first time I heard them in full voice, I nearly peed my pants. Now, they’re merely a herald announcing the start of my favourite season. After a day or two, I hardly notice them. White noise. Most importantly, they’re an essential part of the Hog’s diet—gorging on their nymphs during autumn and winter, feasting on their adult form during spring and summer. Using their sharp incisors to cleave open the bug’s hard exoskeleton, the Hog then slurped up the gooey, black innards. Not a pretty sight, believe me.

  Two years ago, after an unusually long and bitter winter, the Hog population seemed to take a drastic hit. With fewer Hogs available, and multiple hordes of Dawn Bugs invading when spring eventually showed up, pinched with hunger, we were forced to try adding them to our meagre diet. Needless to say, it didn’t turn out well. Vile to the taste, we all got sick. I puked for days.

  While catching a Dawn Bug wasn’t difficult, it was one of Eden’s most obnoxious experiences. Besides the blood their spiked pincers could draw, the biggest nuisance was the black faecal-matter that the repulsive bugs sprayed from their rear ends. If you got the stuff on you, you’d reek for days; a stench worse than Hog paste. And no, there were no benefits to Dawn Bug excrement. It didn’t keep the Raptor away—but your friends were sure to give you a wide berth.

  It was during that spring that Satoru and Brucie devised one of their ‘underground’ pastimes: Bug Wars. Partly because we were inundated with the monstrous critters, and partly in retribution for making them sick, Satoru and Brucie snuck out of camp one afternoon, and after creating what they called an ‘Arena of Fire,’ they goaded Dawn Bugs into brutal battles to the death. And apparently, the triumphant bug left standing by the end was rewarded. By being pulled apart, limb by limb, and tortured with fire.

  Knowing Victor wouldn’t approve, I kept away, as did Judd, Gellica, Nadalie and Jordin. Ruzzell, Shawz and Cartyr were drawn like Raptors to a fresh kill. And I guess, it was during those hours, as they watched bug tear bug apart—provoked and stoked by the fervent heat of the fire—that Ruzzell’s little gang formed.

  Now, as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, the unusual quiet had a noise all of its own. And into the humming silence tiptoed the soft chitter-chatter of a wild jungle enjoying a brief rapture of serenity.