Dissension

by R. J. Wolf

  The ground was uneven and difficult to navigate in even the best situations. Anthony hopped awkwardly on one leg his knee swollen and twisted, gripping Mikey and Steve’s shoulders.

  “How’d they find us?” Mit whispered.

  “No clue.” Anthony grunted.

  They moved deeper and deeper through the clustered backwoods heading into the unknown. The sounds of panic and death disappeared and the music of the forest came to life. Shrills and shrieks rung out in the dark like the ballad of some alien world. The leaves rustled as the cool wind blew through them.

  The flashlight beamed ahead shinning on tree trunk after tree trunk. The lumbering shapes looked like giants in the dark. As they pushed their way further, Mit stopped the light on a figure doubled over in a clearing.

  “Sticks!” Mikey shouted.

  He helped Anthony to the ground and then charged at Sticks. “What gives bro? Like it or not we’re stuck together. You can’t just run off when you wet your diaper.” Mikey yelled and shook his finger.

  Sticks slapped his hand down and lunged forward. He tackled Mikey and they both fell to the ground in a clump.

  “It’s your fault Maxey’s gone, your fault we’re here.” Sticks screamed out as he swung recklessly at Mikey.

  “Get off him!” Anthony yelled trying to scramble to his feet. His knee gave out and he fell back and collapsed to the ground. “If it’s anyone’s fault it’s mine.”

  Sticks stopped punching and glared at Anthony. He stood up and slowly started moving towards Anthony.

  “Yeah! You know what, it is your fault.” He started.

  A branch crackled behind him followed by a low grumbling in the trees. Anthony scrambled to turn a flashlight on and shined it forward. Sticks quickly turned towards the noise and a massive black bear erupted from the brush. It jumped at Sticks and took him to the ground.

  The bear was easily the size of a small horse; its thick fur was knotted and clumped together. Even in the dark its razor sharp claws could be seen.

  It pressed hard against Sticks, laying all its weight on him. A blob of drool dripped from its wrinkled black lips landing on his face. The bear’s hot breath blew against his skin as it let out a bone chilling growl. It reared up showing its five inch canines then buried them deep into Sticks’ arm.

  Sticks screamed flailing his legs wildly, punching the bear with his free arm. Mikey jumped to his feet and grabbed a gnarled tree branch from the ground. He brought it crashing down on the bears head and it broke into splinters. The bear hardly flinched and continued to shake Sticks’ arms violently in its mouth.

  Mit and Steve joined in and started kicking the bear and screaming obscenities. It dropped his arm and snapped around, its eyes now fixed on the two of them. Baring its teeth, it rocked back onto its rear legs and growled. It had to be seven feet tall and as wide as a door frame.

  Its mangled fur was black as night, only its eyes shimmered in the dark reflecting the glow from Anthony’s flashlight. It roared loudly, its breath turning to mist in the cool air of the early morning. It stood over Sticks snarling and growling claiming him as its prize.

  It swatted at the air and roared then turned back to Sticks. Before he knew it the bear sunk its teeth back into his arm.

  “Arh! Get this thing off me!” He yelled.

  “We’re trying!’ Mikey grunted.

  Sticks wailed in pain, gouging at its eyes and kicking anything within reach. The bear shook him like a rag doll, tearing clothes and flesh sending blood onto the muddy forest floor. Mikey kicked at the bear until his feet were sore, screaming at the top of his lungs.

  It suddenly released Sticks and huffed, standing over him with a look of agitation. His arm fell to the dirt, blood flowing freely from the deep puncture wounds. It was shredded and the white of his radius bone glowed in the dark.

  Anthony was helpless. He tried to stand again, but his twisted leg wouldn’t allow it. He watched in horror while the massive bear grabbed Sticks by the foot and began to drag him off into the brush. Sticks screamed reaching for the knotted roots and vines, digging his hands into the muddy earth.

  “Help me! Help me!” His voice reverberated through the forest.

  Mit rushed to his aid, gripping him tightly by the wrist. He pulled backwards as his shoes sank into the ground. It was a losing game of tug of war as the bear started to drag them both deeper into the dark.

  Suddenly two more bears, a little smaller than the first, exploded from behind the trees. One charged at Mit and slashed him across the stomach. He hollered in pain, flying backwards and tumbling into Mikey. The other bear ran straight for Anthony, who was still slumped back against a tree.

  Steve grabbed a jagged tree branch and dove in front of Anthony, waving it wildly at the bear. It reared up and slashed at the air then dove at Steve, its mouth open wide showing its razor sharp teeth.

  As it bore down on Steve it suddenly stopped as if it hit an invisible barrier. It seemed unable to move, frozen only a foot in front of Steve. Suddenly it rose into the air and smacked into a tree like someone had thrown it. Its motionless body fell to the ground with a bone crushing thud.

  The other bear whimpered and scurried off into the trees. It was quickly consumed by the forest. Steve jumped to his feet scanning the night, but there was no sign of the first bear, and no sign of Sticks. He turned back to Anthony, but he was slouched backwards on the tree unconscious.

  “No…no, no!” He stammered then dropped to his knees and began to shake violently.

  Mikey scrambled to his feet rubbing his head. He glanced over to Mit and found his body face down in the dirt, lying in a pool of his own blood.

  “Mit!” He yelled as he ran to his side and rolled him over.

  Mit’s chest rose slowly up and down. Mikey breathed a sigh of relief and then ran to the spot he’d last seen Sticks. He searched for tracks or some kind of trail, but there was nothing. Sticks was dragged off into the dark without a trace. The only sign of the bears were chunks of fur stuck to the branches and the dead bear laying a few feet from Anthony.

  The night was silent and Mikey was left to deal with the reality of what had just occurred. Sticks was almost certainly dead and Mit was dying. Anthony was unconscious and Steve had completely lost it.

  Mikey grabbed Steve by the shoulders and slapped him in the face. “Come on get it together.” He shouted.

  Steve didn’t budge. He stared off into the distance, his eyes unfocused and cloudy. Steve wasn’t going to be any help, Mikey was alone.

  When Anthony finally came to, the sun had slowly begun to rise and rays of light cascaded through the trees. They were now in a clearing somewhere deeper in the forest encircled by redwoods. Steve was huddled on the ground a few feet away, sobbing hysterically. Mit’s lifeless body was at Anthony’s side, his shirt covered in blood. Mikey knelt beside him pressing a bandage on his chest, dirt and tears were dried across his face.

  Anthony looked up and slowly spoke. “Is he…”

  “No, he’s just sleeping. He lost a lot of blood though, but I think he’ll be fine.”

  Anthony nodded then almost fighting himself he pressed on. “What about Sticks?”

  Mikey’s face said it all. He stared off into the trees with tears in his eyes.

  “He was right you know. It is my fault, all of it. I told you to fly that day. If you’d never done it Sticks would’ve never been here, we would’ve never been here.”

  Anthony pushed himself up and grabbed Mikey’s arm. He sighed and wiped at his face.

  “This is my fault Mikey. I’m the freak; we’re out here because of me.”

  Mikey smirked at him and pulled him to his feet. “Let’s get Steve.”

  Anthony grinned and limped to Steve then took a seat in the dirt. His loud sobs echoed through the air. He slowly turned and looked into Anthony’s eyes then looked away. Anthony put his hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

  “It’ll be okay man,” he said with a sympathetic look on his
face.

  Steve slumped his head and continued to whimper. Mikey sat in a daze, his thoughts drifting to Sticks.

  “We’re gonna have to stay here for a few days. Mit can’t move just yet and your knee is screwed.”

  Anthony nodded and crawled over to his pack. He loosened a rolled up tent from the side and started spreading the pieces out. Mikey joined them, although neither said another word as they worked.

  Once they had the tent set up and their makeshift camp situated, they sat in silence for some time. Steve finally stopped crying and was staring off into the woods. Mit snored loudly from inside the tent, the first signs of life he’d shown all day.

  The sun was already dipping behind the trees as Mikey and Anthony sat near a fire watching a pot of stew boil. It wasn’t so long ago that they would’ve been sitting at the beach skipping rocks. Now they were on their own in the middle of nowhere.

  “You think we’re gonna make it?” Mikey asked as he poked at the burning logs.

  Anthony stared off into the fire in silence. He slowly lifted his head and looked at Mikey.

  “What happened…what happened with Sticks?” Anthony asked with watery eyes.

  “I’m not sure, I mean…Mit got thrown into me and by the time I got up Sticks was gone. One of the bears was dead on the ground and the other one ran off.” Mikey said as he continued to poke into the fire. ”I went looking for Sticks, but there was no sign of him anywhere. Mit was bleeding really bad and you passed out, but I wasn’t sure if those guys were still back there. So me and Steve grabbed you guys and we took off. ”

  Anthony looked away. He couldn’t believe Sticks was gone. He fought back tears as he rolled over pulling his jacket over his shoulders.

  Night came and went swiftly and before long the sun was gleaming through the trees again. Mit was finally awake and despite a six inch gash that was haphazardly stitched by Mikey, he was in pretty good spirits. He staggered around camp helping out where he could. Steve was returning to normal and eating everything in sight.

  Over the next week they stayed relatively in the same area. They moved a couple of times because Mikey felt like they were being watched, but nothing more than a few hundred yards. Mikey knew they needed time for Anthony and Mit to heal, but he made it a point to complain about the trees every time he opened his mouth.

  “These damn trees are driving me nuts.” Mikey said as he dropped a pile of wood for the fire.

  Anthony snickered then immediately felt guilty. It was the first time he laughed or even smiled since Sticks had died. He looked down at the ground and sighed.

  Mikey glanced away; he knew exactly how Anthony felt. No one had really talked about Sticks’ death, but it was on all of their minds. There was an air of gloom and depression around everything they did. The normally upbeat group moped around camp hardly speaking.

  “It doesn’t’ even seem real.” Mikey finally said.

  “I um…yeah I can’t believe it.” Anthony tossed a log into the fire.

  Mikey shook his head then walked towards the tent. Mit looked on in silence as he pulled a pan out of his bag.

  “Let’s get out of here tomorrow. I can’t stand these trees anymore.” Mit added.

  Mikey looked back and smiled.

  “About time.” He mumbled as he stepped into the tent.

  The next morning they quickly packed up camp. Anthony was moving a lot better and Mit’s wound was on the mend.

  Once everything had been packed they all stood around the fire in silence. “Someone should say something…something for Sticks.” Steve whispered.

  Anthony cleared his throat. He felt almost obligated to be the one that spoke. He opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out Mit started to talk.

  “Sticks, we’ll miss you man. I hope you’re some place nice. You were a good friend and didn’t deserve to die.”

  Anthony smiled and patted him on the back. Mikey wiped a tear from his eye and Steve started to sob uncontrollably again. Mit grabbed his canteen and poured water over the smoldering ambers then turned and headed off into the forest.

  Twenty minutes later they were trudging through the woods and Mikey was already regretting it. His feet ached and the heavy pack he lugged around made him walk humped over like a hunch back. The deeper they went into the forest the more Mikey complained and he was now moving slower than even Steve.

  The trees grew thick and twisted together like strands of knotted hair. Anthony was sure no living person had ever been through this part. The dense canopy of foliage blocked most of the sunlight, which kept them cool while they walked. They moved at a slow pace since Mit who was leading the pack couldn’t do much more than hobble.

  Anthony bobbed along leaning on a stick as he crawled over rocks and downed trees. They came to a small stream in the middle of the forest and Mit smiled greedily while unpacking his fishing rod.

  “Looks like something other than Mikey’s crap stew tonight.”

  Mikey laughed and grabbed his fishing knife then plopped down next to Mit to watch his fishing expertise.

  Anthony and Steve crossed the stream and headed to the other side to look for rabbits. Steve insisted they would make a much more suitable meal. Anthony however, had no clue how he planned to catch them. They walked off into the woods disappearing from sight.

  Mikey and Mit sat at the water’s edge waiting for a fish to bite. The water slowly rolled over rocks, sloshing about on its way to the sea. The stream was about twenty feet wide, but no more than four feet deep at the lowest point. Mikey envisioned somewhere upstream it came to an expansive waterfall and tumbled downward.

  “This wouldn’t be such a bad place, huh?” Mit asked as he bobbed the fishing rod up and down.

  “I guess dude.” Mikey dismissed him.

  “Holy crap!” Mit yelled.

  Something latched onto the hook baited with one of Steve’s Twinkies. Mit yanked the rod back and an enormous speckled trout jumped into the air. Mikey grinned with pleasure, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips.

  “Way to go bro!” Mikey esteemed.

  From the bushes behind them, a pair of eyes watched intently. The trees rustled and Mikey whipped his head around, but there was nothing there.

  “What is it?” Mit asked.

  “Nothing.” Mikey turned back to the water.

  As Mit reeled the fish in, a set of hairy arms wrapped around him like a vice. They snatched him high into the air before slamming him to the ground. Mikey turned in time to see a massive fist right before it smashed into his nose. He was knocked off of his feet by the blow and blinded by searing pain.

  “I got me one pa’,” a voice shouted out.

  Mit kicked and screamed loudly. “Let me go!” He yelled, his arms uncontrollably swinging about.

  Mikey moaned and rolled over as blood gushed from his nose. His voice traveled across the stream into the woods where Steve and Anthony had just managed to catch a squirrel.

  Anthony looked up and stared across the water. An enormous man covered in thick, brown hair wearing only a pair of filthy corduroys hoisted Mit into the air. His bare feet were covered in mud and his yellow, claw-like toenails dug deeply into the bank. Another feral looking man wearing a stained tank top with long blonde hair tossed Mikey over his back He was about the size of Anthony but much skinnier. He threw his head back and yodeled into the air, exposing his emaciated neck and prickly remnants of a beard.

  Anthony jetted back across the water screaming, adrenaline removing any trace of pain from his knee. Steve tucked the squirrel into his bag and followed.

  “Let him go,” Anthony demanded as he sprinted through the stream.

  The skinny man laughed and pointed across the water. “Pa look, more of em.”

  The giant man let out a high pitched squeal as he shook Mit around. His crooked teeth jutted out of his mouth in every direction.

  Mikey suddenly remembered the fishing knife he’d grabbed from his bag. He snatched it from his
pocket and buried it deep into the man’s thigh. The skinny man hollered out and dropped Mikey to the ground.

  He yanked the knife from his leg then collapsed to all fours, groaning in pain. As he lifted his head, Anthony appeared from the water and delivered a skull crushing soccer kick to his face. His ragged body slumped into the mud. Blood poured from his ears and nose.

  The larger man shrieked and dropped Mit. He ran to his son and pulled his body from the river bank. He slung him over his shoulder and whipped around facing them.

  “Garrrrr!” The man yelled into the air. He swung his hand at them swatting the air like an enraged monkey.

  Mikey picked his knife back up as Steve and Anthony joined his side. He swiped and jabbed at the man, slashing him across the arm. Blood splashed into the forest spraying the leaves like paint.

  The burly man growled at them again. He seemed to be weighing his options. He grunted at them one last time then turned and ran off into the brush. With his son in tow, he quickly vanished into the dense forest.

  Anthony helped Mit to his feet as they all stood around bewildered. Steve was hyperventilating as Mikey looked from side to side with his knife at the ready.

  “I told you I thought I saw someone.” Mikey blurted out, his eyes trailing after the man that just ran off. “We’re gonna have to start keeping guard at night.”

  Mit brushed dirt off his pants and smiled as he picked the fish up from the ground. He held it high in the air like a hard won trophy.

  “Well, we still got dinner.” He laughed trying to lighten the situation.

  Steve huffed loudly, bent over with his hands resting on his knees. His hair was even more messy than normal and his face was flush.

  “I can’t take much more of this.” He panted as he tried to stand.

  XVI

  HUNGRY EARTH

  The sun cooked their skin and Anthony didn’t think they’d make it another day. They’d traded the damp soil and thick trees for the barren landscape of the Nevada desert. They left the forest two days ago and hadn’t seen a sign of the crazed hillbillies since they ran off into the trees. Every night since, they slept in shifts, one of them keeping watching while the others rested.