Mykal's Return to Towbar's World

by Dave Hazel

  “Here they come,” Sergeant Gorman groaned.

  Mykal looked back to see two of the giant man eating crabs side stepping down the beach toward them. “I can’t friggin believe this,” Mykal barely mumbled.

  “Let’s go, let’s go,” Jake ordered while slowly pulling his skinny body off the ground.

  “They can kiss my big black American ass,” Gorman snarled while loading a 40mm round into the M-203 tube. He aimed and fired the High Explosive round at the advancing threat. After the slight ‘thubp’ sound, he quickly reloaded the grenade launcher and by the time he was ready to aim the explosion rang out.

  “Bull’s eye,” Mykal said and they all laughed when they witnessed the blast hit the first giant crab. “Damn,” he moaned. “That thing didn’t even flinch. It didn’t even notice it got hit.”

  “Let’s get outta here,” Jake shouted and they started to run again. “We gotta get away from the water.”

  Mykal was relieved Jake changed direction for them to follow. Mykal saw farther down the beach several more of the giant crabs stepped out of the water in search of food. They would have run into them. Jake led them to open flatland away from the forest and away from the giant crab infested waters.

  “They’re following us,” Sergeant Thompson, a Green Beret in the rear yelled out.

  They all kept running and two of the giant crabs followed them across the grassy plain. “I can’t run no more,” Gorman gasped and moaned knowing what his fate would be.

  “Don’t give up,” Mykal yelled at him. Mykal knew he was close to joining Gorman. He was drowning in exhaustion and couldn’t catch his breath. “Keep running,” Mykal ordered. He glanced over his shoulder to see the humungous freaks gaining on them. Mykal wanted to shout obscenities due to his legs feeling rubbery, but couldn’t muster the strength. “Don’t give up,” he screeched when he saw Gorman stop and drop to his knees.

  “I can’t go on,” Gorman gasped. He started to turn his weapon to face the hunter, but instead he just collapsed.

  Suddenly, the giant crab appeared out of nowhere, pounced on Gorman and began pulling him apart to feed on him.

  “There’s a bridge.” Corporal Horton pointed. Horton was one of the two that came from the trees after the crabs attacked.

  Moments later they all stopped at the bridge that crossed a chasm about seventy-five feet wide. Below the bridge flowed a strange liquid. It was a bright yellow color that had a visible glow about it. Mykal felt anxious the river flowed with some strange chemical, but he clearly saw large dark fish swimming in the glowing lemon color water. The bright yellow was clear enough that he could see the bottom of the riverbed. He could tell the fish were longer than his body.

  “This sure as hell don’t look safe,” Jake said. They looked at the old wooden crossing and all hesitated stepping on the decrepit old planks. He doubled over trying to catch his breath.

  “Yeah, but neither does that,” Mykal pointed to the crabs that continued their pursuit.

  The giant crabs still pursued them but their pace slowed. The bridge before them looked like an old rickety death trap. Two lengths of rope served as the hand/guard rails. Each plank looked old, rotting and weak. The wood didn’t look like it would support their weight. The width was about two feet and it looked like it had been hastily put together decades before.

  Mykal couldn’t believe the decision they were faced with. This unsafe catwalk reminded him of his childhood and all the cartoons he had watched on television. This bridge would be the bridge that always fell apart under cartoon characters.

  “Damn it, we gotta do something,” Jake said as the hunters neared. The loud clacking of their pinchers sounded like drums.

  “We gotta do it,” Mykal said more to convince himself than the others. He knew if they continued running in the plains they would probably all end up like Gorman, dropping from exhaustion and becoming a meal.

  “Damn it,” Jake groaned after looking at the options.

  Mykal looked at the distance to the other side and looked at the surroundings. He believed they would have to swim. This bridge, if it could be called a bridge, couldn’t hold them. Suddenly the blowing wind swallowed his thoughts.

  ‘How far can we get before it gives way? If we swim are those large fish gonna attack?’ The walls of the chasm reminded him of the Pass since the rock walls were almost straight up and down. It would be almost impossible to climb out, thus it would be a long swim up or down river.

  “Are you okay?” One of the voices asked but it sounded so far away. “Myk, are you okay?”

  “This might work,” he mumbled. Mykal was terrified beyond description. His greatest fear as a child was being in water that he couldn’t see what else was in the water. Now that he could clearly see what was in the water made it worse. “One at a time,” he suggested and saw how close the immense crustaceans were getting. “I’ll check it out,” he offered and quickly stepped out. The flimsy bridge started to wobble and sway.

  “Will it hold us?” Jake asked.

  “No, it’ll cave if we all go. One at a time,” he shouted. “If it gives way and we go into the water, try to get to that one little piece of land there,” he said and pointed to a small piece of ground at the water’s edge. “It leads to a trail.”

  “I see it,” someone shouted.

  “Too late, they’re here,’ Jake yelled and they all rushed out on the worthless planks together behind Mykal.

  Mykal glanced back from half way across. He saw their terrified expressions as they all ran toward him to avoid the giant monsters nearing the bridge. Mykal tried to run but his foot went through the next plank and just as quickly as the others joined him on the bridged the weak support under his feet gave way. So many fearful thoughts and emotions went through his mind while plummeting downward. ‘Would the bright yellow river be cold? If it’s a chemical would we be burned alive? Will I sink to the bottom and not be able to rise? Are my eyes gonna burn?’ Mykal couldn’t believe all the thoughts that raced through his mind while he took forever to drop.

  Using his arms in a circular motion in an attempt to keep his balance forced him to drop his rifle. The yellow glow of the river rose faster than he wanted. He just barely took a breath before his feet punched into the lemon liquid, making a little splash. He heard the others yelling as they dropped into the water after him. The liquid felt very warm and he sunk like a rock. Their cries disappeared when his head went under the bright yellow water.

  His downward descent ceased and he still didn’t hit bottom. Pushing hard with his hands and kicking with his feet through the water he climbed back to the surface. His heart pumped faster than ever, but he forced himself to remain calm so as not to draw attention to him. His eyes burned when the glowing water made contact, but after his eyes adjusted, the burning stopped. It felt just like chlorine in a swimming pool. He saw the large black fish swimming around them rapidly. They reminded him of sharks in a feeding frenzy. Though the frenzied swimming circled around him, he couldn’t help but notice it smelled like several matches had just been struck near him. The odor was strong and constant.

  His only concern was to get away from the black underwater beasts. Calmly, he swam his way toward the landing he spotted from above. He heard others splashing about, yelling and screaming. It sounded like they were being attacked. ‘Please no, don’t attack,’ he thought in sheer terror. He felt completely vulnerable. With each stroke of his arms he moved closer and feared one of those fish would grab him and pull him back under. ‘Why is this happening? Ski said God had a plan for my life.’ His thoughts shouted trying to block the screams of the others. ‘Diaz said God would get us outta here.’

  Several large black forms darted through the water around him with the movements of large snakes. It startled him to take water in his mouth. He feared he would drown from sheer terror. ‘Can’t panic, can’t panic,’ he tried to calm himself despite the horrifying screams he heard with the splashing going on behind him.

&nbs
p; “Myk, help me,” Jake shrieked.

  Jake’s voice carried a terror and panic that made Mykal wince. “I can’t,” Mykal mumbled as his mouth went just under the surface of the water.

  “Myk, please, these things--” Jake’s words stopped when he was pulled under water.

  Mykal continued his steady smooth pace through the bright yellow water. He swam past wooden planks floating from the bridge that collapsed. He suddenly realized there was no more noise. There were no more screams, no more splashing. Everyone’s dead! He didn’t have to look back. He knew they were all gone.

  The large black shapes were swimming wildly around him. He looked back to see how many there were and he saw areas that were dark red in the yellowish glow of the water. One of the crimson-yellow spots was where Jake died. Mykal knew he would be next. He decided he wasn’t going to die without a fight and pulled his ice pick dagger from his web belt.

  He raced to the land expecting at any moment the water monsters would take him under and make him join the others. One of the big black fish swam past his face and rose up out of the water revealing its long head that reminded him of a primitive alligator gar, bearing rows of three inch teeth. One of the creature’s black eyes seemed to stare at him as it swam past him. It felt like a giant eye focused on Mykal’s distress. He desperately wanted to cry out. He didn’t want to drown or be eaten like the others.

  The black alligator gar like creatures continued to swim circles around him. His heart raced with excited joy as his hand reached land. There was no land under him. He would have to pull himself up onto the ground as if it was the deep end of a pool.

  His chest thumped harder and harder while he fought to pull his exhausted body from the glowing river. With half his body on the land, he had to stop to catch his breath. He didn’t have the strength to pull himself out completely. He took a deep breath in preparation of pulling the rest of his body out of the water but like a nightmare that continued to get worse he felt a ripping burning fire in his right thigh.

  Mykal yelled out as one of the large black fish chomped onto his thigh. The pain was nightmarishly unbearable. If he had it in him he would have given a high pitched scream to express his pain. He felt the gar-like beast fighting to pull him back under the yellow water to finish him off. The head twisted, wildly ripping the razor sharp teeth deeper into his flesh and muscle. He felt points of the teeth digging down to bone. Why couldn’t the thing understand what he’d been through and just let him go? It was only concerned for the next meal.

  There was nothing to hold on to. He would be easy prey to drag back into the yellow glowing river. Mykal thrashed wildly with the dagger and stuck the fish in the face and head multiple times. He fought for survival, the creature fought for a meal. Mykal won when he struck the beast in one of its eyes, its giant ‘evil eye’. The pressure on his leg stopped and without thinking he quickly rolled his legs over the side to get out of the water. He rolled a couple of times to ensure he was not near the edge for fear of being pulled back in. His terror filled mind imagined the beast crawling out of the water to keep him from escaping. His heart raced madly while he rolled to safety.

  He lay on his back exhausted gasping for air. The warmth of the sun on his face was comforting, but it seemed hard to open his eyes. He felt weak and he knew blood drained fast from the ghastly wound in his thigh. The pain throbbed through his lower limb. He realized he needed serious medical attention quickly. He lifted his head up enough to look at his leg. His thigh shredded open and it was large enough to place a softball in the bleeding open wound. ‘Will I get a funky infection cuz of the water?’

  He sat up and looked for any signs of the others. A ripped and bloody shirt floated in the water. It struck him odd how isolated he was. It felt so quiet. He felt for his holster, but his .357 magnum was gone. He dropped his rifle in the water and his revolver must have fallen out of the holster. His only weapon, an ice pick like dagger. He couldn’t believe his eyes. One long piece of a plank floating twenty feet from the water’s edge had an M-16 laying on it. He needed that weapon.

  “No. No friggin way,” he shouted. He wanted to cry out in frustration. “I’m not going near the water, let alone into the water to retrieve that rifle. Maybe a miracle will happen and it will float over here,” he whispered and looked heavenward.

  ‘How could everything have gone so wrong so fast? All my friends are dead and I’m going to die all alone,’ he pouted.

  He tried to rise, but quickly dropped back to the ground. “Injury too severe,” he whispered to himself and felt himself weakening. “Blood loss too fast. Pain too, too much,” he moaned and lay back on his back. He rested his forearm over his eyes to block the sun. Despite the horrible pain, the sun felt nice on his face.

  He looked over to the trail that would get him away from the water, but to where. Examining his thigh he realized a chunk of flesh and muscle larger than his fist had been taken out. He saw deep inside his thigh. The white he saw had to be bone and it gave him the urge to vomit. He knew he couldn’t walk.

  “I’m dead,” he moaned and rolled over and put his face in the dirt to keep the sun from his eyes. He felt sorry for himself. He would never get to see his boys grow up and become men. “I’m friggin dead,” he sulked. Getting weaker, he wanted to fall asleep. Mykal knew he would probably never wake up. “Just let it be over,” he moaned quietly.

  His strength drained from his being while he bled out. His body temperature dropped and he became very cold. “I don’t wanna die alone,” he moaned and began to shiver uncontrollably. “I don’t wanna die alone,” he mumbled sadly.

  “You are not alone,” he heard a voice reply. Or maybe he imagined it? “We are your friends.” A soft soothing voice reassured him.

  Mykal struggled desperately to roll over. He barely opened his eyes, and saw forms blocking the sun. He wanted to yell excitedly that ‘shadows blocked the rays of the sun!’ People were really standing around him. He wanted to cry out joyfully, but the pain in his right thigh overwhelmed him. ‘Am I saved?’ he wondered. Thankfulness and gratitude overwhelmed him that he was rescued. Everything began to trail off into blackness. “Who are--” he gasped at a sudden surge of pain that drilled through his leg. “Who are you…” His voice trailed off weakly.

  CHAPTER TWELVE 12/12/1983

  1. Monday, December 12th 1983

  0632 hours, Unknown location, Other side of Towbar’s world

  “I don’t wanna die alone,” Mykal moaned sadly.

  “You’re not alone, and you’re not dying,” he heard a distant voice try to comfort him. “Wake up,” the voice said while gently shaking him.

  “They’re all gone,” Mykal mumbled. He feared the sense of extreme pain he would awaken to.

  “Who’s gone? Myk, wake up,” Boris chuckled while continuing to shake him. “You’re having a bad dream. Wake up.”

  Mykal bolted upright. “I’m dreaming? I’m alright? But my leg, where I got bit,” he groaned at the pain he still felt. Mykal felt for the wound in his thigh where he was sure the big black fish had taken a chunk of his flesh. During his sleep his leg had been pressed against a pointed rock resulting in the pain to his thigh. “Boris, you’re alive!” Mykal announced with such excitement that those gathered started to laugh.

  “I sure the hell hope so,” Boris said and joined those who were laughing. “That musta been one hellova dream.”

  “Oh man, you can’t even imagine,” Mykal sighed and shook his head in disbelief. “Man, I swear it seemed so real. But everyone’s alright? We didn’t get attacked?” He asked and looked all around the camp. Everyone looked alive and well.

  “Yeah, it was only a bad dream,” Boris laughed.

  “Hot damn,” Mykal forced a labored laugh. “That was the worst friggin dream I ever had. I’m so happy to see you right now I could kiss your ugly mug.”

  “Yeah, don’t do that,” Boris continued to laugh and stepped back. “Diaz wanted me to get you up so we could head out.” />
  After a brief breakfast they started on their journey. They traveled into unknown territory to an unknown destination, hoping, and some prayed, they would find someone who would be able to help them get back to the Pass. If they couldn’t return to the Pass they would settle on Plan B. Plan B was the plan Boris suggested of finding Zizmon-Tarl to assassinate him.

  Hours later, their silent hike halted when one of the point men signaled a problem. Captain Diaz sent for Mykal, Finley and Kim to brief them on the find.

  “Hey Mykal,” Corporal Howard whispered. “The Captain needs you up front. You’re not gonna believe this when you see it. Come with me, please,” he said and turned without explaining what had been found. Howard’s ‘Howdy Doody’ nick-name followed him all his life. He had always had red hair and a freckled face. His close friends were allowed to call him Howdy Doody or ‘Red’, but those who didn’t know him well wouldn’t dare call him that or they would think twice after looking at his 21 and a half inch biceps.

  Jake and Boris followed Mykal who followed the muscular red head. All the other men dropped to one knee and all faced out so all directions could be observed. Always anticipate an attack. The men Mykal hurried past didn’t know the reason for the delay, but all were ready for any trouble. Being professional military men they would adapt to, and overcome, any situation.

  “You gotta be kiddin’ me,” Mykal gasped in a hushed tone as an old horror had suddenly been re-kindled at the sight before him. His eyes followed a thin silken rope that connected to several trees. He watched the forward scout point to many such connecting sleek ropes to several trees.

  Mykal knew right away it to be the web of a giant spider. His encounter with a giant snow spider just five months prior almost resulted in his death inside the mountains of the Pass. The last encounter with a giant spider was the most frightful experience of his life.

  “What the hell is that?” Boris whispered and pointed to a bundle hanging from a nearby tree. It looked like a large cocoon with what appeared to be deer legs protruding from within.