Wayward Soldiers

by Joshua P. Simon

  “You’ll make a good soldier one day, Reuma.”

  Ava snorted and put her hands under my chest to help turn me. “I won’t forget anything.” She smiled at me. “And I never was considered a good soldier.”

  I gave her an evil look as they positioned themselves.

  “Take a deep breath, Big Brother. This is going to hurt.”

  And gods, did it.

  I managed to hold back the whimpers. It was an accomplishment I’d be proud of to the grave. The burns were not as bad as they could have been, but the location made them feel worse. Even the slightest of movements felt like a saw being raked across my skin.

  The medicine Reuma gave me for the pain smelled like soured milk and tasted just as bad, but I choked it down. On my side, and half sitting up, I concentrated on each breath until the medicine created a numbing sensation over my body. Only then, once I relaxed, did Reuma apply the salve.

  When that was done, I took care of natural bodily functions while trying to maintain some semblance of privacy. I then forced down some hard biscuits and drank my fill of water.

  The ordeal wore me out. I got myself comfortable and collapsed into a deep sleep.

  CHAPTER 35

  For two days, I repeated this cycle, waking up, eating, drinking, relieving myself, and getting hefty doses of medicine that kept the pain at bay. The burns on my back and neck began to heal faster thanks to the concoction Reuma saved from our supplies.

  My shoulder improved to the point where I no longer needed to keep it pinned.

  When not sleeping, I had plenty of time to think. Not much else I could do while trying to remain still. I did talk quite a bit to Ira, Ava, and Reuma, as well as Boaz and Dinah. The latter two were thankful I saved Dinah’s wife and sympathetic to the wounds I picked up when doing so. Abigail also kept me company, making up songs to sing to me in order to pass the time.

  It made me miss Myra and Zadok even more.

  In a few instances, people I had barely spoken to during our journey came by to strike up a casual conversation when they had a moment of down time. It wasn’t much, but it did break up the monotony of my day.

  Whenever someone came over, I pestered them for an update on my kids and those in the other cave. The effort was futile due to the chaos outside. I could still only hear the storm in my alcove far away from the cave’s entrance. If what I could hear was any indication to what others saw, I understood the lack of correspondence from the other cave.

  That didn’t stop me from asking for updates though.

  * * *

  After another day and a half, there was a small lull in the rain, hail, and wind. Dekar managed to step out of the other cave long enough to exchange a quick message with Ava. The message lacked a lot of detail, which was expected given the need for speed, but it was something.

  The kids were doing well as was everyone else with the exception of two people they lost to injuries. Supplies were fine.

  Ava had just enough time to give him a quick update about our group as well.

  After Ava delivered the news to me and returned to the cave entrance, I thought about Lasha, wondering what she would think about this new world and the choices I had made to navigate it with the kids. Would she approve? Would she be disappointed? Would she be repulsed by the missing ear, or not even acknowledge its absence?

  I knew the answer to those questions, yet they hung in my mind anyway. I was beating myself up just for the sake of something to do. Something Lasha would have gotten on me about if she knew I was doing it.

  I missed her.

  * * *

  By the end of the sixth day, I stood at the mouth of the cave gaping at another world.

  Gone was the orange hue. Gone was the blurry haze. Gone were the flashes of white across a sometimes-purple sky. Gone were fires of dancing red, yellow, and orange.

  It looked as if a painter had run out of everything but white and black. At a loss, the painter mixed those two colors until they had a hundred shades of gray that were used to fill out the canvas, creating an ashen sky, a slate ground, an iron rain, and smoke-filled air. A small river of rain water flowed down and out of the center of the valley as it ran down the rock on either side of the hills leading to the caves. Amidst the shallow running water were remnants of the supplies we had been unable to save as well as large chunks of broken wagons.

  “Bleak, isn’t it?” asked Ava as she came up beside me.

  “That’s an understatement,” I answered.

  “I was just starting to get used to the orange too.”

  “Getting rid of the haze was a nice surprise. Looking through that mess got old.”

  “How’s the back?”

  I shrugged, regretting doing so as the skin crinkled. “The pain is better, but still annoying nonetheless.”

  She snorted.

  I gave her a look. “What?”

  “Ira was just joking earlier that you were probably milking the injury so you could continue to strut around with your shirt off.” She laughed. “The thought of you strutting is one of the more ridiculous things I’ve heard.”

  I laughed with her. “You and Ira were talking and joking? The world truly is coming to an end.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m sure you’ve noticed he’s been more subdued the last few days. Misses Dekar I think.”

  “Worried about Chana and the baby too, I’d wager,” I added.

  “There is that. I wish she’d have it already. If I had my powers back, I’d try something just so we’d all be done with it.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to where Chana slept propped up against the side of the cave wall. She actually looked peaceful like that.

  It seemed a lot of people had decided to nap. Those that didn’t, spoke quietly amongst each other. A few played cards.

  I decided to take advantage of the moment.

  “So, that story you told the other day about the little girl and the older boy.”

  She grunted. “I was wondering when you’d bring that up.”

  “Waiting for the right time. That was you and Jareb, right?”

  “Nothing gets by you. Thanks for not saying anything in front of anyone else.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me before? I never knew that’s how it all started between you two.”

  “Does it matter how it started?” she asked.

  “I suppose not, but it still would have been nice to know. It explains other things.”

  “Like?”

  “Maybe why you’ve never shown much interest in finding a husband.”

  She punched me in my arm.

  “Ah, be careful. I’m still recovering.”

  “Stop whining. I hit your good arm. Now, just so we’re clear, that thing with Jareb may have had a small hand in my decision not to get all domestic, but it is not some festering wound. Just a small one I notice from time to time. You act like I’ve sworn off all men.”

  “Haven’t you?”

  She gave me an incredulous look. “Seriously? Gods, for someone so observant you can really get tunnel vision when it relates to family.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I may have never had a serious relationship, but you don’t think I’ve had my share of men?”

  “What? When would you have had a chance to meet someone? We were in the army for almost a decade.”

  “An army that was full of men, idiot. Though I will admit I still had to work hard to find someone with more class than a mule. But I made do with what I had.”

  “Gods, I can’t believe I’m hearing this.”

  “Oh, stop it. If it was Hamath or Ira talking about sleeping with the camp followers, you wouldn’t have this reaction.”

  “They aren’t my sister.”

  She shook her head at me. “You can be so ridiculous.”

  I let the pause in conversation stretch. “Do you plan on getting married one day?”

  She gestured at the canvas of gray. “You mean so I can squeeze out a couple
of kids to share in this glorious world? Why not?”

  “It was an honest question. You never talk about that stuff.”

  Silence hung in the air. I waited for her to walk away as she usually did when I had brought the topic up before. This time she didn’t.

  “Do I plan on getting married? No. I’m of the belief that it’s not something you can really plan. It either happens or it doesn’t. Would I like to get married? Most of the time, I’d say no. I really don’t think about that incident with Jareb much. But when I do, it stings. The few times I came close to caring about someone in that way, it scared me because I didn’t want to open myself up and feel that kind of hurt again. That’s usually when I end things and move on. Opening myself up to someone like a wife should with her husband, knowing that other person could hurt me in the most personal ways scares me to death. It might stop me from ever getting married.”

  “When you find the right person and it works out, the benefit of being so exposed is far better than any potential hurt.”

  “There’s a risk I’d never get the benefit. That I’d suffer through all that hurt for nothing. I don’t want that. Not when it’s something that can linger like that one small ridiculous moment when I was seven has.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.” She paused. “Besides, I’ve got enough on my shoulders helping my niece and nephew. Making sure their father doesn’t kill himself takes a lot of my free time.”

  “From what I hear, it’s a full time job.”

  “Yeah. The idiot is one of the smartest people I know, except when those he cares about are in danger. Then he has a tendency to just throw himself in harm’s way, hoping it will all work out.”

  I touched the side of my head where my right ear used to be.

  She was right. I dreaded the day when things no longer worked out.

  * * *

  Ava and I didn’t say much else for the better part of an hour. We just stood there watching the torrential rain and hail that battered the valley.

  Despite the danger, the view reminded me of our childhood when we would do the same thing on our front porch during a big autumn rainstorm. Our mother would bring out a blanket for us to sit under. Pa would come out later with some warm tea for us to drink.

  There wasn’t much work that could get done on the farm during that kind of heavy rain falling for hours. So, we’d just sit there. Sometimes we’d play cards, or make small talk. On occasion Ma would sing a few songs.

  But the time I enjoyed most was when all four of us did nothing but sit and enjoy each other’s company. I had wanted to build those same memories with Lasha and the kids, but due to the war, never did.

  My throat got a little tight. I found myself missing my parents more than I had in years. With so many counting on me, most importantly my kids, I longed for a few words of advice from my father or even just a warm hug from my mother.

  I don’t know if anyone ever really gets too old for the encouragement of their parents.

  I made a mental note not to forget that when Myra and Zadok had families of their own. I made a second mental note not to be the hovering grandfather who questioned each of their decisions. One last note was to make sure I survived long enough for the first two to matter.

  I let out a deep sigh. Still the cynic.

  Ava shifted, turning my way. “What’s wrong?”

  I opened my mouth, and a scream echoed from behind me, waking everyone. I spun.

  Chana had her head tilted back, staring at the cave’s ceiling. Both hands rested on her bulging stomach. She breathed in short bursts.

  “Ao be damned,” said Ava.

  “Yeah, it’s time.”

  CHAPTER 36

  All eyes and ears fixed on Chana during labor, the ears especially, as there was no avoiding the commotion the woman created.

  Reuma led the delivery efforts due to previous experience.

  Dinah helped Reuma as needed.

  Hila, the woman Ira asked to nurse the baby, hovered.

  Ira, Ava, and I stood ready to jump in while also trying to stay out of Reuma’s way.

  The priest of Molak stood farther away praying. He had twice tried getting closer to include Chana in a prayer to the father. Chana slapped him the first time and bit him the second. He wisely opted out of a third attempt. She resorted to throwing curses his way.

  “So help me if someone doesn’t get that blasted priest away from me, I’m going to kill him when this is over,” Chana yelled.

  Reuma gave me a pleading look.

  “That’s enough!” I hollered at him.

  “But Molak must—”

  “If you want to keep praying, go somewhere Chana can’t see or hear you.”

  His eyes flicked at Chana, then to me and the others in the group. “Very well.”

  Reuma mouthed a thank-you before refocusing on Chana.

  Ira bounced up and down next to me, nervously wringing his hands.

  I leaned over. “Maybe you should walk away too and take a break. Standing here worrying isn’t doing you any good.”

  “I’m all right.”

  Chana yelled. “Gods, it hurts!”

  Reuma looked between Chana’s legs. “It’s time we start pushing. You ready?”

  Chana bobbed her head up and down.

  “On three. One. Two. Three. Push!”

  Chana took a deep breath, closed her eyes and bore down. Her face turned red, yet still she pushed.

  “Stop and breathe,” said Reuma.

  Chana did, gasping. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” said Reuma. “It usually takes more than one. On three, I need you to try again. One. Two. Three. Push!”

  This continued for quite some time, Reuma counting, and Chana pushing. With each push, Ira grew more nervous.

  “Something’s not right,” he said.

  I didn’t answer, in part because I suspected the same. Reuma’s and Dinah’s faces grew more worried as time went on. The two exchanged quite a few glances as if trying to communicate without speaking so as not to worry Chana.

  “Why isn’t this working?” asked Chana.

  “The baby is stuck,” said Reuma.

  “Well, get it unstuck. I want this thing out of me. Cut it out if you have to.”

  The coldness of the woman’s words struck me like a mace. Ira took a step forward with jaw set. I grabbed his arm.

  “Have some faith in Reuma.”

  He relaxed.

  My squad leader shook her head. “That’s an absolute last resort. One I’m not ready to even think about yet.”

  “It’s my body!” shouted Chana. “And I want the thing out!”

  Reuma ignored her as she and Dinah exchanged whispers and nods.

  Boaz’s wife stroked Chana’s forehead. “Let’s try something different. Do as I say.”

  At Dinah’s instruction and with Reuma’s help, they repositioned Chana, getting her off her back and onto her hands and knees. They did some other stuff I thankfully couldn’t see, due to the blankets covering Chana, affording the woman some remaining modesty.

  The pushing started again.

  After a minute, a weak cry echoed through the cave. The brief smile that sat on everyone’s face at the joyous moment was wiped away by a gasp from Dinah, wide eyes from Reuma, and a shriek from Hila.

  Hila backed away slowly. Her arm slowly extended, the length of it shaking as she pointed. “We’ve been cursed,” she said, voice on the hysterical.

  Ira left my side quickly. I didn’t like the sound of that.

  “What is she going on about?” said Chana tiredly as she rolled to her back. She looked toward Reuma who still wore a look of surprise while wrapping the baby. Her eyes widened, as she scooted backward. “Gods, that thing was inside of me! Get it away!”

  So much for the maternal instincts that I had hoped would kick in after seeing the child. But then again, perhaps I had hoped for too much considering the awful situation Chana had been in that le
d to the pregnancy. Most probably wouldn’t even be as sound of mind as she was.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Ira shook his head as he bent and looked at the baby. He frowned and gently took it from Reuma. The baby continued to cry, but weakly. A knot formed in my stomach.

  “He’s not healthy,” Ira whispered. His face bore a look of sorrow.

  “Healthy?” said Hila. “That thing is a freak.”

  Ira looked up with a cold stare. “He is not a freak.” He stood as the baby stopped whimpering, breathing in a wheezy manner. “He’s probably hungry though.”

  Hila backed away again. “Don’t look at me.”

  Ira froze. “You promised.”

  “This is different.”

  “But the baby will die,” Ira said while stepping toward her.

  Benami, Hila’s husband was at her side. “Let me see the child.”

  Ira hesitated, then removed part of the swaddling.

  This wasn’t just a case of a baby who needed a good wipe down. A small webbed hand came loose of the swaddling, reaching. The child’s skin was scaly and tinged with orange, reminding me of the sky after the second eruption. The horror continued with the boy’s face—eyes covered in a milky white film sat on either side of a partially developed nose. Two abnormally large nostrils flexed with each breath.

  The knot in my stomach moved to my chest. Bad enough that we’ve all had to suffer through the effects of the artifact, but a child? And one so helpless?

  Hila gasped and stepped behind her husband for protection. He looked more frightened than her.

  “By Xank,” he said. “I won’t allow my wife to have that thing sucking from her breast. In fact, I think we’d all be doing it a favor to let it die,” he said. “I mean listen to it. It’s almost there anyway.”

  Ira looked up from the baby with death in his eyes. “What did you say?”

  “I’m not saying we leave it alone, and let it suffer needlessly,” Benami continued. But in the end, he only made things worse. “One of us could take a rock and—”

  Ava was at his side. She grabbed his arm and twisted. “If you value your life, I’d keep the rest of that sentence to yourself.”