Mykal's Return to Towbar's World

by Dave Hazel

  ‘Damn it! Where the hell is everyone?’ His thoughts yelled.

  Breaking twigs to the front. ‘Oh damn,’ his mind gasped. He saw several muscular men creeping into their camp. They appeared to be more like Sosos than the meticulously dressed soldiers they saw previously. These ragged warriors sneaking into the camp were armed with swords and spears. ‘Sosos don’t attack at night,’ he reminded himself. They looked dirty and wild as any Soso he ever laid eyes on. ‘William’s ruckus brought this,’ he seethed with accusing rage.

  Mykal’s breathing increased rapidly. The eerie silence made him feel so alone and isolated which in turn made it difficult to catch his breath. He wanted to know where his support stood, but didn’t want to give himself away. The savages kept slithering into their campsite, obviously to kill everyone in their sleep. ‘Were all the guards killed with arrows? Was anyone else awake? Am I the only alarm?’ He knew he had to warn everyone, but once he sounded the warning he would be the next target.

  Terror gripped Mykal when he saw one intruder raise his sword over the sleeping man in front of him. ‘I’m responsible for all these men,’ his thoughts shouted. Both hands of the intruder wrapped around the hilt of the gleaming sword. The ‘bad guy’ looked ready to plunge the blade down into the sleeping form to pin the man to the ground. Despite the danger of divulging his position, Mykal couldn’t allow the fellow member of Towbar One to be killed in his sleep. He had to warn the defenseless man to give him at least a fighting chance, but he would give himself away. The argument went back and forth in his mind.

  Mykal feared standing alone on an island in the dark, but he clearly saw the sadistic snarl of the interloper who prepared to take a life of the snoozing man. The bad guy’s eyes were wide with evil delight. His malevolent grin exposed his clenched teeth, wreathed with a scraggly beard. Though it might cost him his life Mykal knew he had to act.

  He squeezed two shots from the revolver and yelled at the top of his lungs. “Attack! Attack!” The two explosions drowned his words. He watched the first round slam into the blade of the sword that gleamed in the moon light. The force of the lead slammed the metal blade back into the attacker’s face, but the round ricocheted off the blade and into the darkness. The second shot hit the attacker in the throat.

  Mykal holstered his pistol and raised his rifle all before the intruder hit the ground. Staying on one knee he fired off shots at any movement from the trees before him. “Get up, we’re under attack,” he bellowed while continuing to shoot his M-16. “Get up! Move, move, move,” Mykal shouted. A couple of shadowy forms dropped out of sight into the eerie twilight.

  Almost immediately their little peaceful outpost became a chaos of movement and erupted with gunfire. Others must have been awake. He heard M-60 machine guns ripping into the darkness as well as many of the rifles. He heard the distinctive roar of Boris’s .44 magnum. The blasts of the 40mm High Explosive rounds were the loudest. Mykal heard the weapons fire, the sounds of tree limbs and branches breaking but he couldn’t hear the sounds of men yelling, war cries or those suffering. The human response seemed silent though noise raged.

  Something inside warned Mykal to hide. He quickly ducked behind a tree to reload his rifle. Just as he moved, the very spot he stood against suddenly became stitched with too many arrows to count. The sound came across like a sudden drum roll. It terrified him to know he was the target and ‘they’ wanted him dead.

  Once reloaded, Mykal peeked around the tree to see where the aggressors were. An arrow whizzed by his face so close that the trailing feathers just barely touched the tip of his nose. It felt like an insect landed on his nose and flew off. Amid the heat of battle, an insect landing on his nose seemed to be a strange image or thought to enter his mind.

  Suddenly screams and cries for help filled the night air. The voices he couldn’t hear just moments before were now loud and busy. Mykal couldn’t see it but it sounded like their camp was being overrun. Repeatedly he heard panicky voices crying out that there were far too many of the mysterious enemy. Mykal waited for the onslaught on his position but only stragglers advanced toward him. He quickly and easily dispatched his threats, but couldn’t see where his men struggled. He desperately wanted to help them, but seemed blind to their turmoil. He felt solely responsible for the suffering these brave men endured. ‘It’s my fault they’re here,’ he thought and mentally wrung his hands at what he felt was his impotence to help them.

  The gunfire slowed, the cries for help thinned and died down. Mykal feared he was on an island in the darkness. He wanted to help others just so he wouldn’t be alone. He glanced in all directions, but it seemed all the commotion of battle took place somewhere behind him. ‘Oh no, did I get separated from them?’ He wasn’t sure if men were to his left, his right, in front or just behind him. Confused, panic started to get control of his thinking. The enemy seemed to have a great plan and strategy in place whereas Mykal didn’t even know his position inside his group. He wanted to hide until daylight so he could see what was really happening.

  His biggest fear was being separated from his men and surrounded by the overwhelming force that seemed to monopolize the darkness. He took a step to the side of his tree and instantly a couple of arrows pounded into the tree near his head. Pieces of bark and slivers of wood flew into his face. The enemy waited for him to expose himself so they could finish him. “Damn it, you friggin cowards,” he yelled, but the enemy remained hidden.

  “I want that 60 here, no over here,” Diaz yelled. His voice sounded strong, calm and in command. “Grab the other 60 and put it over there.”

  “Nelson is dead,” a voice yelled referring to the ranking Green Beret NCO, Staff Sergeant Nelson.

  “Where is that other M-60?” Diaz demanded.

  “He’s dead,” a voice replied.

  Lieutenant Finley jumped in before Diaz replied. “Then you grab his weapon and get the hell over here. I want some 203s over here. Spread out and--” Finley’s words cut short with a yelp and a groan. Finley had been struck. He hit the ground and stopped moaning.

  “Finley?” Mykal yelled out. “Is he alright?”

  “Oh no,” Diaz shouted back to Mykal. “He’s dead. They killed--” Diaz words were stopped with a gurgling choking sound. An arrow must have struck him in the throat.

  “Diaz? Damn it, Diaz, are you okay?” Mykal yelled out.

  “He’s dead Myk,” another voice cried out. “They’re all over the place. Help me, I’m hurt bad,” the voice moaned.

  “Damn it, I can’t see it,” Mykal yelled his frustration. He really liked Finley and Diaz though he had tried hard to deny his emotions close attachment to any of the men except for Jake and Boris.

  Mykal knew he couldn’t help them. Every time he tried to leave the cover and protection of the tree, ‘they’ tried to rip him apart with arrows.

  At the sound of movement on the ground behind him, Mykal turned and almost started shooting. Boris crawled behind him and he was relieved he didn’t open fire. Multiple war cries were shouted and hundreds of barbarians rushed out of the trees swinging weapons.

  Mykal didn’t know how many of his men remained or if his men could fight off such a large force in the forest under the cover of darkness. His two main leaders were gone. “Stop them,” Mykal yelled as loud as he could and began squeezing off rounds from around the tree while cautiously remaining hidden behind the trunk.

  Boris joined him and they fired on everything that moved their way. Everything they shot at seemed to be just blurs of movement in the darkened shadowy area. Mykal felt they were dropping the enemy as fast as they could shoot, but the fallen members of the attacking force were quickly replaced by many more than were there before.

  Suddenly, as if on cue, all of the savages turned and retreated back to the trees and darkness. “I think they’re trying to trap us Myk,” Boris whispered. “While we’re focused here, I think they’re gonna surround us and trap us in this little area.”

  “Myk, whatta
we gonna do?” Jake called out from behind him.

  Mykal agreed with Boris’s assessment. “We’re gonna get the hell outta here,” he yelled back to Jake. “I want you to tell everyone to grab what they can. We’re gonna make a break for it before they hit us with another attack.”

  “When, and where to?” A voice near Jake asked.

  “To our rear, and on my mark,” Mykal yelled.

  “Where are we gonna go?” Boris whispered.

  “Outta here,” Mykal snapped at Boris. “Let’s go,” Mykal yelled. He and Boris turned and ran past some of the men hiding behind trees. Some of the men were on the ground dead, some were cowering in fear. “Let’s go, let’s go. We gotta move,” he whispered while he ran past them.

  “Don’t stay there,” Boris whispered while he followed behind Mykal. “Get on your feet before they come back. Damn it,” he blurted when he tripped. He stumbled but grabbed hold of a tree to keep from falling to the ground.

  “You okay buddy?” Mykal turned to help his friend.

  Boris chuckled at his clumsiness. He looked up with a frightened and embarrassed smile. Before he could answer that he was fine his head snapped forward and Mykal watched an arrowhead push out the front of Boris’s features, knocking his glasses free. Boris had been struck in the back of the head and the arrow almost passed all the way through his head. Mykal watched the shocked, lifeless, gaze of Boris, fall face first to the ground.

  He wanted to rescue Boris. He wanted to carry his friend away. Mykal knew he would die if he tried either. He heard the screams of pain and calls for help as more men were struck by arrows. He hoped Boris wasn’t alive in the throes of death because he had to leave him behind. He would have to mourn the loss of his friend later. His heart ached because he feared his friend might still be alive, suffering in the dark all alone. He wanted to cry for his friend but the tears wouldn’t flow. His panic and distress soared too high to shed a tear. He didn’t want to leave Boris, his close friend, to die alone, because Mykal didn’t want to die alone. ‘Dying alone seems so sad and scary,’ he thought while he fled for his life.

  Mykal ran hard and fast with his rifle pointed in front to lead the way. If anything or anyone jumped out in his way he would waste it or them. He ran blind and no longer felt confident anyone followed behind him. He couldn’t hear sounds, only the thumping of his heart and the gasping of his breaths. How could such primitive savages destroy such a well-armed, well trained force? ‘Gotta get away, gotta get away,’ his mind screamed and his breathing gasped out of control. He knew if he couldn’t control his breathing he wouldn’t be able to run very long.

  He saw other men running in the darkness ahead of him. Part of him wanted to yell for help because he couldn’t catch his breath to run properly. He feared being left behind. He couldn’t get his breathing right. Panic grew. He knew he wouldn’t be able to run far with his breaths deep and wild. Mykal gasped and panic loomed heavy. He couldn’t get his damn breathing under control. He wanted to yell for the men not to bunch up for fear of being led into a trap. He wanted someone to help pull him along. So many thoughts flooded his brain. His main focus was to keep running, to keep moving away. ‘Well, if we’re running into a trap, at least we’ll all die together. I don’t wanna die alone like Boris. Poor, poor Boris. What the hell am I thinking?’ He thought and realized he was gasping desperately to get air into his lungs.

  Behind him he heard the distant sounds of the enemy attacking their little camp. The screams and cries for help led him to believe the few who stayed behind were being slaughtered. ‘Oh damn. What a mess,’ he moaned in thought. ‘I’m a lousy friggin leader.’

  Sunlight started to sneak in through the trees. He saw his men a little better. He felt like he had been running for hours, but it didn’t appear that he’d gone anywhere. ‘Where the hell are we?’ He wondered, but fear of giving away his position kept him from calling out to his men. It didn’t occur to him that galloping through the forest like a wild animal was just as noisy.

  Out before him Mykal saw only eight men. They moved so fast that he couldn’t tell who they were. He knew Boris to be gone. He knew Diaz and Finley were killed and many others were behind him. He didn’t think those behind him would make it. ‘How could I do this to them?’ He moaned. ‘It’s all my fault.’ He didn’t know what happened to Lieutenant Kim or William. Thankfully he saw Jake’s long skinny frame running in front of him.

  He didn’t need to look behind to know the enemy’s pursuit came hard and fast. The sound of hundreds rampaging through the forest made it clear the chase didn’t cease. He needed to stop and catch his breath. Panic set in for the fear of not being able to keep up with his men. His anxiety increased for not being able to outrun those chasing him. ‘Why isn’t anyone shooting? I need help,’ he cried out in his mind. ‘Stop!’ He shouted to himself in his head. ‘If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die with dignity,’ he rebuked himself. ‘I’m not gonna go out like a little sissy.’

  Suddenly he stepped out of the trees and onto grass land that neared a beach. The trees were behind him and he moved closer to sand and water. The watery scent brought back memories of his childhood. In the wide open he feared being shot in the back with arrows. Daylight seemed to have come fast. The sky was an orangey blue.

  When he made it to the sand his running slowed and became more labored. Out in front of his men a large body of water hemmed them in. They were trapped by the water and clearly visible to those pursuing. With every step Mykal felt like he sank deeper and deeper. He seemed to be fighting harder and harder to put each foot forward. His chest seemed to burn with each desperate breath he sucked in.

  “Where do we go?” Jake yelled and gasped for air.

  Some of the men dropped to their knees to splash the cool water on their faces. The scene before Mykal was like a beautiful painting. He could imagine relaxing on the beach with Pam and the boys and take his sons into the water for a little swim. Suddenly fear pushed the playful scene and watery scent away. He found it odd such thoughts entered his mind in such a desperate situation. Something wasn’t right. He felt it!

  “Look out!” Jake screeched the warning to the men.

  Mykal dropped flat and turned to the trees with his rifle expecting Jake’s warning to be for him, but none of the enemy pursued him.

  “Get away from the water,” Jake yelled and started to cry.

  Mykal turned to the water to see a sight he’d never thought possible. Yet he witnessed it with his own eyes. Two giant crabs were out of the water on the beach. The two spiny monsters stood close to thirty feet tall. One of the giant crustaceans had two men squeezed together in one of its huge pinchers. Marine Staff Sergeant Fuller seemed to be unconscious, while fellow Marine Lance Corporal Dowd screeched trying to pry the vice like grip from his midsection. The crushing pressure forced blood to spew from Dowd’s mouth.

  The second colossal crab had Gunnery Sergeant Ratner by his thigh. Hanging upside down, Ratner reached for the pain in his broken femur. His body dangled like a child’s toy. The other pincher had crushed the head of an Army Ranger when it snatched him up. The weight of the Ranger’s body pulled free from his crushed head. The headless, limp, carcass dropped to the beach where the sand absorbed the blood gushing from his neck as if the sand sucked the red liquids like a child with a Slurpee.

  Mykal knew he couldn’t fight the enormous crabs, but he had to help. Mykal watched three more immense horrors of nightmare crabs walk out of the water toward the scene on the beach. Obviously it was time for feeding. One of the new crabs only had one pincher but it grabbed the dangling Ratner and broke his body in half. Ratner’s screams and yells ceased in an instant when his body became the center of the meal tug-o-war.

  Backing away Mykal saw the second and third new crabs fighting over the hapless Marine caught by both creatures’ claws. One of the two involved in the giant tug-o-war had another soldier in its other pincher. The man’s screams were like nothing Mykal ever heard before. The
man’s shoulder and a small part of his chest had been bitten off. The giant crab gnawed on the open wound.

  “Noooo,” Jake yelled and took aim.

  Mykal wanted to yell that it would be useless to shoot at the hard shell of the giant crustaceans.

  Jake squeezed off two shots, hitting the man in the head. Jake killed him before he suffered much more. He couldn’t possibly survive. The man’s head jerked violently, Jake silenced the soldier’s screams.

  Mykal wished he would have thought as quickly as Jake did to end the man’s suffering. One of the crabs, with a live squirming man in its crushing grip turned and scuttled back into the water taking the man below, never to breathe air again. Mykal wanted to drop and give up, he lost everyone.

  “Come on Myk,” Jake yelled while squeezing off more shots. “Let’s get outta here.”

  ‘I’m not alone,’ he realized with joy and sadness mixed. The idea of being alone seemed unbearable.

  Two more Marines ran from out of the forest onto the beach and looked just as terrified as Mykal felt. “Run!” Mykal yelled to them while he continued moving backward to keep his eyes on the monsters that were devouring his people.

  Mykal turned and ran with Jake and three others. They ran down the beach but it seemed like they were going in slow motion running on the sand though they ran harder than they ever ran in their lives. To Mykal it all happened so fast that he couldn’t think straight.

  After only minutes, which felt like hours, the survivors all dropped to the cold beach breathing desperately to get air in their lungs. They all watched behind them. None of the enemy followed from the trees. Three of the killer crabs were still fighting over the corpses.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jake asked as he stared up into the sky. He sounded on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

  Mykal watched his friend lying on the cool damp sand and he wanted to join him to lie down and go to sleep. No one answered Jake’s question. There was no answer to give.